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unfriendlyamazon · 11 days

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domino high school host club

this was a dumb whim i had a while back and will probably abandon, but i'm kind of enamored of the idea of duke and seto being friends who get into wacky schemes together. like many things in my backlog, i'm just going to throw this out there and see what the response is

It was the giggle that caught Duke’s attention. They looked up from the video game they’d been perusing and saw two girls from their class at the other side of the shop. Their names escaped them, but they lifted up their chin and smiled. Both girls ducked together, still giggling, and they grinned.

So, Domino. Duke’s dad had kicked them to the city last month to start attending the prestigious Domino Academy. Booted from their last school, it was this or a private boarding school in England. They’d shown up day one to school in their uniform with their long hair pulled back, pierced earlobes, and eyeliner on. It’d sent all the girls in their class into a tizzy. Surely it was just new kid exoticism, but no, their appeal had staying power. They dropped the game back onto the case and waltzed over to them.

“You’re in my class, aren’t you?” Duke said with a cool look.

The two girls giggled to each other again. They both still wore their Domino uniforms, bright teal blazers and skirts. One was taller, with cat shoes on her feet, and the other had her hair in a braid. Both cute and blushing pink.

“Hi,” the tall girl said. “I’m Junko. This is Hoshi. You’re Duke, right?”

“You caught me.” They tossed their hair back. “I didn’t expect to see such cute girls here.”

More giggling. Duke practically preened.

“Junko’s totally insane for this series,” Hoshi said. “We thought you might be too cool for video games.”

“My dad like owns a whole franchise of gaming shops,” Duke said. “All I think about is games. What series is it?”

Junko flushed bright red. “It’s really stupid.”

“It’s her favorite series,” Hoshi said.

Duke smiled at Junko. “Well now I have to know.”

“It’s called Kiss Academy,” she said, her face totally red. “The newest one released last week. It’s one of those games where you date people.”

“I knew it had to be,” Duke said with a laugh. “That’s so cute. I’ve never played it.”

“Do you play those types of games?” Hoshi asked.

“Sometimes.” They gave a shrug. “Like I said, all I think about is games. I think it’s cool to get invested in characters like that. It’s a whole other experience. Do they have it here?”

Junko took her copy of Kiss Academy in Bloom, the newest chapter of the hot series. Duke looked over the box art as she waited in line to make her purchase. The anime boys were certainly cute, emblazoned in pink uniforms as sakura blossoms whirled around them. Girls really went haywire for this stuff. Even Hoshi, who didn’t seem much of a gamer, pointed out her favorite boy to Duke. It was the goth one in a choker. They almost laughed out loud.

“Are you buying a copy too?” Junko asked as she took her bag.

Duke placed it on the counter. “Why not? If you like it, it must be good.”

Junko and Hoshi walked around the mall with Duke a little while longer until it was time to head home. Duke almost forgot about the game until they got back to their apartment. Takeout sushi in hand, they fiddled with their phone a while before dumping out their purchases for the day. Their dad may be pissed, but his credit cards still went through. Sorting out the clothes and the comics, they found the game and popped out the cartridge for it. They booted up the game and downed spicy tuna as the pixelated loading screen came into view. Along with the art of the titular Kiss Academy gently blowing sakura leaves in the background, a soft and gentle soundtrack started playing. Okay, Kiss Academy. Show them some boys.

Duke didn’t really expect much out of the game. They played strategy and RPGs with complex character customization and a load of cute outfits to buy. Not that they’d never fallen in love with a video game character. But hitting A to talk and follow dialogue trees wasn’t really up their usual creek. But it’d been nice, chatting with Junko and Hoshi. And it wasn’t like the boys weren’t cute. They grabbed a sparkling water from the fridge and started the game.

Here was the thing. Duke didn’t expect the game to be good. They just wanted to talk to Junko about something in class tomorrow. They definitely didn’t mean to open the games’ wiki and look up what stats they needed to get a kiss around here in Kiss Academy. They didn’t mean to open a tab about the deep lore of one of the series mainstays, nor learn his tragic backstory before it was time. They didn’t mean to spend the whole night in their living room curled up on the floor as they hit A through the dialogue trees trying to hunt for the secret ending. They definitely didn’t mean to sleep through their alarm the next day with the game ending screen still on the TV as they rushed to get on their uniform.

This wasn’t supposed to be their whole personality.

School was a droning series of lectures that did nothing for Duke’s vibrant mind that morning. They sat hunched over their notebook as they wrote out ideas. Kenji was cute and they’d fallen down Isamu the kendo captain’s path twice, but none of the characters had the edge they were looking for. It needed bad boys with a heart of gold and unattainable hotties that talked down to the player. They sketched out the idea for a board game, or maybe a deck building game, with archetypes gaining points and power. They couldn’t quite see it in their head, and by lunch time they were doodling aimlessly.

“Did you like the game?” Junko asked over their shoulder.

Duke beamed a winning smile up at her. “You know, I think I did.”

“You drew Isamu here,” Hoshi said with a giggle. “Junko was wondering if you even liked girls.”

Duke dropped their pen on their desk and sat back. The dreaded question. Since they were young, it’d always been ‘are you a boy or are you a girl’, and the answer had never been extremely obvious to Duke. Now that they were dressing up more, wearing the makeup, painting their nails, everyone assumed they were gay. Duke didn’t have an easy answer for them, so they relied on their charm.

“I like Junko plenty,” they said and winked at her.

Junko’s face flushed. She pointed to the paper, quick to distract everyone. “Isamu kind of looks like the kendo captain here. You draw their hair the same.”

“He’s not captain anymore,” Hoshi sang. “I heard he got banned for fighting.”

“He didn’t get kicked out of school?” Junko gasped. “It’s because his family donated all that money I bet.”

“Who’s this?” Duke asked, happy to have the gossip be on someone else.

“You’ve probably heard the name before,” Hoshi said. “He’s in the class next door. Seto Kaiba.”

Duke sat straight up. “Sorry, did you say the Kaiba heir is here right now?”

Junko gestured to the wall behind them. “Next door, yeah. He’s kind of a jerk.”

“Riko gave him a love confession last year,” Hoshi said. “Then she dropped out of school entirely. Never to be seen again.”

“He didn’t kill her,” Junko said.

Hoshi whistled a note. “Maybe.”

Duke tapped their pen to their notebook. “Would you say he’s the cold and silent type that occasionally talks down to you?”

“Occasionally?” Junko huffed. “Try all the time.”

“Everyone tries to get to know him,” Hoshi said. “The Kaiba Corporation is literally headquartered in Domino. And everyone knows when he turns eighteen he’ll take over the company. But he quit all his clubs and doesn’t talk to anyone.”

“I’m learning so much,” Duke said. “And he doesn’t hang out with anyone?”

The two girls shook their head. The wheels were turning in Duke’s brain.

“I bet most people would lose their minds for a chance to talk to him,” they said. “I bet he gets lots of love confessions too.”

“Only from the girls who never talk to him,” Hoshi said. “Not like Bakura.”

Their pen scratched against the paper. “Who’s that?”

“Ryou Bakura,” Junko said with a sigh. “He’s, like, the cutest boy in school.”

“Very mysterious,” Hoshi said with a giggle. “He can be a little spooky sometimes.”

“No after school activities either.” Junko shook her head. “All the cute boys are so busy.”

“You haven’t joined anything yet, right?” Hoshi leaned over Duke’s desk. “Junko is in the photography club, and I’m on the school events committee. It’s basically the best job.”

“You know,” Duke said as they slapped the cover of their notebook shut, “you two have really given me a lot to think about. I should check out the club situation.”

“Right now?” Junko asked as they stood up from their desk.

“Right now.” They grabbed their bag and slung it over their shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t be gone too long.”

They tossed her another wink, which sent Hoshi into a fit of giggles. They took that as a chance to escape. Apparently this school was brimming with eligible bachelors. They popped into the hallway, where several students were relaxing by the windows or walking to meet up with friends. Duke paused by the door to the class beside theirs. It was propped open, and the those that ate at their desks remained, while a few groups of students chatted with each other. They scanned the crowd of ho-hum nobodies and stopped when they saw a tall figure in the back corner. A laptop was open in front of him as he typed away, his head down in focus. Hoshi was right, he bore somewhat of a resemblance to the kendo captain of their dreams, if he had more muscle to him. He looked lean and skinny in his uniform, and the mess of dark hair brushed over his eyes. But they caught a glimpse of that focused expression, the wide blue eyes, the narrow pupil, fingers flying away.

Okay. They could work with that.

They turned away and ran straight over someone. Books and papers dropped to the ground, and Duke nearly bowled over the person. They managed to collect themself and readied an apology when they stopped. In front of them was a lovingly crafted expression of hair. Curly black hair linked together in violet ends with blonde streaked bangs that flopped over large eyes. The school uniform was undone with a black shirt underneath and a heavy black choker, and winged eyeliner just to steal their whole look. The offending student scrambled for his books, and when he looked up to stutter out an apology, a grin stretched across his face.

“Oh my gosh,” Yugi said. “Duke!”

“No,” Duke said and turned on their heel to march away. To their horror, he followed.

“I didn’t know you were going to school here!” Yugi said, keeping a step behind them. Curse his little legs. “I haven’t seen you in forever. How’re things going? How long have you been in school? Do you wanna eat lunch together?”

“No,” Duke repeated and squeezed their eyes shut. “No, no, leave me alone.”

“It’s really cool that you’re going here! Have you made an friends yet? Are you in any clubs?”

No, no, no. The last time they’d seen Yugi Muto he’d been receiving a prize that should’ve gone to them, and then throwing it in their face. Years and years spent chasing a golden ticket that went to someone who didn’t even want it. Of course he was at this school. Why wouldn’t he be? Everything had been going so well so far, it was bound to crash and burn.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, the door to the stairwell swung open, hitting Duke directly in the face. They were so disoriented they didn’t even realize they’d fallen to the floor until the room stopped spinning. Sharp pain punched through their nose. They clutched their hand to it, feeling a few drops of blood escape.

“You stupid idiot!” they shouted. “Watch where you’re going!”

“What did you say to me?”

They looked up and sucked in a breath. The guy standing over them was large, heavy underneath the unbuttoned uniform, with an uneven shag of bleach blond hair that was already dark at the roots. His hands were back in his pockets, foot keeping the door propped open, with a bandaid across his right cheek. A cloud of cigarette smoke whirled around him. This was the kind of guy who could and would beat the absolute shit out of Duke, unless they kept their mouth shut.

“I said watch where you’re going,” they snapped. Keeping their mouth shut had never been their strong suit. “You almost broke my nose.”

“I can break more than that,” he said with a grin.

“Hey, Jounouchi!” Yugi chirped.

The big guy’s eyes moved to Yugi. He gave him a once over before shaking his head.

“Tell your friend to look out,” he growled and marched away.

Duke slapped Yugi’s hand away as he tried to help them up. The big guy trekked into the same classroom Duke had just been peeking into. Struggling to their feet, they wiped the blood from their nose and picked up their messenger bag.

“Can you do me a favor, Yugi?” Duke asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Anything.”

“Leave me alone,” they snapped and let the door swing shut behind them.

That night, with the game music of Kiss Academy still playing on the TV, Duke did some research. A few business blogs gave the cut and dry story of the Kaiba ascension, but a little digging online found even more. Duke took notes, made a coffee, sat down at their table, and they started a plan.

—

It turned out the best thing that happened to Duke’s popularity was their run in with Jounouchi. All the girls gathered around Duke the next day to view the bruise on their face.

“He’s totally insane,” Hoshi said. “He threatened one of our event coordinators.”

“I heard it was a teacher,” Junko said. “And he slashed the tires on his car.”

“I can’t believe you stood up to him,” Hoshi said. “You’re, like, the bravest person we know.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Duke said. “He just threatened to break all my bones.”

The girls all gasped and fawned over Duke. The class was in their athletic uniform, but Duke still wore the blazer and pants. No way were they undressing in that locker room. A round of doctors’ notes took care of everything.

The girls raced off to join the other two classes, and Duke blew a kiss after them. Making their way to the bleachers, they settled into a seat with their notebook in hand. It was easy to distract themself from the whistles and stampeding feet on the track below them. It might’ve been an otherwise boring hour, if they hadn’t glanced up in time to see Seto Kaiba also taking command of the bleachers. He had his laptop in front of him, still plugging away.

Duke grinned. This was the perfect opportunity. Folding their things into their bag, they strolled up the metal steps to slink into the row behind Kaiba and propped their feet up beside him. They saw his eyes glance their way. His fingers didn’t stop moving.

“Ask me what you’re going to ask,” he said. “I don’t have all day.”

Duke eyed the laptop over his shoulder. Emails and messages piled on top of each other.

“Are you working right now?” they asked.

His hands kept moving. “I like to know what’s going on in my company.”

“I heard you won’t get it until you’re eighteen,” they said.

He stopped typing. Looking back at them, he said, “Tell me what you want.”

“I bet you get proposals from every halfwit.” Duke curled a hair around their finger. “Is it true you kicked a girl out of school?”

His brow knit together. “What? No. Is this about the girl with the love letter? Her family moved.”

“Is it true you got kicked out of kendo club?”

He grit his teeth. “They thought my training methods were too strict. Only one person was hospitalized.”

“And not a single girl wants anything to do with you.”

“What would I care about that for?”

Duke let the curl spring and grinned. “You’re missing a grand opportunity here.”

“Here it is.” Kaiba rolled his eyes. “Go on with your pitch.”

“I’m not pitching you to become business partners,” they said. “I want to become friends.”

Kaiba closed his laptop screen and stood. Duke jumped up as well.

“Okay, okay,” they said. “That wasn’t entirely true. I think a man like you has access to power and resources I don’t, and I have a really stupid idea forming. But I know what you don’t have.”

He turned to look at them. On the bleachers, with him two steps down, they were almost the same height.

“What’s your name?” he said.

“I’m Duke Devlin,” they said.

He scoffed. “Not a prestigious family name. What exactly is it that you do?”

“My father owns a successful games franchise,” they said, only a little defensively. “I’ve released two licensed games under the Mr. Clown name.”

“Oh, good.” He took a step up. “A clown. Your family runs a mildly successful toy shop for children, and you think you can tell me what it is I don’t have? I am thrilled to hear what you say next.”

Duke looked up at him, still grinning from ear to ear. “You’re so exactly who I was looking for. Do you know what I have that you don’t? Social capital.”

“Ah,” Kaiba said. “Thus the proposition to become friends. You want to make me popular. Hope I’ll exchange money and influence on the off chance that girls send me love letters in my locker. I repeat: why should I care?”

“Alright,” they said, pulling out their notebook. “You’re painfully aware the Kaiba Corporation has their CEO position left unfilled, and instead is currently being controlled by a board of directors. Oh, they even have a cute nickname. The Big Five. Isn’t that sweet?”

Kaiba’s eyes widened as his pupils became pinpoints of rage. “You are treading on dangerous territory.”

“I know, I know, let me finish.” They held up the notebook to him. “See, I did my research. Everyone thinks you’re going to wake up one morning the new CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, but what they haven’t realized is that you weren’t even Gozaburo Kaiba’s biological son. You’re legal adopted and entered into the registry, but your future is in the hands of five wizened old men who, by the by, seem to hate you like everyone else. I assume that’s why you’re here instead of just, you know, being a billionaire.”

“Does this have a point?” he said through gritted teeth.

They flipped the book back over. “That’s just what I found searching online. Do you wanna know what I learned from my new best friends over there?”

Kaiba turned as Duke waved down to the field. Junko and Hoshi were whispering to each other and quickly waved back.

“That’s Junko Nakamura,” they said. “She’s really the inspiration behind this whole endeavor. She’s my muse. Her family owns a motorcycle company that buys 1.3 million dollars in plastic from your company every year. And that right there is Hoshi Oshita. You would not believe who her grandfather is.”

Kaiba turned slowly back around to them. “Konosuke Oshita.”

They couldn’t stop from doing a little dance. “He’s on your board of directors! Isn’t that just so good? I don’t even know if she knows, but I do know one thing. Those two girls think you’re a psycho. Most people do. So let’s say, in a few years, when it’s time to take your power back from the Big Five, you’re convincing the board to vote you in as CEO. You’re a strong candidate. Driven, smart, but those aren’t the things people look for. People will say he’s unhinged. They’ll say you can’t be trusted. And all those hopes and dreams and presumably billions of dollars will be flushed away with one fell swoop. But what if Junko talked to her father about the potential issues with such a massive changeover. Or better yet, you had Oshita’s granddaughter on your arm. Could he really say no to that?”

“You really think I’m stupid,” Kaiba said. “You think I haven’t considered these outcomes already?”

They tapped their nose. “I think you should work smarter, not harder.”

“Manipulation is a coward’s tactic,” he snapped. “All I’ve learned from this is you have all the benefits of a Google search.”

He started down the steps, and Duke hopped after him. They nearly slipped and caught themself on his uniform, swinging around to stand in his way.

“I’m not saying you have to manipulate anyone,” they said. “I’m saying I have a way of making them come to you. You can engage in social situations, no pretense that it’s anything more, and I can guarantee you won’t have to speak to anyone for more than, say, thirty minutes.”

He lifted their hand off his arm. “That’s oddly specific. What do you call this dream scenario?”

“A host club,” they said.

Kaiba blinked once, twice, and then his face cracked. A huge smile spread across his lips, and he opened his mouth to guffaw. Loudly. Insolently. He clutched his laptop to his chest as he bent over with laughter. Duke sighed and folded their arms.

“I told you it was stupid,” they said.

“It’s insane!” he shouted between his laughter. “A host club? You think the school is going to let you pour alcohol so girls can feel you up?”

