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thisisthehardestthing · 4 years

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18+ Dark - BNHAREM collab

This is for the BNHAREM server collab! Please see the masterlist HERE

authors note: This is a choose your own adventure style collab. Please go read the amazing intro written by @iwvs-on-ao3 in the masterlist! I hope you enjoy the below x

Warnings: gloryhole, watersports, blowjob

tags: @enjifuckersupreme , @joyousandverywarlike , @linestrider , @pleasantanathema , @present-mel , @elektraeriseros

Above the thrum of the party was an equally dark room, the only light a variety of monitors, most showing a green to signify night vision, some flashing purple, green, blue, beiges, others a fully red glow. Bodies contorted on the monitors, a few were close-up and a few had a birds eye view of the entire room. One in particular, had a fisheye scope, someone was ushered in, head abnormally large, before turning left and right, and the door closed.

A late comer, Endeavor hated tardiness.

He grunted as he adjusted his thin rimmed, black glasses and glanced at the different screens. He gazed, unamused at the varieties of different ways heroes, sidekicks, and, under special supervision, villains, participated in sexual acts. He unmuted one of the screens, screams filled the sound-proofed room and he winced, instantly shutting the sound off once more. He peered at it, making sure it was consensual pain, before unmuting the next one. It was a cacophony of moans, grunts, echoing as though in an opera hall; the orgy was in full swing.

The Number One hero unzipped his expensive black tailored pants, the wool-silk blend pleating fluidly as they were pushed down his thighs, bespoke from Dior Homme. A large palm stroked his cock, hardening quickly to the lewd noises. He focused on a particular pussy, watching someone with a dick too thin to be his pound into whom he assumed to be Mount Lady. Her blonde hair was pulled back as she sucked off some kind of monster cock, a strange shape that leaked cum all over her face, dripping down to the bodies below her. He heard squelching, grunts, slaps against skin, and he closed his eyes for a few moments as he lazily fisted his cock, rolex glinting in the dim light; his goal was not to get off, but rather just to release some pressure, tension, stretch out his pleasure for the duration of the entire night.

It’d been a few years since Endeavor had begun to host these… exclusive gatherings. He never participated, only surveyed. Some sick part of him enjoyed watching, finding pleasure in all the kinks he provided. His eyes darted to other screens, watching a masked man contort in such a way that his back seemed to break to suck himself off, a woman fucked herself on her fingers for an audience, another one taking part in a seemingly endless train, cunt stuffed full of different types of semen. His cock especially twitched when he came across someone getting pissed on, marked in an erasable way, almost cumming in his hand as a loud moan echoed from the orgy screen in combination.

Fuck, he thought as he pulled away from his cock, lifting up the hem of his black cashmere turtleneck—it was dry clean only—to wipe his precum against his lower abdomen, careful not to get any on his branded clothing. He licked the leftover, humming with approval that his new diet plan helped his taste. He tugged the sweater off, revealing the black oiled leather harness underneath, and folded it neatly onto the desk.

Movement in the bottom right screen caught his attention and he saw you, shifting awkwardly in the four by four meter cubicle. You weren’t the usual person for that section, obviously not the regularly hired prostitutes and sex workers; where the hell did they find you? Endeavor grumbled. He’d specifically demanded that there would be no new employees, the roster approved by him alone, not after the press almost got wind of him and what he’d been orchestrating behind the scenes of hero life. The number one hero could not be seen as the head of a lucrative sex society.

Your hands, tiny from the camera angle, drew the outline of the glory hole before settling yourself in front of it on the pillows. The snort that left Endeavor's nose came out harshly, slight flames tickling his upper lip.

Amature, he couldn’t help but think. You’d learn quickly not to sit too close; there’s no telling what might come through that circular cut-out in the wood.

He muted the orgy, unmuting your cubicle and listened in. It was quiet, quieter than the other rooms, and he waited with baited breath for the first of the participants. The glory-hole was one of the more vanilla kinks in the estate, yet it was one of his favorites. Without knowing who was on the other side, he would sometimes try and guess. Your exhale brought him from his distracted musings, the rise and fall of your chest beneath a normal T-shirt seemed so innocent.

You were innocent, he realised with raised eyebrows, and he leant forward in his black office chair. It creaked under his mass, the straps of his harness bit into his shoulders as he readjusted his glasses to see you clearly. You better do a good fucking job, his reputation demanded it.

There was a knock on the wood, the signal that someone was on the other side waiting, and Endeavor watched with an intensity at the way your body flinched at the sound, he even heard a squeak that made his cock twitch. The first genital of the night poked through the hole. You were lucky, he mused, it was a normal dick that curved slightly to the right, normal girth, average length, underwhelming, so he let his eyes wander to the other screens.

He watched a few couples