“Think of it more like tea ceremonies,” Duke said. “Maybe a booth at school festivals. Hoshi is on the events committee, I bet she’d be happy to help. And judging by the sizable donations you’ve made to the school, I think they’d give us a pass.”

He wiped a tear from his eye. “So I’m crucial in this plan of yours. To–I can’t even say it–to start a host club on campus.”

“Just think about it,” they said. “Access to influential people, a money making opportunity, a chance to show people how you really are, and an opportunity to make people happy.”

“Why would I care about that?” he asked.

“You’ve got everyone else around here fooled,” Duke said. “But not me. I read about your restructuring plans for Kaiba Corp, and the prototype game you released. And there were rumors of an amusement park?”

“Money making ventures.”

Duke smirked. “Entertainment focused on children. You act cold as ice, but I have a feeling that’s all it is. An act.”

Kaiba lifted up to his full height, towering over Duke. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“And now you have a chance to show everyone,” they said. “Just give it some thought.”

“It’s an insane idea,” he said.

“Good.” Duke gave him a wink. “I wouldn’t want to bore you.”

To their absolute delight, the tips of his ears went pink. Without another word, he pushed past them. Duke kept their chin up as he left, and as soon as he was out of sight, they did another little jig. This was too perfect. Junko and Hoshi were still watching, and they danced down the steps to greet them.

#domino high school host club #my fanfic #silly ideas #this was actually junko's first appearance and then i put her in dueling dragons #i like my collection of ygo ocs

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boyette47tarp · 2 years

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emf005 · 3 years

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Knock On Wood

Oliver Wood x Reader

Warnings: The Puns are real, fighting, fluff... (Let me know if I missed anything!)

Please Like and follow and let me know what you think!

What a lovely day to bother the Gryffindor quidditch captain, Oliver Wood. You swung your legs off Fred’s lap and ruffled George’s hair as you went to your dorm.

“Where are you off to?” George asked, tossing the pranking ball at you. You caught it and tossed it right back before it could release the gas from inside that smelt like a dead skunk bathed in vomit, a smell of your own invention you were proud to say.

“I overheard that Ollie was going down to the pitch for some extra practice. Think I need some work on my,” you flipped your hair dramatically. “Chasing.” The two scoffed at your horrible pun, considering you were the best Chaser in all of Hogwarts. Both figuratively and metaphorically. You ran up stairs and grabbed your gloves, threw on your riding boots and grabbed your broom. Everything you owned was pretty worn out, you were muggle born and your family wasn’t exactly the richest. Actually you were poorer than the Weasleys', and there were only four of you!

They looked back up at you as you jumped the last four stairs and walked out of the room to go bug the keeper. You loved bugging Wood. His name was meant for puns. It's just perfect! I mean, Oliver, obviously a good nickname for him was Ollie, which he pretended to hate. And then Wood. There were so many there. And then he was a Keeper. Like, he just made it too easy for you!

“Ollie!” You called happily from the bottom of the pitch. He glanced down and you could hear his eye roll. You flew up and met the Keeper in the air. “What a surprise meeting you up here, hun!” He rolled his eyes and turned his broom around so you wouldn't see the blush on his cheeks from the nickname you had given him. Well, one of the many nicknames you had given him.

“What do you want, Y/L/N. I’m practicing here.” You frowned and leaned forward on your broom.

“Maybe I wanted to practice with you, Ollie. I’m hurt you want me to leave so soon. I got all dressed up just to see you.” He glanced at your attire.

“Honored. You should really get new riding gloves and boots,” he mentioned.

“Yeah, they’re on my list right next to a cyclops.” He rolled his eyes at your sarcasm. “Come on Wood, I bet I can get a few past you,” you grinned, sitting back up on your broom.

“Ha! You wish, Y/L/N!”

“Scared?”

“Never.”

“Then Wood you go get the ball and we can have a go at it!” He groaned at you pun.

“Stop it.

“Stop what? I just told you to go get the ball,” he flew down and started to walk away from you.

“You know what!” You smirked. He showed back up a few minutes later as you were speeding around the pitch. He watched you go in awe at how fast you were flying. How perfect your form was. And how good you looked doing it.

Stop it. He told himself as he called up to you. He tossed up the Quaffle and you zoomed over catching it in one fluid motion, going so fast you nearly knocked him off his feet.

“Lets go, Ollie!” You shouted down to him, tossing it up in the air and catching it. “I gotta beat you by four!” He mounted his broom and flew up to you.

“Why? What's at four.”

“Fred, George, and I have some… business to attend to.”

“Which hallway do I have to avoid this time?” He sighed, making his way to the posts.

“There's no fun in that, Olive oil! You might stop people like you did last time,” you pouted.

“Did you just call me Olive oil?”

“Your name is Oliver, did you not expect me to make an olive pun?”

“I was hoping.”

“I guess you could say you were-”

“Don’t do it.”

“Knocking on Wood.” You smiled.

“I hate you.”

“Nah. You love me,” you blew him a kiss making his cheeks heat.

The game was close the whole time, but you ended up winning by one point. Though, he did not accept his defeat.

“That wasn’t fair!”

“Just because you were too busy laughing at my joke, Ollie, doesn’t mean it wasn’t fair. You always tell me to be more focused. Maybe you should follow your own advice instead of gazing longingly at me,” you joked as the two of you headed to the locker room.

“I don’t gaze longingly,” he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah ya do, mate,” George said, coming over and putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Only at her though,” Fred clarified, doing the same thing on the other side of you. You laughed at the two trouble makers.

“I’m just flawless, he can’t help it. Right, Ollie?” You joked, but he just stalked off to the showers frustrated. You frowned and creased your eyebrows. You didn't take it too far, did you? “Did I say something offensive?”

“No.” they said together, smirks on their faces.

“Hey, Ollie!” You yelled to Oliver, running towards him in your Gryffindor uniform. It was the Slytherin v.s. Gryffindor match today, and you were ready to kick some serpent ass. Oliver just nodded to you and kept walking. You frowned and stopped watching him go. What was that? Fred and George came up behind you.

“What was that about?” George asked. You shook your head and looked after the boy you longed to talk to. It was a well known fact amongst the three of you that you liked him. They had tried to get you to tell him on multiple occasions, but every time you went to say something, a pun just came out because of your nerves.

Harry came over to the three of you and looked past you to see Wood walking away with his shoulders a bit slumped.

“He’s been like that all day.” Harry said, shaking his head. “Don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe throw him a pun or two today, Y/N. Looks like he needs one.” Harry left you three to stare after Wood as he made his way to where the majority of the team was, ready to walk out and begin the game against the Serpents’ house.

Brutal. That was the only way to describe how they played. Well, that was also how your team played. The rivalry between the houses fueling the urge to win. Skill increased, adrenaline flooded through everyone on the pitch. Rooms zoomed through the air, the wind combined with the cheers and boos from the crowd was deafening.

It was brilliant.

Y/N zoomed through the air perfectly, avoiding everyone as she threw the Quaffel into the top goal post. Gryffindor cheered and she smiled, flying her broom around in victory as the Slytherin’s booed her. Y/N watched the Quaffle get tossed around by a few Slytherin’s and zoomed over to them. As it was tossed in the air she intersected it and flew around towards the Slytherin side again, scoring yet another goal. The Slytherins sneered at you and, unbeknownst to you, had a plan up their sleeves.

The Quaffle was tossed to you again and then you were being chased, but this wasn't your normal chase. You had two Slytherin players in front and back and two on your sides.

You swore to yourself as they got closer. Suddenly they all just dispersed. You were far up in the clouds at this point and it was hard to see. You began to speed back down when something hit you in the head, knocking you off your broom.

You fell. You heard screaming, but you didn’t know if it was you or someone else. You felt yourself slow down but you were still going fast, the Quaffle still tightly in your grasp as you hit the ground. Everything went black.

Wood watched the Slytherin team surround you and take you up into the clouds. What were they planning? The team dispersed and flew back into view, but you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Then he saw your figure falling. His heart stopped. Dumbledore cast a spell to slow you down but you were still going too fast.

“Y/N!” him and the twins cried in unison, flying down to meet you on the ground. Your body bounced and you were out cold. The rest of the quidditch game was canceled and everyone made their way out onto the field to see what happened, Madam Hooch in front of them all. The three boys stared down at you unmoving body thinking that the fall killed you. The Slytherin’s walked off the field, not caring anymore. They had won. But that wasn’t the reason Oliver Wood’s blood was boiling. They had hurt you and that was not ok. Ever.

Madam Hooch took you to the hospital wing and Fred and George were about to follow when they noticed Oliver heading towards the Slytherin shower area with his fists clenched. They followed.

“Oi!” The boys clad in green turned around at his voice. “Was that really necessary? She could’ve died!” Marcus Flint scoffed.

“Not our problem.” Wood clenched his jaw.

“It is your problem.”

“Why, pissed off we hurt your mudblood girlfriend? Can’t even buy herself proper riding-” Flint didn't get to finish his statement thanks to Wood’s fist in his face. He stumbled back and Fred and George grabbed Wood’s arms pulling him away form the fight.

“Say that again. I fucking dare you!”

“Wood, shut up mate!” Fred hissed, struggling to pull him away.

“Lets go right now! I’ll fucking take you all down. Right here right now! Lets go!”

“Wood!” George hissed. “No. If you won’t come with us for your own sake, at least do it for her sake.” Wood growled, making the twins lean back. He just growled. They had never seen him get so defensive over something. So protective.

“Yeah! Go running to your mudblood girlfriend, Ollie.” The three froze. The twins dropped Wood’s arms and in three seconds he was on top of the Slytherin’s beating the lot of them to a pulp. They looked at each other and slowly backed away.

Wood could take care of himself. That much had always been clear. But this… This was just horrifying.

You started to stir a bit, everything in your body aching, you head pounding. You felt sticky, but not your normal sweaty sticky. You groaned and opened your eyes. The lights of the infirmary blinded you a bit.

“Y/N?” The twins? Your eyes adjusted and you saw two redheads staring at you from above. It all came back to you and your blood boiled. “How do you feel?”

“Can I please have a knife?”

“First off, no.”

“Second off, why?”

“I am going to stab each and everyone of those Slytherin pricks so they bleed and hurt and beg me for mercy.” You groaned.

“She’s up?” Your head snapped up at Wood’s voice, but you couldn't see him.

“Yeah.”

“But she’s in a killing mood again.” The twins patted your leg, silently telling you they’d be back later. Oliver came and sat by you, you turned your head so you could see him.

“You look good.” you smirked sarcastically.

“Yeah well, you don't look picture perfect either.” You cringed mockingly.

“That hurt Ollie. Almost as much as these broken bones.”

“You're lucky you're not dead.”

“I mean, there's still time for that. So…” you stabbed his shoulder three time with your fist. “Knock on wood.” He let out a laugh and you smiled.

“You laughed.” He looked at you.

“Yeah. Why do you sound so surprised?”

“Because you never laugh. Why do you think I always try? Who knew falling off my broom would get you to laugh.” “Yeah, well. Don’t go doing that again. You gave me quite the scare.” You laughed, cringing at the way you felt your ribs shift. He looked panicked. “What happened? Do I need to get Madam Pomfrey?”

“Relax, Ollie. It was just my ribs shifting. Nothing to over react about. So, what did happen to that pretty face of your? You look like a woodpecker attacked you.”

“You really can’t turn the puns off can you?”

“I just got to get Olive them out.”

“Wow. That's pathetic.”

“You never answered my question. Are you alright?”

“I just had a row with the Slytherin team. They called you a few… unsavory words.”

“Pour mudblood?” You asked without breaking. His eyes widened, surprised to hear you say the slur. You shrugged. “Yeah. They say that a lot.”

“And you’re just fine with that?”

“Well, I mean. No. But, what am I going to do about it? Take on all of Slytherin house?”

“I did.”

“Which was incredibly stupid. Why would you even do that?”

“Because they insulted you!”

“Ollie, why does that matter? I’m no one important!”

“Yes you are!”

“Really? To who?”

“The twins! The team! To me!” You fell silent and he heard what he said. He was about to cover it up.

“I’m important to you?” He swallowed.

“Yeah. Always have been.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it. “Always will be. Y/N." He started to gain more confidence. "I have been in love with you since our first year when you made a Woody woodpecker joke at my expense. Whoever that is.” You laughed, remembering the cartoon.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because I was scared.”

“I scare the Oliver Wood? That's an accomplishment.”

“I’m trying to confess my feelings here!”

“If you just kiss me, I think I’ll get the hint!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” He grabbed your face and, as gently as his adrenalin allowed him, brought it to his, putting his lips on yours, finally. You two would have continued to make out if not for a clearing of someone’s throat. Oliver disconnected your lips and looked back to see Madam Pomfrey.

“Miss. Y/L/N needs her rest, Mr. Wood. I am well aware of you two strained and prolonged crushes and am glad to see you two have finally stopped acting like buffoons and gotten to it already. But she has just fallen from an extraordinary height so it is appreciated if you would keep it to a minimum until she is well enough to at least walk.” She turned on her heels and walked out. You started to laugh and Oliver placed a kiss on your cheek.

“When you finally get out of here, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to,” he whispered into your ear. He pulled back with a smirk on his face and you gaped at him.

“Ollie!” You laughed. “Didn’t know you had that side to you.”

“Lots of things you don’t know, love.” he kissed your head. “Get some rest.” You smiled, your eyes already closing.

“M’kay, Ollie.” You were on the verge of sleep when you muttered out a question. “Hey, Ollie?”

“Yes, love?”

“You’ll still kiss me when I wake up, right?” He chuckled.

“I don't think I can stop now.” You smiled, sleepily.

“Good. I don't want you to.” You fell asleep and he watched you for a moment.

“Neither do I.”

Let me know what you guys think! I love feed back!

#oliver wood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood fic #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood angst #fluff #hp fluff #hp angst #fluff and angst #hp x y/n #hp x you #hp x reader

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

CRASH

Pairing: FFXV! NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Words: 2.050

Warnings: none;

Summary: One morning on your way to work, you crash into a cute guy not expecting seeing him again in the evening.

You were running late. Again. There was no way your boss would buy another lame excuse if you wouldn't hurry. Maybe, if one of the six would be with you, you still could make it on time. If you were fast. Well, faster than fast. Maybe fast like a chocobo…

You were so deep in your thoughts with your eyes glued at your phone that you barely noticed anything around you. You knew the way. Blindly. Flying down the different streets in the heart of the city for two years. You knew every single light signal, every street sign and every building by heart.

What you didn't know was that big rocks could suddenly emerge from the ground because as you ran into something it felt as if you were slamming straight into a massive wall made of stone. You bumped into it, bouncing back from the rock before you fell.

But there was no impact on the ground…

"Hey, it's okay. I got you. You can open your eyes.", a soft male voice spoke close to your ear.

Only then, you felt two strong arms embracing your waist. As you raised your gaze, you got greeted by ocean blue eyes filled with concern, "The… the rock can speak.", you breathed startled, '...And is handsome as hell.', you thought further.

"Excuse me, what did you say?", the man asked confusedly and checked on you. He had noticed that the impact had been hard, you were straight crashing into him with some kind of speed, but it shouldn't cause any real trouble for your health.

You shook your head quickly to get your mind under control again, "I- I'm sorry.", you breathed, showing the man, who steadied your stand, a huge smile, "Thanks for catching me so quickly."

"It was my pleasure- hey, where are you going?", the man asked surprised.

You were already back on your way, "I'm sorry. I have to go. But it was nice crashing into you.", you called out before you hurried down the street.

Nyx stepped forward, following you but stopped again as his feet kicked at something. A small smartphone slid over the stones of the pavement. Nyx caught it before it could fall on the street and would get hit by a car.

Without a second thought, Nyx ran after you, trying to catch up but as he turned the corner of a coffee shop, you were already out of sight.

***

"Hey, what is that? Fancy new phone?", Libertus asked as he sat next to his friend.

Once again, Nyx nudged the display to turn it on. A picture of you with a cat showed up. Your eyes were sparkling and your smile breathtakingly beautiful. Only the little box with the PIN request threw a shadow of the image, "Actually, I… I found it this morning. It's theirs.", he said and pointed at the picture that glowed up again.

Libertus turned the phone over, "Looks cute. Seems to have money if they can afford such an expensive thing."

"Yeah…", Nyx breathed and frowned. It was indeed the newest model and didn't even have one scratch. And even if he had been distracted by your eyes and smile, he had noticed your expensive looking clothes, your styled hair and even the fancy shoes.

"But… Why do you have their phone?", Libertus asked.

Nyx got brought back from the daydreaming about you, "They crashed into me this morning. I guess they were on their way to work because they left pretty fast. I found the phone on the ground and ran after them but they were already out of sight.", he explained.

"Have you tried to find a number?", Libertus asked.

Nyx chuckled dryly, turning on the display once again, pointing at it, "What do you think this is, huh?"

"A cat.", Libertus answered, not getting the reason behind the question.

Nyx leant back in his chair while running a hand over his face, "I meant the PIN. I need a PIN to unlock the phone or otherwise, I don't have access."

"Oh... Well, but maybe Pelna can help-"

"Glaives! Into the briefing room!", Captain Drautos called out and within seconds your phone disappeared back into the pocket of Nyx' uniform jacket.

Unfortunately, it stayed there for the rest of the day…

***

Nyx was bushed. Because everything was pretty calm at the moment with no new attacks on Insomnia by Niflheim, Nyx and the other Glaives should train to stay focused. At the end of the day, Nyx scuffed into the locker room completely exhausted. He sat down on a bench and raked his fingers through his hair to relax a little bit.

"Hey, Nyx! Libertus! Wanna stop at Yamachang's?", Luche asked.

Nyx nodded without looking up. To get something to eat and to drink would be nice after a full day of training.

"Haven't you forgotten something?", Libertus asked and nudged Nyx' shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"The fancy phone you found? Or do you wanna keep it after all?", Libertus asked with a grin, knowingly exactly that Nyx wouldn't do something like this.

Nyx' head shot up as he remembered, "Fuck… I totally forgot the phone!", he whispered and jumped up.

"Where are you going?", Luche called out, looking confused after his friend.

"I have to find Pelna!"

***

Thirty minutes later, Nyx had the address of your place. Once again, Pelna had worked his magic when it came to technology and information. Very quickly, Pelna found out your name and that you lived in the heart of the city not far away from the point where you had crashed into Nyx.

So, Nyx was on his way to get to your place. He was sure you would be grateful to get your phone back. He cursed himself that he had forgotten about it the whole day and hoped you wouldn't be too mad.

Accompanied by many pedestrians which were going home or into bars, Nyx made his way through the streets and was taken aback as he found himself in front of one of these high, luxurious looking apartment buildings.

Maybe Libertus was right and you had indeed a lot of money. Nyx swallowed nervously as he stepped through the entrance. The lobby was decorated with a bunch of plants and framed paintings. Even a leather couch stood at one wall. His boots made soft noises on the marble floor.

A couple was staring at him suspiciously. People like Nyx weren't liked to be seen in such places. For everyone, it was okay that he and the others risked their lives to fight for safety but at the end of the day, the refugees should stay where they belonged: in the underground.

Nyx hurried over to a board with names and searched for yours. He found it quickly. You lived on the eight floor and moments later, Nyx stood in one of the elevators with mirrored walls and a golden handrail.

Nerve-wracking slowly, the elevator brought Nyx to the floor he wanted. There was something strange when he walked through buildings and streets like these. It wasn't just that he was an outsider for all of them. It was rather just not his world. Even back in Galahd, such luxury wasn't common and so, he felt misplaced.

Nyx walked down the hallway while taking out your phone. He looked at the shining material. This was your world. You lived like this and maybe you didn't even know something other than having money.

As he reached your door with the golden apartment number, Nyx just needed to knock. He could knock and you would open the door. Maybe accusing him of stealing your phone. Maybe yelling at him that he needed the whole day to bring you the phone back. Or, you would call him stalker because he had tracked you down.

One last time, Nyx turned on the display and looked at the cute picture of you with the cat in your arms. Both of you looked so happy. You looked so nice and sweet. And even this morning, you had been nice to Nyx. At least, you hadn't been unfriendly.

As the display went off again, Nyx saw his mirrored expression on the surface. He saw his tattoos and braids and knew that this was not his world. So, he did the only thing that came to his mind: placing the phone in front of your door and to leave.

"Minka, what is- you!", you said surprised as you opened the door, seeing the cute guy from the morning in front of you. The whole day, he had occupied your thoughts and now, he was there.

Nyx looked up and greeted you with a shy smile. You stood in your doorframe, holding the door in your hand before you opened it even a bit more, "Hey, uhm… I- I found your phone this morning. You know...after our crash.", he stammered and presented the smartphone in his hands to you.

You stared at him and then at his hand for several moments before you jumped against the unknown man, snaking your arms around his neck to squeeze him tightly, "Oh, god bless! I had no idea where I'd lost it! You're heaven-sent!", you said over excitedly. Suddenly, you remembered what you were doing and so, slightly sheepishly, you stepped back again, "I- I'm sorry. I know, boundaries. It was just... I'm so lost without my phone. The day was a living hell.", you said softly.

"I'm sorry that it took me so long to bring it back. The day was a bit … busy.", Nyx said, scratching the back of his neck. He still felt bad for forgetting the phone at all.

You waved his apology aside. You knew what it meant to have a rough day. Only then, you noticed what the man in front of you was wearing, "You… you're a Kingsglaive.", you whispered in awe.

Nyx saw your astonished and excited expression and took the opportunity, "Yes, I am. Nyx Ulric at your service.", he said with a smile as you were still gaping at him.

As you noticed that you were still staring, you swallowed, "I’m sorry… It’s just that.. I'm such a big fan of you all. I mean, what you do for this city … we all owe you so much.", you said honestly.

Nyx was taken aback, "A fan? Never met one before to be honest."

"I know. You guys don't get appreciated enough. At least, not as much as you all deserve it. But- wait! I have an idea. Come in. Have dinner with me. Please.", you asked as you saw Nyx' refusing expression.

"Thank you. But it's not necessary.", he said politely even if he wanted to say something else. He would love to spend more time with you and your light attitude that made his heart jump a little.

"Please. You rescued me and my phone. You even brought it back. Plus the things you do as a Glaive. Inviting you in is the least I can do to thank you.", you tried to convince Nyx with your winning smile.

"I… I don't know. It wouldn’t be right…", Nyx said and just meant it half-heartedly.

"Please.", you begged, "If you leave, I just have Minka for company."

Nyx chuckled and even if he already sensed the answer, he asked anyway, "Who's Minka?"

"My cat.", you answered, looking down at the stripy, little troublemaker sitting next to your feet.

Nyx followed your glance and chuckled, "But she looks sweet.", he said amused as the cat tilted its head.

"Oh, she's sweet. Most the time. As long as you have food. No food, no sweetness. Trust me, she will turn into a vicious monster if she wants to.", you whispered conspiratorially.

Nyx was hooked. He liked your eyes, your smile and you were funny. The whole package was simply perfect. In fact, he didn't want to leave so quickly, "Did you say vicious monster? If that's so, I guess, I should accept your invitation. I mean, someone has to protect you."

"And who would be better for this job as an honorable Glaive.", you said with a huge grin, stepping aside to let Nyx into your apartment, into your life and into your world.

#nyx ulric x female reader #nyx #nyx ulric x gender neutral reader #nyx ulric x male reader #final fantasy nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #ff15 nyx ulric #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #final fantasy xv #final fantasy kingsglaive #male reader #female reader #gender neutral fanfic #gender neutral reader

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khaleeseas · 4 years

Text

accidental sugardaddy!zuko zukka au:

sokka is a man of substance - we know this - but it’s canon that he loves things

remember how excited he gets at the prospect of shopping? and he buys that dumb expensive bag and basically has a “treat yoself” moment in book 2

i’m sure it stems from growing up in a poor village where he literally had to hunt & gather his own food

and now he’s out in the world and has money and gets to go to all these big markets and it’s a huge deal for him

one of zukos love languages is ABSOLUTELY gift giving - i.e. those scenes w Mai on ember island - and you can’t convince me otherwise

so at some point, post-war + a few years into being firelord, while zuko is trying his hardest to woo sokka and sokka is being oblivious about it (boy didnt realize suki was coming onto him that one time when they were trying to get into ba sing se. the boy is Not Very Good at picking up when people are Into Him) zuko is out in the shopping district of caldera city and unthinkingly buys sokka something stupid expensive and nice

like maybe some red and blue silk robes bc now that sokka’s his ambassador he should represent both nations, right?

totally not bc sokka looks fine as hell in red and zuko wants to see sokka in his colors nope nope nope

ANYWAY sokka reacts in a way zuko never expected

like so happy so excited pretty much takes his other clothes off right there in front of zuko to put his new robes on

zuko tries and fails not to let the gay panic show on his face

and sokka starts to wear the robes all the time. like so much that there’s no way he’s washing them enough!

and that won’t fly

like he cant keep wearing the same robes over and over again, right?

so zuko buys him more

and keeps buying him more.

and more and more and more

(oh god this got long more under the cut)

and eventually commissions the finest tailor in the city to make more red and blue tunics/robes/whatever

(and makes sure he also gets sokka some sleeveless tops for more casual wear because holy fuck he’s really starting to grow into himself and his arms it’s super hot in the fire nation capital, especially for a water tribesman from the south pole)

so then he buys him a pair of incredibly expensive leather boots

because he CAN

and because knee high boots look GOOD on sokka okay?

and zuko literally cannot stop because of how excited sokka gets (and also because of how weirdly turned on zuko gets seeing sokka wearing the clothes he bought him but lets like not talk about it)

so this continues for a while.

and sokka is still stupid oblivious.

maybe he thinks it’s just a rich people thing. maybe he thinks zuko does this for everyone

and then one day zuko is like fuck it and brings sokka with him into the expensive, ritzy-ass caldera shopping district and the two of them have themselves a DAY. clothes, shoes, food, sweets, they even go to a spa

and they come back and zuko orders some fancy ass dinner to his room and he and sokka eat and drink wine and maybe get a little affectionate, (but that’s it)

it’s sooooo not a date! (it’s a date)

so very shortly after this sokka’s hanging w the girls while zuko’s doing important firelord things and is wearing some new threads from said shopping trip

and suki - very casually - goes “i like your shirt, your sugar daddy buy that for you?”

sokka sputters bc sugar daddy?!

“my what? - no, zuko did!”

“yeah exactly,” suki says. “your sugar daddy. zuko. zuko your sugar daddy.”

“zuko. my sugar daddy??? we arent even dating?? zuko does this kind of stuff for everyone right???”

and all the girls look at each other like “oh spirits this poor, bi, disaster of a man”

“you think he does that for everyone? hell no. he pays us very nicely i will say and does provide our kyoshi warrior/firelord guard uniforms but he does not buy us a bunch of expensive shit”

sokka looks to mai for backup bc surely he buys her nice dresses and stuff and mai’s just like “oh yeah zuko loves that kind of stuff. he did that for me when we were dating. he definitely has upped his price range for you though.”

sokka’s like O_____O

“oh”

he straight up bursts into zuko’s chambers (his personal guard doesn’t even blink cause they think they’re dating too lol)

and what he means to ask is “are we dating?”

but what he accidentally asks is “are you trying to be my sugar daddy”

zuko goes like beet red and sputters for a moment before squeaking out “um i was trying to be your boyfriend but i could be your sugar daddy”

and sokka knows he can be a dumbass but this is next level even for him.

“i mean i love when you buy me stuff...but i dont want you to think you have to buy me stuff just to get me to like you. i’d still like you even if you were still a broke fugitive”

zuko says “oh 🥺 “

then they kiss

and maybe bang a little

and yes they’re boyfriends and no,zuko is resolutely not sokka’s sugar daddy thank you very much, suki

but it doesn’t mean zuko doesnt still buy sokka HELLA expensive things (and food) all the time.

sokka wants it? he gets it

(zuko is still lowkey sokka’s sugar daddy tho, let’s be real)

#zukka #atla #i will die on the sugar daddy zuko hill #my writing #maybe ill actually Write This Officially one day but if anyone of you guys get thete first tag me #MORE SUGAR DADDY ZUKO #karen writes about zukka

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

First Date (Bill Weasley x OC one-shot)

Warnings: fluff + fluff = this story

Word count: 3,317

Characters: Bill Weasley and my OC Theodora from the story Love, William which you can find here

A/N: First of all I am back! Second of all, I have more ideas for Bill and Theo 🙈 Third of all, I bring fluff! Fourth of all, I am done creating new OCs for a while and want to spend some time creating and bonding with my 3 girls (mostly Nova and Theo because I only have 5 ideas for Rhylee but 47 for Nova (no, she's not my favorite, what are you talking about?)) so you can expect more one-shots from my previous OCs rather than new stories 🥰

“Theo, come down here a sec!”

Theodora peered over the top of her book toward the door and sighed. One of these days, she might get to finish a chapter without her having to leave the room and check out what the twins need.

With them, it was always a guess – either it was something serious and had to do with the shop or they called her just to see her annoyed face when they would tell her that they already took care of it.

“Yes?” She said, halfway down the stairs.

“There's a package for you.” George grinned at her and gave her a rather big box.

“Who is it from?” Theodora's interest was piqued.

“There's no card. There's probably a message inside.” Fred pursed his lips, thinking.

“Is it from Bill?” George sent a wink to Theodora.

It has been 3 days since Bill came to the shop and very spontaneously kissed Theodora full on the mouth. 3 days and Theodora still can't stop thinking about it.

After the twins went away, letting the pair have a private moment, Bill officially asked her out on a date. He was very secretive about it – giving away only the date and the time and saying that she should wear something more formal.

Theodora was so enchanted by the kiss that she simply nodded to everything Bill said and it wasn't until the next day when she started to think about what she is going to wear – wanting to impress Bill – that she realized she has absolutely nothing that would fit the category 'more formal'.

She liked her clothes simple. Tank tops and linen shorts for the summer. Jeans and long-sleeved shirts – preferably in dark green or burgundy red – for the winter. There was nothing in between. She never had the need to buy other clothes and she liked to be comfy – especially since they opened the shop and it was so busy all the time.

The morning after Bill's visit, she threw every pair of pants and every shirt out of her closet. The most formal thing in there was her old Hogwarts uniform and she can't show up in that – Bill would think she has lost her mind.

She sat on her bed, trying to find a gap in her work schedule where she could slip out and get a dress or something. Her face screwed in an uncomfortable expression – she was not a type of a woman to wear dresses. But on the second hand, Bill might like that and if she was completely honest with herself, she never gave dresses a proper chance.

She let out a panicked sigh when she acknowledged that she won't have enough free time in the next 2 days to get the dress. There was also no time to inform Bill that she can't go or ask him if they can postpone so she can buy something for herself. Just the thought of admitting to Bill that she has nothing to wear – finally understanding her roommates which had closets full of clothes but always complained that they can't find the right outfit – made her stomach turn.

Another sigh. If she asks Freddie and Georgie if she can go out for two hours, they are going to tease her or ask her where she is going and if she says she needs something to wear to go on a date with their brother, she will listen to howling, whistling and seeing their eyebrows move up and down mockingly until she leaves for her date with Bill.

It was enough that their first kiss was in front of them. They didn't shut up about it for hours after Bill left for work that day. They teased her in front of customers, when they had their break, when they closed the shop and they waited for her when she came from the shower. She knew that they were happy for them and they were just excited that it finally happened but she also decided then and there that she is never sharing anything about her relationship with Bill with them ever again.

After a day of beating her head around it, she gave up and now that the day of their date has arrived, she tried to bury herself in her book so she wouldn't think about how she is going to wear the same shorts and a top to their first date in which Bill saw her last year at the Burrow.

“I don't know,” Theodora mumbled looking at the big box, shaking it a little.

It was quite light for a box that she could barely hold and the curiosity inside her chest was getting bigger. She wasn't expecting a package. Eric will come and visit in 2 weeks so he wouldn't send her anything. If the box was heavier, she would have a mini heart attack, thinking that perhaps Charlie has sent her a baby dragon.

She put the package down on her bed and carefully opened the lid. It dawned on her that it could easily be the twins trying to prank her. They knew that today was her date with Bill – it was the first thing they mentioned this morning at breakfast. But they wouldn't try to sabotage that, would they? No. No, they would not.

Nothing jumped out of the box when she took the lid completely off. There was something wrapped in thin grey paper and there was a note on the top. Theodora took it and turned it around.

Dear Theodora,

I was so overwhelmed by our kiss the other day that I didn't even consider the fact that I didn't tell you what you should wear to our date.

I apologize for that. I have known where to take you for our first date ever since we admitted our feelings to each other through letters.

To make it up to you, I have bought you a little something to wear. I hope you'll like it. I can't wait to see you tonight.

Love, William

If Theodora didn't find Bill perfect before, she definitely did now. She inhaled and exhaled sharply. She couldn't believe it! He solved her dilemma with one box.

Her heart was racing, looking at the wrapping paper as she placed the card on the bed next to the box. Bill bought her something to wear? He bought her something?

Suddenly she felt really uncomfortable. He shouldn't have. She doesn't deserve this. What if he spent a lot of money on this? Spending any kind of money on her was not okay in her book. She didn't require any gifts, she just wanted him.

Her hands were shaking nonetheless and she finally gave in to opening the box. A loud gasp escaped her mouth when she pulled out a long princess-like black dress. Was Bill insane?! This had to be the most expensive fabric she has ever laid her hands on. And were those feathers, flawlessly falling at the back? A lace corset with a princess cut with a lower part that was shorter in the front than in the back.

Theodora was holding the dress high, staring at it with an opened mouth for solid 5 minutes. Where was Bill taking her that she would have to wear anything like this and why would he put so much effort into their first date?

She put the dress down and looked at herself in the mirror. She frowned at her hair. What is she supposed to do with it? It's as straight as if she was ironing it. Perhaps a high ponytail? A braid to the side would be nice but she never learned how to do that and she never paid attention when her roommates were braiding each other's hair. A ponytail will have to do. She nodded at herself and turned on her heel.

Another wave of panic stroke her as she looked at the dress again, remembering that she has no shoes to match such a beautiful garment. She has boots and flip-flops and a pair of sneakers. Her eyes escaped back to the box – wistfully gazing at it, wishing some shoes would appear there.

She pressed her lips together and peaked inside once more and started rummaging through the wrapping paper.

Theodora wasn't even that surprised when her hand got a hold on something that felt like a shoe. Of course, Bill thought of everything. She couldn't stop a smile from spreading all over her face even though she wanted to. Bill put all this effort into this and what will she do? Just appear there and let Bill do all the work. Pathetic!

She sat down on her bed, now a shoe in each of her hands. She stared at them, half in admiration half in terror. Heels. Bill bought her heels. She swallowed hard, cursing herself to ever make a decision to be comfortable and laughing at the thoughts of ever putting something that made you taller for more than 3 centimeters.

Another mini heart attack. How is she supposed to do this? She couldn't walk in heels! She barely even laid her eyes on a pair. She tilted her head to see the time on the clock she had by the door of her room. 2 more hours until she has to meet Bill.

2 hours to learn how to walk in heels and properly put on a dress with a corset. How hard can it be?

—

“How's it going up here?” A gentle knock on the doorframe and Fred's voice, made Theodora look away from the mirror.

“I-I'm fine.” She bit the inner side of her cheek and smoothened her dress to calm her nerves. “Why?” She asked, turning back to the mirror.

“Well we have heard some heavy footsteps and some thumping here and there and I decided to check up on you. What were you doing?” Fred giggled.

“Oh, nothing. Embarrassing myself, mostly.” Theodora let out a nervous chuckle and showed herself to Fred.

“Theo, wow!” Fred gasped, forgetting how to close his mouth.

He has never seen his best friend in a dress before. She was more likely to wear something of his or his twin than ever put on a dress.

“Where did you get this?” Fred asked after he composed himself.

“I received it in the box this morning.” Theodora's cheeks turned scarlet.

“Bill bought you an outfit for your first date?” His face turned into a smug one immediately.

Theodora nodded and once again turned to the mirror. She put the dress on correctly and she was quite proud of herself for doing so. The heels were surprisingly comfortable but her ankles hurt from her stepping the wrong way, almost breaking them a few times.

“He isn't always like this, right?” Theodora turned to Fred.

“What do you mean?”

“It's just a one-time thing, right? He won't spend money and give me presents?” Theodora explained her question.

“He might.” Fred shrugged. “He fancies you, Theo, let him spoil you.”

“I don't want to be pampered like this.” Theodora frowned. “It's enough if he holds me tight in his arms, smiling softly, listening to me, and showing me with gestures how much I mean to him.”

“I know. You like things simple.” Fred bestowed her with a small smile. “But that won't stop him. Unless you tell him that it's making you uncomfortable.”

“It's not. It's just,” Theodora sighed, “I don't feel worthy of it. I have nothing to give in return. What am I supposed to buy him? A tuxedo?”

“No.” Fred laughed wholeheartedly. “Just show him how much he means to you. I know you never experienced this with any of your ex-boyfriends but Bill is very traditional and a romantic. You might need to get used to this.”

“Okay,” Theodora said slowly. “If it makes him happy and this is something he enjoys doing then I will do it for him.”

“That's the spirit!” Fred exclaimed and wrapped Theodora in a hug.

“Sorry, to interrupt your mo, but Theo, it's time for you to go.” George appeared in the door, pointing at the clock on the wall.

“Bloody hell, I'll be late!” Theodora stood up, trying to balance herself in those heels. She grabbed her black purse – grateful to have at least one item to match – and hurried past George, completely ignoring the dumbfounded expression on his face when he saw what she was wearing.

She hurried down the stairs and out through the back door, hoping she won't be too late. Bill told her to meet him at the only square in Diagon Alley and said that they are going to apparate to Muggle London together from there.

Theodora was surprised at how fast she could run in those heels. She was almost better at running than walking in them. She slowed down as she reached the square, spotting Bill immediately.

Her heart started racing when she saw how dashing he was wearing a black tuxedo and tie and a white buttoned shirt. She must be dreaming – this whole scene and them dressed as they were – it looked like something out of a fairytale.

Bill was turned in the opposite direction, his hands crossed behind his back, rocking on his feet – he seemed nervous. That calmed Theodora down and her heart stopped trying to escape her ribcage.

As she approached him, the sound her heels were making made Bill look in her direction. His eyes widened and all the air in his lungs escaped him as she took his breath away. Theodora bestowed him with a sheepish smile, stopping a few steps away from him.

“So what do you think?” She cleared her throat to make herself appear more confident and twirled on the spot to the best of her abilities.

It was true, the dress did grow on her and she didn't trip over her legs just yet and she wanted to show Bill just how grateful she is for the gift.

“How uncomfortable are you right now?” A giggle escaped his throat, taking a step toward her and offering her his hand.

“It's not as bad as it was 2 hours ago.” Theodora bit her lip.

She felt relieved. Bill knew that this wasn't her cup of tea after all.

“I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable or for you to think that I reckon you don't have a proper attire for where I am taking you tonight,” Bill said with burning cheeks.

“You saved me, actually. I was panicking for far too long about what to wear tonight. I have nothing 'more formal' whatsoever in my closet.”

Theodora loved many things about Bill, but the fact that she could be brutally honest with him and tell him exactly what was on her mind was one of her favorite.

“I promise you can toss the dress the second I get you home safely tonight.” Bill smiled, put his left hand on Theodora's lower back, and pulled her closer to his body.

He first kissed her forehead, then her nose, and then put his other hand on her back and kissed her on the mouth. At first, the kiss was gentle but as they both missed each other so much, it quickly got stronger.

“I have no words for how beautiful you look tonight,” Bill whispered in Theodora's ear, making her knees weaken.

“Thank you.” She breathed.

“I saw the dress yesterday when I was walking home from work and I decided to buy it for you. I wanted to see you in it so badly.” He said, almost apologetically.

“Hopefully, there won't be a lot of dresses like that. I don't want you to spend money on me.” Theodora said truthfully.

“I might, here and there.” Bill winked at her and gestured for them to start walking. “I want to make you see that you deserve the world.”

“Then I'll get all spoiled and demand dresses.” Theodora giggled mockingly.

“See, that's why I want to buy things for you because I know you will never turn into someone like that.” Bill giggled with her.

“So,” Theodora made puppy eyes, “will you finally tell me where we are going tonight all dashing and fancy?” She scanned him from head to toe and winked at him, making Bill's face match the hair in his loose ponytail.

“I'm taking you to the opera.” Bill cleared his throat, trying to hide that he was nervous about how Theodora would react to his date idea.

“To the...” Theodora blinked at him. “...wow.” She didn't know what else to say.

She was never the one to obsess over Muggle things too much but she loved their music, especially classical one. She was pretty sure she never told Bill about that before but she couldn't imagine a better first date.

“I thought you might like it. Last summer you mentioned that you love to listen to music and I wanted to do something not as cliché as a fancy restaurant.” He scratched his cheek.

Bill has been nervous about their date ever since he asked Theodora out. Taking her to the opera seemed like a brilliant idea up until the point he arrived at the square and waited for her there. What if Theodora wouldn't like it? What if she would think he is weird for taking her to the opera?

Bill's face brightened up when he saw the sparks with which Theodora was looking at the opera house. He felt so relieved that she liked the idea and wasn't disappointed about where he was taking her.

“What are we listening to?” Theodora questioned, looking around and reminding herself of how she looked at the Enchanted Ceiling when she first arrived at Hogwarts.

“I think it's called Carmen by...”

“Georges Bizet!” Theodora squeaked but then quickly put her hands over her mouth, realizing how inappropriate her behavior was for such a beautiful building.

“You know it?” Bill let out a silent laugh.

“Know it? It's my favorite.”

Without thinking about it, Theodora jumped into Bill's arms, hugging him as tightly as she could.

Suddenly she didn't care about the people walking past them, she wanted to express how much this meant to her. She never thought she would be lucky enough to go to the opera, let alone to listen to her favorite one.

All of Bill's doubts if this was a good idea were diminished the second the music started playing and the singers appeared on the stage. Theodora was sitting on the edge of her seat the entire time, her mouth slightly opened, her eyes glistened with tears of admiration for their voices and the beauty of it all.

Bill has never been to the opera either and if he was perfectly honest with himself, he wasn't sure how much he would like it, but seeing Theodora enjoying it so much was completely worth it to him.

He was thankful that he could enjoy listening to it without paying attention to what was happening on the stage because he couldn't take his eyes of Theodora. Not only did she look breathtaking but the way she was paying attention to the stage – how happy it made her and how she admired the singers – made him fall in love with her even more and he couldn't wait for her to tell him about all the places she ever had a wish to see and visit because he wants her to have more moments like this.

They decided to walk back home. Bill insisted that he accompanies her to her apartment and despite being worried that Theodora's feet might hurt in those heels, he didn't want to apparate because Theodora couldn't stop talking about what they have just experienced in that opera house and Bill could listen to her for hours, his heart melting by the passion in her eyes.

#the weasleys #weasley family #the burrow #weasley fanfiction #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x oc #bill weasley imagine #summer at the burrow #bill weasley romance #fred weasley #george weasley #one-shot #bill weasley one-shot

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konglindorm · 3 years

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Lindworm: Chapter 1

(This is a little over half of the first chapter I had planned to share the whole thing, but then I realized it was 7,000 words. You can buy and read the rest of Lindworm here!)

“Thank you so much for thinking of me,” Marit said, “but really I would rather not marry a monster.”

Marit would not have thought herself the sort of person to talk back to kings, had she ever had cause to contemplate such matters. But then she never would have thought the king the sort of person to sacrifice a girl to a lindworm, and yet here she was, the third victim.

She was only seventeen, and this wedding was a death sentence.

Six months ago, Prince Harald had set out to find a bride, and had been stopped by a great serpent in the road. Since then, the serpent—the lindworm—had eaten two foreign princesses, both after a sham of a wedding. Both women had thought they were coming to marry Prince Harald.

Here, in the forest outside the capital city, rumors had flown. Rumors that they would shortly be at war with both kingdoms that had lost a princess, and rumors, more interesting to their small family with no members likely to be sent to the battlefield, of the lindworm, of why a man-eating dragon would be welcomed to the palace and fed. Rumors that said the lindworm was Prince Harald’s brother, that the king humored it instead of killing it because the monster was family.

Marit didn’t know how much truth there might be to such rumors. She didn’t know how a queen could bear and birth a serpent, but she did know the world was full of strange, incomprehensible things.

The king stared at her, his men standing stiffly by. It had not, of course, been thoughtfulness that led him to her cottage in the woods. Marit knew this, and knew that the marriage was not optional, and that one could not speak to a king in this manner and expect to keep one’s head. But when one has already been sentenced to death, such things as respect for royalty matter very little.

“It is not an offer,” the king informed her when he found his voice. “It is a command, and you may choose to obey or not, but willing or unwilling, you will find yourself before a priest in my great hall one week from now.”

One week, she thought. One week to live the rest of her life. She could run—could she run?

No, if the king was leaving her a few days to say her goodbyes, it was only because he knew she could not run. There would be guards posted. She would be caught and brought back. She would still end the week dead, and likely her father and sister, too, if the king suspected they had helped her. As they certainly would.

Her family—they were away from the house now, deeper into the woods, scavenging. There was little left to eat, their winter stores almost empty by March, and the ground still too frozen to begin the year’s planting. She had stayed behind to tend to the animals, too likely to slow them down after twisting her ankle yesterday, falling from a tree; it had barely hurt, and would be healed by tomorrow. The king would be long gone before they returned, and it would fall to her to explain her upcoming death.

“There will be a bride price, of course,” said the king.

Marit wasn’t quite sure what a bride price was, thought it may be like a dowry—she’d sewn items, slowly, over the last several years for her dowry, but doubted the lindworm would demand her linens as well as her life.

The king went on to explain the bride price, the amount of money her father would be given for this farce of a marriage—the opposite of a dowry, then, and a staggering amount.

It had been a long, brutal winter following a short, dry summer, and for that price Marit may have volunteered herself. Any number of young women may have; it was enough to save not only their own small farm, but those of a few near neighbors. Enough to buy a second goat, a few more chickens, enough to pay all of their debts in the city and have their broken tools repaired.

For such a sum, she would have volunteered. She would have gladly given her life to so dramatically improve the lives of her father and younger sister.

But the king had not asked. The king had demanded, and Marit knew she would resent him for however many days she had left to do so.

He left her, as she’d expected, with guards posted nearby, and she led the animals back to their shed and let herself back into the cottage, not wanting to look at them, their clean uniforms with shiny brass buttons, their polished boots slowly gathering mud, their faces as they avoided her eyes, because they knew, must know, that this was wrong, and yet they were loyal to their king, and would not let her run.

Marit watched through the back window, working idly on her knitting, unable to stay focused on the difficult stitch she’d meant to master this week, until she saw her sister and her father coming out from the woods. She ran to meet them, and hurried them inside before they could ask about the soldiers scattered about. And then she told them.

“Why you?” Greta cried. “Why you?”

She hadn’t asked how he’d chosen her, out of all the unwed maids within walking distance of the palace. She didn’t think she wanted to know why it was her that must die, and not Annette, who had no father to protect her, or Martine, who was more beautiful, or Signe or Gretchen or any of the other girls she knew.

She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who wished death on her friends, either.

Besides, the lindworm had already eaten two women, and there was no reason to expect he might stop at a third. They may all be dead before this ended, Gretchen and Signe and Annette and Martine, and the younger girls, Greta and her friends, all the forest, all the city, someday all the kingdom sacrificed to satisfy the appetite of a monster that should have been killed the moment it showed itself to Prince Harald.

She could only hope that the fathers of the dead princesses would declare war, that they would kill her king and his lindworm with him before the whole country was devoured.

King Olaf had always been known as a kind and noble king. He’d lowered taxes and held festivals and been much loved, before these last six months, and Marit didn’t understand. She didn’t understand how a good king could become a bad one overnight because of one monster.

Maybe it was his son. Marit would throw the whole world over for Greta, she knew, but she’d been at Greta’s side since she’d emerged from their mother’s stomach, been the first to hold the new baby, tiny and wrinkled and red, getting blood all over her vest, as their father had said his goodbyes to Mama, only turning his attention to Marit and the new baby when his wife was gone.

For Greta, for her father, for Mama if she’d lived, Marit would do anything. But if a boar walked out of the woods and claimed to be her long lost brother, she wouldn’t take him at his word, wouldn’t escort him into the city to trample the blacksmith just because he asked her.

She didn’t think the king could hide a paternal relationship with a lindworm for several years. They must have met only when he stopped the prince on the road. And Marit didn’t understand.

She gathered Greta in her arms and listened to the younger girl cry, unable to shed any tears for herself, unsure why. She looked over Greta’s head at her father, and saw the same desperate sadness in his eyes that she had seen when she was five years old, and her mother was dying in childbirth. Her father loved her, but he could do nothing to save her, and they all knew it. He could not defy the king; to try would only make him angry, would likely risk Greta’s life too.

He came and wrapped himself around them both, and Marit thought, but was not quite sure, that he wept too. She sat, dry-eyed, between them, for long hours, until it was time for dinner and bed.

They watched out the window as a new group of soldiers marched in, and the first group left. At least they weren’t expected to feed and board their prison guards.

In the morning they found that the soldiers would let Marit go where she pleased, but one or two would always follow, from a respectful distance. No one followed her sister or father, so they went in three different directions, to the neighbors and to the city, Marit to make her farewells, and all of them to give warning. The king is feeding maidens to his lindworm. Marit is the first; she will not likely be the last. Send your daughters quietly to family in other cities, if you can. Marry them quickly to boys in the village, if you can. We do not know why the lindworm wants weddings, but he does, so make your daughters unweddable.

Gretchen, when Marit told her, said it probably had to do with a dragon’s fondness for virgins. She then said that if the king came to her, she would rid herself of virginity with the first man she could find before she would go to the lindworm, with the whole town to watch as proof, if necessary.

Gretchen’s older brother, the only other person there save the guards, too far away to overhear, made a sound of disapproval in the back of his throat, but said nothing.

Marit wondered if it was too late to try Gretchen’s plan for herself, and concluded it probably was—if the lindworm demanded a virgin, then the soldiers would not let her cease to be one. The small chance of success wasn’t worth giving herself to a man she didn’t want and wouldn’t be allowed to keep. And the kind of man who might cooperate with such a plan would likely not make it a happy experience to cherish in her final days. She reminded Gretchen of the soldiers before moving on to the next neighbors.

Marit spend her days wandering, mostly. There was work to be done, and she helped, or tried to—her father said not to trouble herself with anything in these last few days, and when she insisted, she often found herself too distracted to finish, or at least to finish well, haunted constantly by imaginings of what the lindworm might be like, how it might feel to be eaten. She remembered breaking a finger in a slamming door as a child, the sharp crack of it, the pain. She imagined the pain and the cracking both amplified as an enormous snake swallowed her whole, as snakes will do, and then, bizarrely, imagined cowering on a banquet table as the lindworm sliced her to pieces with a knife held in its tail, popping each slice into its mouth one at a time, sometimes dipping a slice in a butter-sauce first.

She still had not cried, though she had found herself several times laughing hysterically at humorless jokes she couldn’t explain. Greta didn’t need to know about the butter sauce.

When there were two days left before the wedding, she went out intending to collect eggs from the chickens, and her feet carried her, instead, deeper into the woods.

The guards followed at a distance.

Marit stopped when she saw an old woman ahead. She was short, with white hair spilling from her cap, bright and cheerful in a blue skirt and red vest, and she smiled like an old friend at Marit, and asked why she was so sad.

Marit wasn’t a fool. She knew how it was with mysterious old women in forests, knew they were to be respected. Knew how often they carried magic within themselves. Knew that to cross them was idiocy, and that to be kind and respectful could change the course of one’s life.

So Marit told the woman her troubles, and the woman smiled again. “It will be all right,” she said. “If you obey me, it will be all right. Now, here is what you must do.”

Marit wasn’t foolish enough to think she might live through this, but she wasn’t foolish enough to ignore the gift of a wise woman in the wood, either, even when that gift was the strangest advice she’d ever been given. Wear ten shifts beneath your dress, have milk and lye and whips waiting in your bedchamber.

She was already going to die; what did it matter if the king’s servants thought her a madwoman?

Ten shifts, though, would not be an easy thing to manage. Marit had two shifts, and two night shifts, which were wool instead of linen, with sleeves too wide to be hidden beneath her dress. She would have to rip them off. Greta owned the same, not much smaller as she was tall for her age, but Marit could not deprive her sister of all her undergarments, so only took one day shift and one night shift from her. That brought her to six, and four more yet to find. She couldn’t buy them; the king’s money wouldn’t come to her father until the day after the wedding. She had her dowry linens, unneeded now, and could use the fabric to make more shifts. But she had two days left to live, and wasn’t willing to spend her last precious moments sewing. With Greta’s help she converted one white bedsheet into a shift, but would sacrifice no more time when she had so many goodbyes to say—to friends, to livestock, to trees and streams and every future she had ever imagined for herself.

She begged one more shift from Olga, whose family was wealthier and who had one to spare for an acquaintance going to her death. Eight shifts, eight, two short, and no time to find more. It would have to be enough.

The morning she was to be taken away, Marit’s father pulled out her mother’s wedding dress and offered it to her.

Marit shook her head. “It should go to Greta. To a real wedding.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” her father said. “Take it, so your mother can be with you, as Greta and I cannot.”

So Marit put on her eight shifts, and she put on the dress. She was a bit smaller than her mother had been when she married, and it still fit despite the extra layers. Greta had wanted to make her a crown of flowers to match, but there were still few flowers in bloom, so she wove the crown from evergreen branches instead, coating her hands in sap, and placed it carefully on her sister’s head.

The three of them waited, solemnly, for Marit to be taken away. There was nothing left to say. All of the goodbyes were finished, all of the plans made. The next morning someone would come from the palace with the bride price and whatever was left of Marit to be buried. Her father would sell the animals and the house, give them away if he couldn’t sell them fast enough, and he would hire a wagon to take them far, far from the capital, to start a new life where the lindworm would never touch Greta. They’d gone over the details last night. Greta had cried again.

Marit still hadn’t cried, and thought she might be able to, now, but would not let herself; she didn’t want her tears seen by whoever took her away. She found she was more angry than sad. She felt a sharpness growing within her. Her life was forfeit, and so too was her sense of obligation to respect, to loyalty. The king, the queen, the prince, the priests who’d performed the weddings and the soldiers and couriers who’d stood by—damn them, she thought, damn them all, and damn the idea she owed them the barest amount of anything.

The king came to fetch her himself, and she refrained from spitting in his face only because of the guards that surrounded him, the fear they might kill her where she stood and cost her father the bride price.

The king was different, not angry and demanding as he had been a week ago, but stiff with an awkwardness that might almost be shame. Marit hugged her father and Greta one last time, and followed him back toward the city, his guards forming a circle around them. She didn’t care that he may feel shame; she had enough anger by now for the both of them.

He was quiet, and Marit didn’t want quiet. Not quite understanding the compulsion, she found herself goading him.

“What will happen after this?” she asked, and the king looked at her, then quickly away again. It was a long walk on foot, and she didn’t know why a king wouldn’t take a carriage, but she didn’t mind the extra time in her forest.

“You will be prepared for the wedding by lady’s maids. The wedding will be in the great hall, and after that we will have a banquet.”

“Not tonight,” Marit said, spurred by the thought of Annette being sent hundreds of miles away to an uncle she’d never met, of Gretchen searching for a man to defile her rather than be eaten. “Not to me. What will happen to your kingdom? After me, you’ll kill off every maid in the country, and then I suppose you’ll have to go to war, and find slaves to feed his appetite? Discipline is important for growing boys, Your Majesty. Learn to say no to your son.”

He raised a hand as if to slap her, and she tilted her chin forward, daring him—let him hit her, here surrounded by a small army, let all these soldiers, already uneasy with their roles, go home and report to their friends and families that their king was a man who struck defenseless maidens.

He lowered his hand, leaving Marit oddly disappointed. It would have been another reason to be angry, and her anger was protecting her from her fear.

The king sighed heavily. “We all do foolish things for our children.”

She wondered if he meant the lindworm, or only Prince Harald, who could not be married until it was satisfied. It didn’t matter—the result was the same for her.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, suddenly exhausted. Maybe a king could afford to do foolish things for his children. Her own father had to be sensible—foolishness would only have hurt Greta. She felt the anger draining away, the fear rising up again. She didn’t want to die.

They arrived at the palace from a side gate, not taking the wide, paved road beneath the cherry trees, where any number of people might have seen their arrival. The king and his soldiers handed her off to a large group of women, some more elegant than others, and she asked him, before he left, what time the wedding would be.

“At eight o’clock,” he said. “Will that give you enough time to prepare?” One of the more elegant women assured him it would, and he told her, “Give the girl whatever she wants. It’s her wedding day, after all.” He laughed, unamused, more bitter than cruel, and then he was gone.

“Is there anything special we can do for you, miss?” asked one of the plainer women, who was likely a maid.

Marit thought of the old woman in the forest. “This is going to sound a little strange.”

All of the more plainly dressed women left to carry out her last request, leaving Marit with a flock of beautiful women whose most simple everyday clothes were likely ten times more expensive than her mother’s wedding dress. They tried to have her out of it, into borrowed silks instead, but she refused. It was the last gift from her father, the only familiar thing in this place. She kept her evergreen crown as well, but let them take it away long enough to clean away the sap, rubbing it from the branches and brushing it out of her hair.

They re-braided her hair into a more elaborate style, stringing in gemstones to match her dress, and applied powders and creams to her face, which itched and made her sneeze. She watched them carefully, picking out one who seemed both kind and fancy enough to know little of a peasant’s daily life. She drew her away from the crowd and explained, in a whisper, “I haven’t any underthings. I only own the one shift, and I left it for my sister, so she would have one to wear on laundry day. I didn’t think it would matter, when I’m only to die tonight, but I’m—I’m embarrassed to have all these fine people watching me, thinking that if the light hits just so they’ll see I’m not dressed properly.”

The woman believed, somehow, that a peasant girl might have come to a royal wedding with no undergarments, and offered to find a spare shift.

“Could I have two, please?” The woman raised her eyebrows, and Marit ducked her head. “It’s a tradition—I know it shan’t be a real wedding night, but it’s a tradition to make the groom work a little harder the first time.”

The woman believed the tradition she’d never heard of, as well, and came back shortly with two more shifts, beautiful, silken things, bringing Marit to the required ten.

The next problem came when she realized the women had no intention of leaving her alone while she took off her wedding dress and put on the shifts, which was awkward for more reasons than the eight shifts she already wore. She explained that she was not accustomed to being seen undressed by strangers, and finally they left her, for the first moment of privacy she’d had in hours, and the last she expected to have in her life.

She took off the dress and put on the shifts. She paused to look in the mirror—a thing she’d heard of but never before seen—and wondered if that was what she truly looked like, or only the effect of the powders and creams. She pulled the dress back on, took a few deep breaths—she had not cried yet, she would not cry now—and reopened the door so that the women could help re-fasten the dress in the back.

They set the evergreen crown back on her head, and took her to the priest that would read her last rites.

The hall where they held the wedding was gorgeous, with shining wood floors and dark walls covered in rosemåling, blue and gold and red. All the court was seated when she arrived, dressed in their finest clothes, looking horrified. She recognized the king and the queen and the prince, familiar from a dozen parades, sitting in the front row. The rest were strangers.

And then she saw the lindworm.

It was the height of six or seven men, white like a maggot, or the mold on stale bread. It had dark wings on its back, too small to hold its weight in flight, and shiny white fangs quite visible even when its mouth was shut. It had no legs. There was a crown balanced at the top of its head, the size a man would wear, which might have been funny if it hadn’t planned to eat her.

It was staring at her with an expression of mild curiosity, recognizable because its eyes were the eyes of a man, over-large, but still small in its serpent head, the same shade of blue as a dozen young men she’d seen in the city.

#lindworm #fairy tales #folklore #Fairy tale retellings #new release #my book #it's almost here #two days #prince lindworm #king lindworm #king lindorm #kong lindorm #wax heart press

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch 5- Bread Cat Power Pack

Co Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: Jake and Stella patch up their friendship, but Evan isn’t particularly happy about it.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.

A/N: We KNOW this is a slow burn but we promise things are going to heat up soon!!!

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Stella stood at the trunk of the CIA issued Sedan, grimacing. It was the middle of January, cold and snowy, and she had a few bags of shopping to get back into her apartment. She was trying to figure out if she could make it upstairs with all of it at once, to prevent having to come back down, but was failing to see how it was possible.

“Needs some help?” a familiar voice asked and she turned to see Jake coming towards her, still in his uniform, his heavy boots leaving prints in the light, powdery dusting of fresh snow.

She smiled “Yeah, actually. You can grab a couple of these, save me coming back down.”

Jake looked in the trunk and scoffed “You stocking for winter, Stel?” he asked as he grabbed three of the bags.

She snorted “I literally have nothing in my cupboards.” She picked up the remaining two, locked the car and followed him to the main doors of the Condo building. “I’ve not really been here over the last two weeks so…” “I guess you’ve been spending time at your boyfriend’s huh?” Jake asked, his voice neutral as Stella managed to open the door.

“His name is Evan.” She rolled her eyes “And yeah, you could say that.”

Jake remained quiet as they strode to the elevator. Stella called it down and once the doors pinged open, they stepped inside and Jake placed the bags he was carrying down at his feet.

“So, I haven’t seen you since New Year.” Stella looked at him “How’s stuff going? You and Britney good?” “Yeah, erm, about that…” Jake cleared his throat a little as he selected their floor.

As the doors shut, Stella turned to look at him, frowning “Is there something wrong or…”

“That depends on who you ask.” Jake mused “If you ask her then yeah. She’ll probably tell you I’m a…what were her exact words? Oh right, a fucking asshole”

“What did you do?” Stella sighed and Jake grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I dumped her.”

Stella raised her eyebrows “Well speaking from experience, I can kinda see why she might be a little upset.”

Jake looked at her for a moment, deciding whether or not to respond to her little dig but in the end he didn’t get chance as the elevator stopped and opened on their floor. Jake picked up his bags and followed her across to her apartment. She set the bags she was carrying down, grabbed her key and the door swung open. Jake stepped in after her, nudging the door shut with his foot and instantly that familiar smell of vanilla, fresh laundry and the light tones of her perfume hit his senses. He hadn’t been in here for months. They made their way through to the little kitchen and she flipped on the lights, Jake dropping the bags onto the side.

“So are you ok about the pair of you being over or…” Stella turned to face him and Jake wrinkled his nose.

“Well, I wasn’t that into her. I mean, she was just…” he stopped and shrugged a little “I’m all right, yeah.”

Stella snorted, shaking her head “Wow.”

“Had to be honest with her.”

At that Stella couldn’t help the scoff that escaped her throat “That’s a first”

“Wow, that’s the second dig in the last 2 minutes.” Jake arched an eyebrow and Stella inwardly cursed herself. He’d done nothing to deserve either of the shots she’d taken, especially after he was being nothing but helpful

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“Was it?” he asked.

There was a moment’s pause before they both spoke at the same time.

“Look, Jake, I don’t wanna…”

“I miss you Stel…you know, us hanging out.

The last bit of Jake’s sentence was added hastily and Stella took a deep breath.

“You’ve been a jerk to me recently, JJ”

“I know I fucked it all up.” He continued pleading his case “But I love you Stel, as friends, ya know?”

She studied him for a moment, and Jake held his breath before her eyes softened, the way they always did when she was coming round, and he exhaled slowly.

“Guess I miss you too.” She said quietly.

At her words Jake’s face split into a grin. “You guess or…”

“Don’t push it.”

He laughed, and on a roll he decided to see how far he could edge his luck. “I don’t suppose you’re free tonight, maybe grab a pizza, I got beer.”

Stella felt her face fall “Sorry JJ, Ev’s coming over.” and as she spoke she realised she actually was sorry. For a split second she considered calling Ev and cancelling, which in itself confused her. Why was she even thinking that? And then she realised, it was because she missed Jake. Despite everything, they’d been through too much for her not to care for him.

Jake nodded, “Okay, well, maybe another night?”

Stella blinked, she’d been expecting some sarcastic quip about Evan but none had come, which surprised her a little. That said, she smiled and nodded “Yeah I’d like that.”

Jake nodded “Right, I’ll err…let you unpack all that then and see you later I guess.”

“Yeah, great. Oh, and thanks.” She smiled “For helping me.”

“Well, you know me, I’m not one to leave a damsel in distress.” He winked. “I’ll see myself out.”

He made his way out of the apartment, closing her door behind him, taking a deep breath as he headed over the landing. Despite the setback about the pizza and beer, he felt good. The air was clearer, it was good progress, easy easy catch a monkey and all that.

He fished in his pocket for his keys and just as he was opening his door he heard hers open behind him.

“Look, I got a little while.” Stella spoke “I was gonna bake some cookies, you wanna help?”

Jensen allowed himself a grin before he turned to face her “You miss me already?”

“Don’t push it asswipe.” She shot back and he laughed.

“Gonna make extra dough so I can eat it?”

She rolled her eyes “Yes, dur.”

“Ok, gimme ten to change and I’ll come over.”

“Use your key.” She nodded, before she pulled her head back in her apartment and shut the door.

Jensen gave a little fist pump of victory as he stepped inside his hallway, smirking to himself “Operation Petunia is a go…”

**** After a quick shower, Jensen changed into a pair of grey sweats, a plain navy blue t-shirt and headed over the hall in his socks. As instructed, he let himself in and walked through to the kitchen, the sound of the radio growing louder as he went. He stopped in the doorway and watched as Stella stood with her back to him, dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized white- slouchy vest top with a tighter cami underneath, rifling in a cupboard. He felt a sudden, nostalgic pang for the times she used to dress casually like that around their student quarters or back at home when they were slobbed in front of the TV at her Ma’s or his Parents. With a little breath, he coughed and she turned to face him, smiling before she nodded to the fridge.

“Make yourself useful and grab us a coupla’ beers will ya?”

He saluted her and she gave a snort as he headed to the fridge and pulled it open, giving a groan as he spotted the Sam Adams. Grabbing two, he popped the tops before he handed her one. She thanked him and continued pulling the ingredients she needed out of the cupboards, the pair of them falling into an easy, but still careful conversation. Stella cursed as she mumbled something about her digital scales running out of batteries and then retrieved the old faithful analogue ones.

“Why is it, when you need something, that’s always the time it’s gonna end up nor working?” she grumbled, setting the dial to zero carefully.

“One of life’s many mysteries Stel.” Jake said wisely as she began to measure the flour out. “Along with why cats always fall on their feet, snidey little bastards.”

Stella snorted, “Or why buttered bread always lands butter down when you drop it? Although I think there’s a scientific explanation to that.”

“There is.” Jake nodded, taking a drink from his beer “When the bread falls out of your hand, it does so at an angle, see, by nature of it having slipped from its previous position, and it rotates.” Jensen twisted his hand in the air to demonstrate his point “Given that it’s normally dropped from a hand or a table, which is like two feet or so, there’s enough time for the toast to rotate about one-half of a turn and thus it lands upside down relative to its original position and oh my God, I’ve just had a brainwave!” he trailed off, grinning

Stella looked at him, her mouth dropping open “What, hang on, back up!”

“No, listen. I just said a cat always lands on its feet right?”

Yeah.” Stella looked at him.

“And you said that bread with butter always falls butter side down?”

Stella’s eyes squinted in confusion. “Jake, what the fuck are you…”

“Just hear me out.” he looked at her as he placed his beer bottle on the side behind him. “If…” both his hands flew up, pointers extended, the bottom of his t-shirt riding up slightly as he did so “If you fastened bread with butter to a cat’s back, then the Cat will keep turning and never fall on the ground.”

Stella blinked and simply looked at him, the way she always did when he was being utterly ridiculous.

“And then, if I attached the bread cat to a generator…” he grinned and held his hands out by his sides, palms open facing upwards “Infinite energy.”

There was a pause before Stella bust out laughing.

“That is the dumbest thing I ever heard!” she shook her head “And that’s saying something coming from you!”

“You won’t be laughing when I’m a millionaire.” Jensen said sagely. “Bread Cat Power Pack, copyright Jacob Calvin Jensen.”

“The only way you’ll ever become a millionaire is if they give you a dollar every time someone laughs at your stupid, shit ideas.” She shook her head, her hands falling to her hips.

“Laugh all you want Stelly, but I’m planning on buying a yellow hummer with the profits.”

Stella paused. That was the first time he’d called her Stelly in…well, she couldn’t actually remember. But it felt nice. This whole scenario felt nice in fact, the pair of them, just hanging out. Just like old times, before it all went to shit.

She smiled “What is it with you and hummers?”

“I just like them.”

“They’re vile, JJ.”

“No, they aren’t. They’re classy.” He picked his beer back up.

“Classy.” Stella snorted and Jake pointed his bottle towards her.

“You never could appreciate the finer things in life.” he sighed dramatically.

“Considering I appreciated you for years that’s a dumbass thing to say.” she arched an eyebrow at him

“Aww you sayin’ I’m a finer thing, Stel?” he teased and she rolled her eyes, ignoring him.

“Why yellow?”

“Why not?” he popped a shoulder at her question before he grinned “It matches my sunny disposition.”

At that Stella gave another snort “God, Jake!”

Jensen simply grinned back and Stella watched him for a second, noticing how relaxed he seemed. Every time she’d seen him over the past month or so he’d been tense. But today, gone was the unusual sulky demeanour he’d embodied recently and he wasn’t snapping or being mean. He was simply being Jake. The Jake she adored.

“Hey, Stel?” Jake asked, dragging her from her thoughts. “Reckon we can make these cookies in the shape of Hummers?”

“Do you have a Hummer shaped cookie cutter?” she asked, turning her attention back to the job in hand, tossing the ingredients into the mixing bowl.

“No.” Jensen wrinkled his nose “Why would I have one of those?”

“Then that’s your answer.”

“Buzz kill.” He muttered, fighting to keep the smirk of his face as he knew exactly what effect those words would have on her. She hated it when he insinuated she was no fun.

“Buzz kill?” she turned to look at him.

“Yup.”

“Fuck you.” She retorted, and Jake gave a splutter as a handful of flour hit him straight in the face, going right up his nostrils and into his mouth.

He blinked, looked at Stella before he shook his head "Oh, Stel, it's on..." he smirked before he moved towards her and she gave a shriek as he easily manhandled her out of the way and grabbed the flour she was trying to move out of his reach. The kitchen filled with yells and laughter as handful after handful went flying around into faces, hair, just about any visible body part and suddenly they were jerked from their little flour war when a clearing of a throat could be heard. Both of them turned to see Evan standing in the kitchen door, a bouquet of bright flowers in one hand and a bottle of something in the other.

"How the fuck did you get in?” Jensen blurted out before he could stop himself and Stella punched him on the arm “Ow, Stell, shit!”

“Don’t be rude.” She glared at him.

“For your information,” Evan stated as he walked into the kitchen “, not that it’s any of your business, but Stel gave me the spare key.”

“Huh.” Jake looked at him before he grinned “I got one of those too.”

Evan looked at him, his eyes squinted slightly “Good for you.”

“Yeah, it is!” Jake continued, the grin still stood on his face.

The two men remained staring at one another, Jake covered head to toe in flour as Stella gave a little groan but before she could tell the pair of them to behave, Evan spoke.

“What’s all this mess?” he asked, nodding to the flour all over the room.

“Oh, we had a mission where we seized over Forty kilos of cocaine.” Jake spoke, his voice deadly serious “I thought I'd bring it round for a good time.”

At that point Stella gave a snort of laughter, nudging Jake hard on the arm, the pair of them giggling again before she spotted the look on Evan’s face. His features were completely serious and there was a flash of anger in his eyes. So she coughed and shook her head.

“I was trying to bake some cookies and Jakey was helping me, sort of.” She shrugged “He’s more of a pain in the ass than a help, mind.”

She didn’t miss the way Evan cringed when she called Jensen ‘Jakey’ but before she could say anything Jensen grumbled.

“Rude.”

“Well you are. You're a monumental pain in the ass” Stella rolled her eyes.

“Yeah but you love me Stel” Jake winked and Stella arched an eyebrow, folding her arms in cloud of flour.

“Jury's out”

“You know…” Evan spoke, his tone sarcastic as he set the bottle he was carrying on the kitchen side “..if i'm interrupting something I can leave.”

“Easy man! But yeah-“ Jensen flashed his trademark grin “You just interrupted us.”

Stella slapped him round the back of the head. “No, you didn’t.”

“Stop hitting me!” Jensen rubbed the place where her palm had connected.

“Well stop being a jerk!”

He turned to face her and sarcastic quip he had prepared died as he saw that she was no longer grinning at him.

“Shouldn’t you go and get cleaned?” Evan spoke and Jake looked at him, wrinkling his nose.

“I kinda like being dirty.”

Stella groaned again as she wiped her face and hands free from flour and then nodded to the bouquet Evan had in his hands “Are they for me?”

“No, I bought them for Jensen.” He dead panned with a roll of his eyes, before his handsome face split into a grin. “Course they're for you baby.”

Jensen watched as Stella smiled broadly and he took in the bunch of brightly coloured gerberas and roses, frowning a little. And then, once more he just couldn’t help but stir the pot at little bit more.

“Oh man. She hasn’t told you about her favourites, hasn’t she?” he nodded to the flowers. Evan frowned and Stella wheeled round to glare at Jake.

“Seriously Jake, shut up.”

“You should have brought her petunias.” Jensen sighed, his hands on his hips as she shook his head with the manner of a father disappointed at his child.

“Yeah, see you're talking but all I'm hearing is noise.” Evan rolled his eyes as Stella reached for the bouquet.

“I’ll put them in a vase. Thanks baby, they’re gorgeous” she beamed at him.

Jake couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the smug look on Evan’s face, most likely cos she just called him baby in front of him. But seriously, what kind of dick boyfriend doesn’t know what his girl’s favourite flowers are?

Evan then picked up the bottle he'd set on the side with a flourish and spun it so the label was facing Stella "I also saw this at one of the stalls at the market and it made me think of you."

Stella looked at him, not understanding for a moment, before she read the label and her eyes opened wide.

“Pumpkin spiced gin…oh my god!” she laughed, taking it from him.

Evan grinned “Now you can make alcoholic lattes.”

“Or just drink it neat over ice.” She smiled at him “I bet this tastes amazing.”

At that Evan smirked and when he spoke again his voice dropped an octave “Probably not as good as you but we’ll give it a go.”

At that Stella flushed and Jake gave an audible groan and then immediately wished he hadn’t as he’d given the dickhead everything he wanted. Evan turned to him with a maddeningly smug look on his face “Still here Jensen? Thought you were going.”

“You wish.” Jake mumbled, but thankfully neither of them heard him as Stella was studying the bottle label to try and hide her embarrassment. He took a deep breath, he knew he had to be careful not to make Stella pissed at him again. So, in a rare self-aware moment, he cleared his throat and spoke a little louder “Well as riveting as chatting with you is, Ev, you're right. I got stuff to do, you know, places to go, people to see..."

“Yeah, sure you do.” Evan replied flippantly “Tell Britney I said hi.”

“Ev, don’t.” Stella shook her head and Evan frowned, turning to her.

“What, I’m not…”

“It’s ok Stelly, he didn't know.” Jensen hid the little smile that was threatening to creep onto his lips at the flinch Evan had made when he used Stella’s old nickname and he gave a shrug. “We broke up.”

“You broke up?” Evan repeated, his face blank. “I’m sorry man.”

“Don’t be.” Jake waved a hand. “Actually it was me who broke it off.”

“Well, still, you must be a little bit...upset, I suppose?”

“Nope.” Jake shook his head “What's got 2 thumbs and is free, single and ready to mingle?” he jerked his thumbs at himself. “This guy"

With that he pat Evan on his shoulder “See ya later.” and he made his way out of Stella’s apartment, closing door behind him. Once it was shoot he paused and took a deep breath.

Fuck that guy.

Up until him turning up they’d been having a great time, simply messing around in the kitchen like they used to. Mind you, it had been a good afternoon, the pair of them were back on even terms, so all in all…yeah, Jensen felt buoyed. With a little spring in his step he headed over the hall back to his apartment and straight to the fridge for a beer. As he popped the lid his phone pinged with a message from Pooch. He, Cougs and Roque were heading out for a few beers and Jake’s presence was apparently “not required but welcome.” Jensen smiled, he was in a good mood so, yeah, drinks!

He showered again to get rid of the flour, changed into a pair of jeans and a casual black sweater before he shrugged on his warm SuperDry coat and headed back out. As he passed Stella’s door on the way to the elevator he could hear her raised voice and instantly he felt his skin prickle. His Jakey Sense as Stella had jokingly dubbed it was tingling. He paused and moved closed to the doors and could hear her and Evan were arguing.

He shouldn’t listen, he knew that, but they were being so loud it was impossible not to. Plus, when all’s said and done he was also a nosey bastard.

“For fucks sake, Ev! You've been fine for the last twenty minutes, why are you brining this up now?”

“All I said was I wish you'd told me about the flowers! I've bought you bouquets before and you never mentioned petunias.”

Jake smirked a little as Stella groaned.

“It’s really not that big a deal!”

“Well apparently it is according to Jensen!” Evan shot back.

“So that's what this is about. It isn't the flowers at all is it? It's Jake” Stella responded, her voice agitated and Jake could completely picture her stood there, arms folded, glaring up at him. He’d seen it often enough himself.

“And what if it is?” Evan’s voice was equally as loud.

“Oh for fucks sake...he's my friend, my best friend.”

“And your EX, Stella!”

“Carry on this way and you will be as well!” Stella shot back and at that Jake felt his smirk grow even wider.

“Way to go Stel…” he mumbled to himself.

“What do you mean?” Evan’s voice was louder still “You hang out with your ex and I’m the problem?”

“No, the problem is you being all pissy about something that isn't really a big issue. Jake and I...” Stella sighed, “We have history, a lot of history. Even before we dated we were friends and it's been so shit recently when we haven't been talking and...” her voice was gathering in speed and Jensen could tell she was starting to get upset. He had heard it and seen it a thousand times before.

“And why do you think that is, Stel?” Evan’s voice was now quiet, but the tone was cold and threatening, and Jensen took a deep breath. He didn’t like the way this was going. “Come on, you can’t be that oblivious.” Stella didn’t reply, and Evan continued “See, you know I'm right. You were on bad terms because he was a jealous asshole, you said it yourself with the way he behaved when we had our first date in the coffee shop. And everyone knows he was only dating that Britney bint to try and piss you off. Even your own sister said that.”

Jensen could feel himself getting hot with anger at the way the bastard was using Rey against Stella, despite the fact Evan was completely right. As much as Jensen had denied it at the time, that was totally why he ended up with Brit. Call it a rebound, a stubborn attempt to prove to himself he didn’t need Stella, whatever. The core of it was always down to her.

“Huh, he aint actually as stupid as he looks.” Jensen muttered to himself.

“He wasn’t jealous.” Stella responded, her voice quiet “How could he be when he dumped me? Twice.”

At that Jensen bowed her head, the hurt in her voice was evident.

“Who knows what goes through his head or why he did that, I've no idea, but if you think he's over you then you're mistaken. And I don’t like it, Stella, not one bit.” Evan took a deep breath “I think you should stay away from him.”

Jensen felt his mouth drop open a little and he blinked, had he seriously just told her that? He waited with baited breath for Stella’s reply, which came a second or so later, in a tone he knew only too well, she’d had enough.

“You know what, I’m not in the mood for going out tonight.”

“Okay, well, let’s stay in then.” Evan’s tone suddenly flipped to the doting boyfriend again and Jensen frowned once more. This guy was unreal. “I can cook us something”

“Dumb bastard, take the hint.” Jensen grumbled as Stella audibly sighed. He could picture her, running her hand through her hair, pressing the heel of her palm to the space between her eyes.

“I need to get cleaned up and then sort out this mess.” She replied “I think it’s better if you go home.”

“Seriously?” Evan spoke with disbelief “You’re actually telling me to go?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause “Fine.” Evan responded “I’ll leave you to it. You and Jensen can finish whatever it was you were doing.”

“We were making cookies.”

“Whatever, Stella. If you’re more interested in defending him than having dinner with me then, that’s you’re call.”

And then Jensen realised he needed to disappear before Evan came out and found him. He hastily made his way back to his apartment, and had just gotten inside when Stella’s door was wrenched open. So as not to attract attention to himself with the sound of the lock clicking, Jensen didn’t quite close his fully and stayed waiting for Evan to disappear. To Jensen’s horror he paused, looking directly at his door, before he looked back at Stella’s and then made his way to the elevator. After what seemed like an age it arrived and he stepped into it, the door pinging shut behind him.

Jensen felt bad, he really did. He hadn’t wanted Stella to be upset. But more over he felt uneasy. The way Evan had spoken to her, and directed the blame straight back onto her and then told her to stay away from him was manipulative, controlling almost.

And he didn’t like it one bit.

****

“Jensen, what’s with you man?” Roque asked, placing his empty bottle on the table. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-annoying tonight.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “Nothing, I’m fine.”

He felt Pooch’s eyes on him and purposely ignored him, looking around the bar at anything and everything. His eyes fell momentarily on a table of girls some four or so down from theirs one of them bore a fleeting resemblance to Stella actually and he hastily looked away, glancing down at his beer. He necked the rest and set the empty bottle down.

“My round.” Pooch nodded as he stood up, his hand falling onto Jensen’s shoulder “Give me a hand man?”

“Sure.” Jake stood up and followed him to the bar, passing the table of girls as they went.

“The brunette is giving you the eye.” Pooch nudged him. Jensen looked at him.

“What?”

“Okay, out with it.” Pooch demanded as they reached the bar “What’s wrong Jensen, and don’t tell me everything is fine coz I know you, and you’re not being you. You’ve been positively pleasant all evening and now when some chick is giving you the eye you don’t even notice?”

Jensen sighed, “I’m just a bit worried about Stel, man”

“Arty?” Pooch frowned, “What’s wrong with her? Is she ok? I though Evan was coming over to hers tonight?”

“He did. They had an argument, he left.” Jensen shrugged.

“They had an argum-wait? How do you know? Did she tell you? Coz I thought you weren’t on particularly good terms.”

“We sorted stuff out.” Jensen shook his head

“You were listening weren’t you?” Pooch rolled his eyes.

“That’s not the point.” Jensen shook his head and Pooch groaned having been given all the confirmation he needed “The point is what he said. And how he said it. He was angry, Pooch.”

“Everyone gets angry when they argue.”

“Yeah but he…I dunno, I don’t trust him.”

“Oh come on Jensen. Stop it. Enough with that shit. Stel is with him and she’s happy, face it.”

“He told her that he thinks she should stay away from me.” Jensen looked at Pooch. “Does that not strike you as, well, controlling?”

Pooch looked at Jensen and could see on his face that he was genuinely concerned.

“Ok, start from the top.” Pooch instructed, so Jensen did, explaining and Pooch took a deep breath “So now you’re worried he could be manipulating her?”

“I'm worried he’s not everything he’s cracked up to be.” Jensen replied after a short pause “And that she could end up hurt. And I don’t mean merely emotionally.”

“Woah, man that’s…that’s a big leap.” Pooch looked at him, before he turned to the bar tender and ordered their round, before looking back at him. “From being a little narky and, ok, possibly maybe slightly overbearing to being a fuckin’ woman beater.”

“Maybe.” Jensen sighed, “But isn’t it always the one’s you don’t expect to do it that do?”

At that Pooch was forced to accept Jensen made a good point and he bit his lip, cocking his head to once side. “Ok, suppose you heard right and the guy’s dodgy so to speak. What you wanna do about it?”

“I suppose I could do some digging.” Jensen mused “See if I can find any of his old girlfriends out there, see what they have to say.”

“Oh god, I don’t think I like where this is going.” Pooch groaned.

Jensen sighed, “I honestly have no idea Pooch. My gut was to tell Stella that I was concerned but knowing her she'll just accuse me of being a dick and it would just make it look like he was right about me.”

“Which he is.” Pooch snorted “You are jealous.”

“Yeah, well that's maybe but I'm being serious here Pooch. I don't trust the guy, and if she ends up hurt when I could have done something to stop it I'll never forgive myself.”

Pooch bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Jensen, he could see the worry etched into every line on his friend’s face. With a loud sigh he shook his head, “Listen man, whatever you want to do I have your back. Wanna go all CSI on the guy? Then count me in. But do you and the rest of us for that matter a favour and admit to your feelings for her once and for all and do something about it or leave her be.”

Jensen snorted “You been talking to Clay, Pooch?”

“What? No.” Pooch handed over his card to pay for the round. “Why would you think that?”

“He just said something similar at New Years. That's all.” Jensen took a deep breath “This would never have happened if I hadn't been such an asshole.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Not helping Pooch.”

“Listen man, we don’t need to talk to one another to see you have strong feelings for her. We all know that and we all have been putting up with your stupid ass decisions.”

“Still not helping Pooch.”

“Ok Jensen.” Pooch shrugged, taking his card back off the man behind the bar with a thanks. “You could always try actually talking to him? You never know, he might be genuinely-“

“Are you nuts? The guy hates me!” Jensen practically exploded “And suppose I am right, which I may not be, I know, it happens occasionally.” He shrugged as Pooch rolled his eyes “Not only do I tip him off I’m onto him, he’ll rush to tell Stel as soon as I turn my back. Make it seem I’m harassing him.”

“So instead you wanna track his old girlfriend’s down and go poking into his past?”

Jake flashed his signature grin.

“Coz thats not harassing him. At all.” Pooch rolled his eyes.

“It’s not if he doesn’t know I’m harassing him.” Jake shrugged and Pooch let out an exasperated moan of a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I already told you Jensen. Whatever you want man. Just...oh, I dunno, try not to fuck it up with your usual chaotic dumbassery.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Jensen shrugged as he picked up 2 of the bottles from the bar.

“Sure you don’t.”

******

Two more beers later and Jensen called it a night and headed home, he wasn’t in the mood all things considered. Kicking off his sneakers he plopped down on the couch and reached for the remote, flipping through the channels. But it was no good, he couldn’t concentrate. His mind was working overtime as he was trying to figure out what exactly he was going to do. It was frustrating, because normally he’d just talk to Stella, they never had secrets but this was completely out of the question, and that frustrated the fuck out of him.

His rambling thoughts were interrupted by a knock on his door. Frowning, because that meant that either someone had gotten into the building or it was a resident, he stood up and made his way over to the door. He pulled it open and gave a little blink as he saw Stella stood there in a large, oversized sweater, leggings and thick socks, her hair pulled on top of her head in a messy bun, a batch of cookies in her hands.

“Oh, hey Stel.” He said, surprise evident in his voice “Come on in.”

She smiled as she stepped into his flat. “I thought you’d be out all night because Pooch said you were all out for drinks this evening. But I heard you come in so I came to bring you some cookies. After all you helped me with them, well, sort of.”

“Thanks Sel.” He smiled, genuinely as he took them from her “You want a drink or…”

“No, I’m good thanks.”

“Ok, well, go through, be with you in a second. I’ll just put these bad boys away.”

She nodded and turned, heading towards the lounge as Jensen made his way quickly into the kitchen and deposited the cookies in the tin, grabbing one as he did so. God they tasted just as good as they always did. He grabbed the empty container and headed into the lounge where Stella was sat on the couch and she smiled as he handed it to her.

“You ok?” he asked and she looked at him, nodding but Jensen could tell she wasn’t so he decided to call her out, see if she’d open up to him.

“You know, I've known you too long. You can't lie to me.”

She sighed.

“What’s bothering you, Stel?” he pressed as he sat next to her keeping a respectful distance of one seat cushion between them.

“Me and Ev, we err...had an argument before. Kind of a big one”

“How big?” Jensen asked, all the time knowing he had to play it cool or she would know he overheard.

“I… “ she fiddled with the sleeves of her sweater a little before she snorted “I sent him home big”

“Can I ask what you argued about? I mean if you sent him home it must have been pretty serious.”

Stella looked at him, clearly debating whether or not to tell him and then she sighed “He wanted to go out, I didn't. It spiralled from there.”

Jake took a deep breath as Stella looked at him having just told him a barefaced lie. What killed him the most was he knew she was doing it to spare his feelings, and he didn’t think he’d ever wanted to kiss her more. But he couldn’t, so instead he gave her a small nod and what he hoped was a sympathetic smile.

“Look, I'm sorry if any of it was my fault. And I'm sure you'll sort it out.”

“Yeah, I guess. In any case thanks for listening.”

Jake laughed “That it, we done?”

“Not much else to tell you. We fought, and maybe I overreacted to something he said. It’s just...” she studied his face and Jensen got the impression she was searching for some indication Evan was right about him being jealous. He fought so hard not to give her any, and in the end she shrugged “It doesn’t matter, it’s no big deal.”

“Big enough to make you upset though.”

“Well, it’s the first argument we’ve had.”

“Well you can drown your sorrows in pumpkin flavoured gin.” Jensen sniffed and at that she grimaced.

“Between you and me, I tried it before. It’s fucking awful.”

Jake laughed, “Then I guess Evan was right and you do taste better.”

“Jake!” Stella scoffed, slapping his arm.

“What? It was a compliment!”

“You're gross”

“Yeah but…”he smirked “…made you smile”

“Yeah, you do.” She looked at him, “I mean did. You know, just then…”

“I know.”

Stella gave him another soft smile “Thanks again, I should…” she gestured to the door with her head and Jake nodded.

“Walk you home?”

“I live across the hall.” She scoffed as she stood up

“Yeah but…” Jensen breathed in through his teeth as he also rose from his seat “Some dodgy people in this building Stel”

“Yeah, you're one of em.”

“Hey, you could be attacked by Mrs. Hunter’s Cat. You know it went for my ankle yesterday?” He looked at her seriously. “Like I said, snide little bastards. Cats are not to be trusted.”

“Alright then badass, you better see me safe across the hall.” She chuckled.

Jake followed her to the door where she turned and he wrapped his arms around her, giving her a soft hug. Pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of her head he stepped back and looked at her.

“You know where I am if you need me, don’t you?”

She nodded “Thanks. Night Jakey.”

“Night Stel.”

He watched her cross the hall, and when she walked inside she gave him a last smile before she shut the door.

Jensen exhaled loudly, before he turned and headed back into his own apartment, the door clicking behind him.

*****

Jensen didn’t sleep particularly well that night. His worries and concerns about Stella kept running through his mind and at six am he gave up, hauling himself out of bed for a run. On his way back he stopped by the bakery on the corner of the street to grab himself a croissant and a coffee and headed back to the condo, munching his breakfast. As he walked across the parking lot he spotted Evan’s car was parked outside the main door, the man himself sat inside, waiting.

And then all logic flew from Jensen’s mind. Fuck treading softly.

He stalked over and round to the passenger side, yanking it open and sinking into the seat besides Evan as the man looked at him, arching an eyebrow.

“S’up Agent E.” he smiled at him, taking another bite of his croissant. “You waiting for Stel?”

“Why else would I be here?”

Jensen shrugged “Maybe you like parking lots.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m waiting for Stella.”

“Why not just use your spare key?” Jensen asked, taking a loud slurp of his coffee before he looked at Evan. “Wait, more to the point, why are you not up there? Did you not stay?” The nerve in Evan’s jaw twitched and Jensen grinned. “You guys aint had a fight have you?” When the agent didn’t reply Jake took a bite of his croissant. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“What do you want, Jensen?” Evan looked at him, his features dark and Jake knew the time for joking was done. He took a deep breath and shrugged.

“Honestly? For you to fuck off.”

“Oh I bet you do.” Evan narrowed his eyes, his voice low and Jensen snorted.

“Not much of a bet, I just admitted it but whatever.”

“Well unlucky for you I’m not going anywhere.”

“For now.” Jensen shrugged “She’ll see through you at some point.”

“Face it Jensen, you fucked up.” Evan shook his head “Now I’m warning you, stay away from her, and me, and leave us alone.”

Jensen took a deep breath. “Ok, I was trying to be polite but I’ll get straight to the point.”

“Please do.” Evan’s voice was loaded with sarcasm.

“I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you.” Jensen stated and Evan gave a huge guffaw of laughter, Jensen merely shook his head “Yeah, you might laugh but I swear to God you hurt her and I will fucking kill you slowly and painfully.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Evan asked.

“Yes.” Jensen said simply “You forget, I’m a lethal trained killing machine.” He shrugged “And then there’s Clay, and Roque, and Pooch and Cougs…you kick one of us, we all shout ouch, you get my drift.”

He saw a flicker of something that might have been concern on Evan’s faced but no sooner had he spotted it, it was gone and the Agent simply swallowed and fixed Jensen with a glare.

“What makes you so sure I’m going to hurt her?”

“Because when I mentioned it before, instead of protesting that you wouldn’t, you simply turned it back to being about you.” Jensen shrugged “Now if someone had said that to me, I’d be doing everything I could to try and convince them they were wrong.”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you.” Evan snorted, shaking his head.

“No, you don’t” Jake shrugged “But you will answer to me if you do hurt her, like I said, I’m watching you shithead.”

“You know, when Stella hears you’ve been threatening me…”

“We both know you’re not going to tell her.” Jake shook his head “I mean you’ve already argued once. And I’d lay odds on that being about me. So, are you really gonna push it again when you’re hanging on by a thread? Don’t think so buddy.”

He took another obnoxiously loud slurp of his coffee and there was a pause before Evan exploded. “Ok, I’ve had enough of this, get out of my fucking car!”

“Gladly.” Jensen nodded, scrunching up the wrapper his croissant had been in. He tossed it into the foot-well and looked at it for a second before he shrugged “This car is full of garbage anyway.” And with that he climbed out headed inside, not bothering to look back.

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen #jake jensen x ofc #the losers #the losers fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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uwua3 · 4 years

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Hello! I'm a new follower and I just love your writing so far!! You're really good at depicting The Whole Scene™ so you made me love my favs even more 😳 It's like my heart melts when I get to the extra soft parts 💖 If it's alright, may I request some fluffy hcs of Banri and/or Juza with a soft/baby-ish s/o who likes cute things? Or in general an s/o who's kind of opposite to either of them 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you! 💞

hi!!! welcome to my writing blog~ :D i’m so happy you said that 🥺 (i appreciate the trademark no Suing in this household) i’m so glad when it gets soft it makes your heart go 💕💞💓💗💖💘💝 always feel like that!!! i’d be more than honored to baby the two tough boys of autumn~ they are secretly Baby no i do not take criticism but you’re welcome!!!

summary: this is the one time major misunderstandings work out for the best

warnings: swearing

author’s note: hello, everyone~ it’s been 4 days since i last posted a fic TT i’m so sorry!!! i hope this makes up for the absence~ it’s a bit long! please love banri and juza with all your heart ♡ fair warning, i design both readers to have dresses on but everything else is gender–neutral :D

word count: 6,482 (total) — 3,532 (banri), 2,950 (juza)

music: liar liar – oh my girl (banri), just right – got7 (juza)

sugar, spice, and everything nice!

🍁🥇 settsu banri

banri was thrifting and saw the most god–awful, terrible piece of clothing he had ever had the misfortune of seeing in his life

it was a bublegum pink sailor uniform esque shirt, embellished with the most pastel ribbons and lacy accessories ever, and was decorated to put harajuku to shame

“who the hell would want to buy this shit?” banri muttered to himself, holding it up to grimance at the girly details that hang from the ugliest shirt he had ever came across. before he could put it back to hide amongst the clothing rack, a gentle, barely noticeable tap on his shoulder made banri turn his head with a glare

“what—” banri’s eyes widened, his jaw slightly dropping. oh my god, if there was a human embodiment of the fucking shirt he was holding, you would literally be it

you were nervously smiling at him, clad in a pastel pink lolita–styled dress, with even more bows at the corset bodice and ruffles at your poofy skirt. you had the largest singular lace bonnet in your curled hair and adorned the biggest, widest circular glasses (they had to be fake). you clasped your hands together with a high–pitched laugh, banri wanted to disappear and never come back to the store again

how could people like you just exist? you walked around like a doll everyday and for what? banri looked down at his clothing for a second, all black again. maybe, he shouldn’t be talking if he was like death everyday...

“sorry~ but are you interested in that shirt?” you asked cutely, batting your eyelashes as you looked up at banri. he blinked, not realizing he was still holding the fashion industry’s worst abonimation as he quickly tossed it towards you, not bothering to check if you even caught it

“no, bye.” banri forced out, moving from the aisle to leave the godforsaken pastels and bright colors. it was all giving him a headache, there was no way this color spectrum ever existed to someone and they liked it. everybody move over because banri was gonna puke

banri flipped through more clothes, pushing through the racks with ease, trying to push the mental image of pink out of his mind until something landed on his head

quickly pulling it off with a scowl, banri deadpanned at the shirt. pink, sailor uniform, ugly ribbons and bows, check. it was that shirt again... what the—

you stood next to him, with the most angelic smile possible despite the passive aggressive look in your eyes. banri noticed your hair was slightly messed up, that he must’ve done something. he never thought he’d fight a pastel lolita in the middle of one of his favorite thrift stores, but here he was, glaring down at you like it was a big deal

“what do you want?!” banri cursed, about to throw the shirt back to you before you forced it in his hands, surprising him with the amount of force your short self managed to produce. you smiled even bigger, and banri suddenly knew he couldn’t cause a scene because no one believe him if you started a fight

“let me pick your clothes!” you offered, yet there was no room for disagreement. oh god, this was revenge for screwing up your look, wasn’t it? banri blanked again, about to tell you to fuck off before he called security (yeah, security on the most non–threatening person here), before you shoved another outfit into his arms

“go change! i want to see you in it!” you insisted, banri’s eye twitched as he took in the colors. all various shades of pink... you did know there were other colors right?

maybe it was because he knew you would start a scene if he didn’t try, but banri mumbled something about annoying people and their loud fashion sense before slipping into a dressing room. you clapped when banri begrudgingly agreed to it, pissing him off even more

(you didn’t know why you were forcing this stranger to be pastel for once. one look at his all–black attire and you felt a part of your soul die for a second)

when you heard the most dragged–out, emphasized swear behind the door, you knew you had to see it

“are you okay in there~?” you asked, waiting patiently outside with a devious smile. revenge was sweet, you almost forgot about how that shirt had messed up your hairstyle for the day

(banri suddenly regretted ever messing with you, you were the devil in pink)

“i know we just met, but fuck you.” banri deadpanned, stepping out from behind the curtain with the resignation of a quitter. you threw your hands over your mouth, stifling your snickers as you observed him top to bottom, wondering how you even fathomed such a creation

banri stood before you in the same sailor shirt, ribbons and bows alike, that somehow fit him. you had given him basic pink shorts that clased with his giant black boots (he made a stomping sound whenever he walked)

“i hate this, i am never wearing this again.” banri admitted without difficulty, expecting you to go away so he could shop in peace but you giggled, nodding in satisfaction at your mistake. he couldn’t believe it, he was embarrassing himself and sacrificing his dignity just because some moral conscious was aware he probably ruined part of your fit

“i’ll buy it for you!” you said and banri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing with so much exhaustion even though it was the afternoon. is this how sakyo felt dealing with three kids all day? banri was this close to calling him up just to apologize for all the batshit crazy things he’s done

“no.” banri stated, not offering an explanation before turning around, about to head back into the dressing room before you stopped him, pouting your lips with a stubborn look

“come on! why not? i’ll do anything!” you pleaded, giving him your biggest puppy dog eyes as you kept repeating “please~” loudly. banri was about to tell you off before he noticed the store customers glancing at the odd duo, groaning before he rubbed his face

“anything?” banri asked, realizing his mischevious smirk was back on his face as you narrowed your eyes at him, wondering what the hell he was planning

when you hesitantly nodded, banri wolfishly grinned as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms and looking down at you (you would’ve burst into laughter at how banri tried to look intimidating in pink if you weren’t too plagued by your surprise at his sudden attitude change)

“okay, let me pick your next outfit.” banri said and you winced at the memory of his previous outfit, considering your options before shaking his hand, knowing whatever was about to happen would be one for your social media

it only took about two hours before you actually agreed to try anything on banri picked. it was all animal print, mismatched neon colors, and flannel. you refused every single time he held anything up, bruising banri’s ego even further

“jesus, you have no taste.” banri complained, just wanting to see the most pastel person he’s seen wear something normal for once. you two bickered easily, fighting like there was no tomorrow and warranting nervous glances from the store employees (who nearly alerted security when they saw you almost knock over a whole display chasing after banri)

finally, banri chose something you wouldn’t be caught dead in. it was close to what he had before, a black turtleneck with a silver–zip bomber jacket. he was nice enough to choose a black pleated skirt for you to wear with black oxford that had 3d white daisies

you actually liked it, believe it or not

in return, you adjusted your pick for him (much to banri’s relief when he muttered “thank god” as you put the pink sailor shirt back). you adjusted the theme to be a mixture of black & pink, picking a pink sweater with a black stitched heart surrounded by lace that read “i’ll kill you” and a pink button down underneath. you let him wear basic black pants (just so he wouldn’t have actually killed you) and found the cutest pink sneakers with black shoelaces!

by the time both of you finished, banri didn’t seem as mad and actually nodded at your choices

“not bad, punk.” banri joked as you swatted at his arm, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at your antics. you two made your way into opposite changing rooms and went out at the same time, staring at each other wide–eyed for about three seconds before banri pushed his finger in the center of your forehead with a smirk

“see! you don’t look as bad now.” banri winked as you nearly kicked him, rubbing your forehead with a frown. you two fought all the way to the cash register, paying for each other’s new outfits as you wore them out the door, holding your originals in a bag

“happy now? gotta go or else my friends are gonna kill me.” banri rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pant pockets as he was about to go the opposite way. you grabbed his sleeve, impatiently shoving your phone in his face as he adjusted to seeing his own pissed off expression stare back at him

“you have to take a picture with me!” you insisted, your bubbly demeanor really not fitting your “goth” approach (courtesy of banri, of course)

banri glared, knowing this wasn’t apart of the deal before you feigned sadness, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked around like it was really unfortunate

“oh... are you not photogenic? that’s too bad...” you mocked him, pretending to not notice banri’s fists clench as he furrowed his eyebrows. of course he was good at taking photos! he’d show you, alright

“give me your phone.” banri demanded, taking it without a warning and holding it at a distance with an effortlessly cool pose, doing his usual smirk with a casual peace sign

“say ‘worst day ever’.” banri snapped the picture when you got into frame, putting your chin on his shoulder due to your height difference as you smiled cutely, contrasting his entire vibe

when you actually went through the selfies, they were perfect. damn it! of course he was good at everything, including somehow making black look good on you and be the ultimate photographer

“let me tag you, these are actually...” you were about to say something else until you noticed he was walking away, not bothering to say goodbye as you called his name

“yo, banri! what’s your instagram handle?” you yelled, holding your phone up. banri didn’t even look behind him, just throwing up a single middle finger towards you as he turned the corner. what a typical teenage boy

it was so like him, you didn’t even bother chasing after banri as you posted the set of photos you took with him with the caption “worst day ever with this emo punk, someone find him for me”

when banri made it the dorms, he took out his phone for the first time in forever and felt the vibrations. he never got this many notifications, itaru was probably telling him to get online or he’d beat his ass—oh

oh, you didn’t

kazunari (of course it was him) had tagged him in a familiar picture, with too many emoticons and exclamation points to begin with. banri scrolled through the comments, all complimenting his cool face despite being in pink (banri already knew that) and... wait... shipping you two?!

you two were completely different! if you two stood next to each other, you’d be two opposite ends of any spectrum possible. yet, banri couldn’t help but read all the comments on your post, saying how you two looked good together

banri zoomed in on the photo and moved to your face and huh... maybe they were onto something...

banri clicked on your profile and as expected, it was all soft like sanrio personally made it. you were an angel in each of your pictures, posing with stuffed animals, pastel café sweets, and anything that looked like it came out of a kid’s show. banri was scrolling mindlessly, screenshotting some as he slouched on the sofa, exhaling sharply through his nose at some childish pun you had in your captions

when banri was near the beginning of your feed, it had happened. he accidentally tapped too fast (blame it on his gamer hands), liking your picture from years ago

banri paused. after a minute, banri slowly unliked your picture, shut the app, and threw his phone across the room. it landed on the other couch with a thump as banri slid down the seat with the loudest groan ever, covering his face as he refrained from screaming

that’s what he got for stalking your entire fashion page despite hating your style

the damage had been done. you followed him and instantly dm–ed him with the full, unedited selfies of you two

(banri didn’t follow back until like, a month later for no reason other than he was petty)

banri became your immediate go–to fashion guru, believe it or not. moving past his horrific sense of animal print, he actually wasn’t that bad at picking clothes (banri said it was something about growing up with an older sister)

whenever you needed advice on an outfit, you sent him a text and got a response within minutes (the more he hated it, the more you wore it). any time you went to another up and coming clothing store, he was by your side (unwillingly holding your bags with multiple threats). banri even took your pics for your page, pretending like it was a huge nuisance whenever you asked anyone to take a photo (they always came out awful and he claimed he was tired of hearing you whine 24/7)

you and banri’s interest in fashion was the foundation of a competitive and sarcastic friendship that formed between you two. you exaggerated your pink clothes by making sure to be as pastel as possible whenever you hung out with him, and banri made a point to be all–black and dark down to his silver earrings despite the weather

you posted him more and more on your socials despite his style clashing with your feed. your followers seemed to love him, hyping up his coolness even if you two bullied each other in the comments like an old married couple. it was becoming expected to see banri’s account tagged every time you gave him credit for the post (he always used it against you just to make you mad)

over time, when banri went to see you, he didn’t insult your style anymore even if he tried to (his insults were even half–assed). he took your bags on his own accord and acted like they didn’t weigh a thing. he started taking more photos of you on his own phone, like it wasn’t a big deal he had shocks of pastel throughout his rather dark camera roll

banri didn’t know when it happened, but the moment he looked at the pink sweater you bought him the first time he met you and didn’t react, he knew

oh shit, he didn’t hate pink (or you) anymore. he might have even... liked it

(he might have even liked you)

it was nearly closing time, the employee about to close up shop before banri was seen sprinting towards them, barely out of breath as he skidded to a stop near the concerned worker (understandably so, since it was dark and a whole teenager nearly trampled them)

“oh? banri? what are you doing so late?” the employee recognized the regular customer and banri almost threw up at what he was about to request. he took a moment to compose himself before banri sighed, gesturing towards inside the store

“you remember that really ugly pink sailor shirt that is probably a fashion crime?” banri asked and it didn’t take long before the worker nodded, even grimancing at the memory of such a loud shirt

“yes, no one is really willing to buy it—” the employee was interrupted by a wad of money from inside banri’s wallet as he went through it, wincing at his own purchase that he clearly didn’t want

“i’ll take it. keep the change.” banri went home that day with the same pink shirt he swore he would never wear again

the next day, banri was dressed and the whole dorm went silent. no one dared breathe a word, and banri rolled his eyes, crossing his arms

“what’s wrong? never seen a man wear pink before?” banri raised his eyebrows, casually getting ready to go see you with his backpack strapped. once again, everyone was staring at him (when he left the dorms, the room burst into hysterical laughter)

when you saw banri in that shirt, you suddenly knew. it was as if his behavior made sense, this is way of telling you he didn’t hate you as much as he acted to

as he came up to you pretending like he was still cool in the most pastel pink shirt ever, you couldn’t help but grab him by the sailor collar and give him something long overdue

(the whole mankai company spammed your page with fairy cyberbully comments and likes when you posted a picture of banri in the sailor shirt with the caption: “best boyfriend ever”)

(you ended up keeping the sailor shirt, banri claimed it suited you a lot more than it did for him) (damn, not even one insult about how ugly it was when you expressed how much you loved it)

ever since, your feed became more of punk pastel than anything. anything you wore, banri most likely had in black. you two even shared jewelery and banri often mixed up your earrings with his own (you loved his piercings and often bought the most intricate ear cuffs just to see them on him)

despite your opposite styles, you guys actually shared many of your items together like clothes, accessories like bucket hats and backpacks, even make up! (it took quite some time before banri accepted you painting his nails though, at first it was black, now he allows the occassional pink middle finger if you ask)

(banri liked it the most when you two had matching nails, it was just satisfying to see when holding hands)

you guys were also that gamer couple. you know what i’m talking about, if you guys had a gaming room together, half the room would be pastel pink and his set up was a basic all black

(you two had matching cat headphone sets, yours obviously the pink ones and banri pretended to hate his own pair of ears)

(they really weren’t that bad, he even began wearing it around his boys despite the jokes)

(“shut up, bastard! my partner likes them!”)

as expected, you two got stares every time you went out in public. while you were bright and happy from the anime sparkles around you to your adorable, enthusiatic energy, banri was always by you looming over everyone with a sharp glare and even more aggressive tongue

but this was unexpected: you had banri whipped. wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it

(he could go one moment cursing someone out, threatening a fight before he talked to you with a quieter, more relaxed tone. of course he could start shit with you, but for some reason, his voice and demeanor automatically became nicer when he saw you)

(this meant he could never stay mad at you for too long)

an example of banri being absolutely soft for you would be the time you were about to dye your hair and he wanted in

while he was helping you equally do the style and making sure it fit your liking, you giggled at the sight of your boyfriend in the mirror, focusing intently on your hair and the two seperate dyes

“ri, have you ever thought of black hair?” you asked nonchalantly as banri brushed the dye on your hair, giving him a moment to think as he shrugged

“eh, i already dye my hair. never thought about that color.” banri responded, already too busy making sure your hair was completely covered (he was a good hair stylist even if he had never done it before)

“what do you think about matching hairstyles?”

it felt like deja vu. when banri walked into the dorms again, everyone was staring at him. except this time, it wasn’t his sweater (he was back to all–black this time), but his head

oh my god, his hair. his vibrant, half–pink and half–black hair now

“you like that person so much! you dyed your hair that shade of pink?!” practically everyone in mankai was aware banri was whipped for his one and only angel, even if it looked like he came out of hell himself just to be with you

whenever banri saw pink now, he didn’t hate it anymore, and he especially didn’t hate you

🍁🍰 hyodo juza

when juza saw you, he felt like he was on a sugar rush from how cute you were

it was another day helping the director with her grocery shopping and an extra amount of time allowed the two to visit the new bakery that opened downtown

while izumi was making small talk with the server, juza awkwardly hung behind her as he tried to not make it obvious he just wanted to eat every single dessert in the family business

as he was counting the tiles on the floor (how did they design them to look like it was made out of candy?!), a swish of a puffy skirt moved past his line of sight as juza glanced up, feeling like he had downed a whole box of those valentine’s candy hearts at once

you were a waitress, happily bringing customer orders to their tables with the cutest smile ever. you wore a mint green & brown uniform with a big bow at your dress shirt collar, floating around like a fairy with a trey at your hand and gracefully taking requests in the other. if “you are what you eat” was true, you would’ve only ate sweet foods because you were that adorable

then, juza noticed you had some really nice hair clips and thought they were super cute

when you looked up from writing something on your notepad (he noticed it was really elegant cursive), you caught his eye and it was like love at first sight for juza

for you, not so much

you had made eye contact with the most intimidating, tallest boy in the entire bakery. you nervously smiled, waving before hurrying into the kitchen, feeling his stare on your back as you hid in the break room with a sigh of relief

just your luck! you had met some guy who probably didn’t even like sweets, he looked like he wanted to fight you or something! why was he staring at you like that? you anxiously peeked your head from the door frame and went back immediately when you noticed he was looking for you

oh no, was some thug trying to fight you? in a bakery?

when izumi finished up her conversation and bought a speciality cake to go, juza obediently followed her outside as he glanced back behind the counter, trying to spot your unique hair accessories again

as the bell above his head rung, he knew he had to come back to see you and find out where you bought those dessert–themed clips

at first, it began with casual visits, pretending to survey the area after explaining his association with mankai in the most bare minimum way possible. you didn’t struggle convincing someone else to cover your shift quickly when you noticed the scary tall guy up front. then, it became ordering random things to go and hoping he’d at least see you to ask a simple question. you did everything to hide behind tables, hoping you wouldn’t have to confront the gangster

(“he’s back again?! how many more desserts can he order?” you whined, poking your eyes over the front desk to see his frame entering past the window)

for some reason, juza couldn’t stop thinking of your hair clips. they were sweets, for goodness sake! nothing had made him happier, they were so tiny and adorable, they brought him instant serotonin even if he had some tough image

(maybe you were also super cute too, and he just needed an excuse to see you)

after weeks or so of failed attempts to catch you working, juza began sitting down and eating in the bakery, much to your misfortune

“how can i avoid him now if he spends a hour here every afternoon?!” you panicked even though juza’s back was turned to you. he happily ate his food, getting distracted by the quality of the sweets to notice you were basically staring at him

“are you sure he wants something from you? he comes here every day, he seems like a nice boy.” the owner vouched in his favor after talking to the offstandish teen at the register. sure, he was a bit rough around the edges, but he was much more respectful than any of the rotten kids who came in the shop!

ugh! the baker didn’t get it, there was no way someone like that didn’t want to start something with you!

out in the dining area, it took all the sugar in his body to actually make juza ask for a very specific server in detail. when someone had brought him his strawberry milk, juza cleared his throat with an awkward attempt at a smile (it looked more like a grimance than anything)

“uh... do you know if, a server with candy hair pins is here?” juza murmured, looking down at the table with an embarrassed blush as the waiter didn’t think anything of it, calling your name without another warning. you squeaked, dropping behind the counter as juza tilted his head in confusion

(why were you hiding? was there something wrong? what happened? juza thought, unaware he was actually the problem)

when you heard a series of footsteps stop near you, you hesitantly looked up from your crouching position and saw juza staring down at you with a concerned expression. his eyebrows were furrowed and he had his hand out

you took his hand and closed your eyes, fearing for your life. was he gonna yank you to your feet? push you over? trip you so you’d fall for real? you weren’t ready for a fight!

yet, none of that happened. juza gently lifted you up and made sure you were fine by observing your outfit to see if anything was wrinkled, muttering something about being careful and staying safe

you blinked, trying to process how incredibly wrong you were. juza was perhaps the nicest customer you had met in your entire career as a server, even taking the time to actually confirm you were okay with no ill intentions whatsoever

(suddenly, you remembered all the times you actively avoided juza and felt the guilt as he nodded at you, unintentionally lowering his height so he’d seem more approachable)

“sorry to bother you, but uh...” juza trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase his next sentence. before you could respond, his hand landed on your hair and a beat of silence passed between you two

“cute.” juza forced out, and wanted to slap himself. cute?! no, say cute hair clips, ask where you got them! juza was internally panicking and you were doing the same as you looked up at him with wide eyes

it was so awkward and humiliating, juza couldn’t pull his hand away because his whole body was on shutdown. oh god, what could he do now? this was possibly the worst first impression in human history

“i’m cute?” you warily asked, staring at him with a slightly amused expression as juza blanked. you felt his hand subtly shake as it was your turn to be concerned over how red his face was

“no—i mean, yes, but, not like that! i mean...” juza finally lifted his fingers to poke at your hair decorations and you let out a sound of understanding, pointing at your own clips

“oh? you mean these?” you asked and juza nodded, like he was extremely thankful you understood him. he pushed his hands behind his back, nervously leaning back and forth on his feet as he looked away like the cupcake display was the most interesting thing in the world (it probably was)

“where did you, uh, get them?” juza quietly questioned and you giggled, patting them proudly as you stood a little bit taller from the unintentional praise

“i made them! thank you for asking!” you smiled, about to move away before juza accidentally held onto your arm, releasing his hold when he saw your shock. he definitely needed to learn how to be more socially acceptable one of these days or else he was gonna get in big trouble

“can i commission you?” juza muttered and there began your friendship with the big tough delinquent juza who really adored small, cute things (like yourself!)

any time juza was particularly fascinated with a dessert on display, you would show him a sketch sample of accessories you could make based on his favorites. surprisingly, juza was very comfortable with expressing his love for sugar because you felt the same way!

every day when juza came to visit the bakery, he’d always have something new to say about your homemade accessories and seemed fascinated by your adorable fashion sense

(he had been particularly obsessed with these dangly earrings you made that looked like little dango sticks. it was like a child had been playing with your ears the entire time)

it was about a month later when you made the final designs of the hair clips juza ordered and you knew they were your best work yet

you had multiple favorite desserts and fruits of his molded in clay or shaped in resin on a various sizes of clips and pins. you decorated them with the sole goal in mind to see how pretty they would look against juza’s dark purple hair

this would be the first time you two met out of the bakery, so when juza came and saw you didn’t look any different (hair accessories and all), he thought you were so sweet

juza’s entire face practically lit up when you presented him the clips. foods like ice creams, lollipops, and popsicles were all accessible for him as he struggled to find the words to show his appreciation for your work

you two sat on a bench in the park as juza gently took the clips, turning them carefully (you looked down and almost laughed at how tiny they looked in his hands)

when you asked for a model picture for your business page, juza’s shaky hands were clearly untrained in the art of hair clips as he put one in an awkward position and tried to look up to see what it looked like

“uh... i’m not very good at this.” juza admitted, embarrassed as he stared at his feet. it didn’t take you long to take over, moving closer to giddily pin juza’s hair back

(it was soft, you were almost jealous of how everything about him was the embodiment of “gentle giant”)

“it’s okay! here, let me.” you insisted and juza gratefully passed you your work, staring at everything but you as his cheeks became even redder. you were so close and leaning over him, trying to put them in cute positions as your fingers ran through his hair

(juza felt like the first time he saw you; like he was on a sugar rush as he noticed how nimble your fingers were on him)

when you were done and leaned back with admiration, juza looked at you with a small smile as he reached up to touch the designs you put in his hair, feeling the handmade pins against his calloused fingers

“cute~” you lifted your phone up, about to take a picture. juza didn’t know why, but he covered the camera with his palm as he lowered it, looking at you with the same focus he had everytime he saw you

“you’re cute.” juza froze. oh gosh, did he actually just confess that?! you were surprised, feeling his hand over yours. yet, you didn’t want to pull away. in fact, you wish your phone was out of the way so you could completely hold his hand

“you’re cute, too.” you responded, using your other hand to brush the loose strands of hair back from his face as you smiled

when juza came back to the dorms with the cutest, most pastel, childish hair clips, no one had time to say a word as he ran to his room and threw himself onto his bed. juza rolled onto his back, placing both his hands on his hair and putting them in front of his face as if he couldn’t believe it

he just held your hand! he was your boyfriend now! you liked him even if he was the complete opposite of you! juza silently shoved his pillow over his face, kicking the air uselessly

as your boyfriend, you and juza had much more in common than you thought. juza loved your cute sense of style, always trying his best to compliment your aesthetic by wearing more of your hair accessories and modeling for your page (apparently, he had the perfect hair color for it)

(he even let you put his hair down for certain posts, his usually slicked–back hair laying flat against his forehead as he didn’t look at you, his head turned as he blushed. “it’s not that bad, right?” he’d ask and you always complimented him no matter what)

although juza kept his rather grunge neutral look, he admired the way you were so bright and liked calling you dessert–related endearments just because you were the embodiment of sweets. he 100% thought you were the most adorable thing in his life and had to be made of pure sugar

in order to support your style, juza liked coordinating his clips with yours. he’d text you the night prior just to gain insight on what type of look you were going for and come to your bakery with something similar (even if your coworkers liked poking fun at his serious, stoic face that only changed around you)

he also came in with a new phonecase and you nearly fainted from how cute he was. he had a case that had those little squishes on them, he admitted he liked feeling them whenever he got a little anxious (it was such a cute habit, you had bought him a whole stock and it was like a little kid on christmas morning)

(you also made earrings out of a pair, he would not stop touching them)

whenever he noticed kids staring, juza never failed to advertise your business like his life depended on it. yes, your customer base actually did grow, somehow thanks to your most unlikely model yet

however, juza wasn’t the only one who had adjusted his style, you did too!

you two actually had had matching letterman jackets, yours in pink & white with a “j” in large letters and his black & grey with your first name initial as well. sometimes, you guys even switched just for the fun of it

you even got to wear his usual “10” purple jacket every now and then, even though he never said anything about liking you in his clothes. he’d just casually leave it around your place, acting like you wouldn’t notice the dark outerlayer in your mass of pastels

as you two were dating, juza wanted to be the best boyfriend possible for you as he wondered what to get you for your anniversary coming up. as juza subconsciously rubbed his clips with a thoughtful look, he suddenly had a lightbulb moment

that’s it! he should make you something in return

when you began seeing juza less and less around the bakery, you were nervous as what he was up to. juza barely hid anything from you since he was such a poor liar, so it was clear when he avoided talking about what he did after school now

in reality, juza was becoming frustrated with how big his hands were. every time he tried to make something, he was too forceful and caused the line to snap. the amount of beads he had lost at this point was laughable as juza tried to not knock over the bracelet–making kit on the table

(it took yuki coming by and taking pity on his crouched over form for him to go somewhere, muttering to himself about how he needed this to be perfect or else he’d die)

(juza always had a strong respect for jewelery makers, but it increased much more once he realized how clumsy and small his attenton span was)

just when you thought juza had forgotten your anniversary coming up, he randomly texted you out of no where asking if you were free. you looked at your shift and agreed, knowing you needed a break and not questioning a thing

when you walked out of the bakery, juza was already there with a small bag, his foot tapping against the sidewalk. before you could even ask how he’d been, he shoved it into your hand with an embarrassed blush (he was so nervous, he swore his heart skipped a beat)

“happy anniversary.” juza mumbled when you opened the small mesh, drawstring bag with a gasp. you slowly pulled out the beaded bracelet with a shocked look, seeing multiple silver dessert–themed pieces hang. there were mainly purple and black beads with four white blocks spelling out “juza”

juza showed you his wrist and he was wearing a beaded bracelet in a similar style, except his was your aesthetic with various pastel shades and your name on his string ending with a cute heart

you teared up and juza winced, rubbing the back of his neck as awkwardly looked away

“that bad, huh?” before juza could die of embarrassment, you shook your head and pulled him into a hug, surprising him when you stood on your tippy–toes to give him a kiss on the cheek

“i love it, this is the sweetest gift ever.”

“only for you.”

when juza slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, you knew you were never gonna take it off

who knew the scary, intimidating boy from the bakery was the sweetest person alive?

248 notes · View notes

wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Chapter 5: Bread Cat Power Pack Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: Jake and Stella patch up their friendship, but Evan isn’t particularly happy about it.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.

A/N: We KNOW this is a slow burn but we promise things are going to heat up soon!!!

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 4 Part 2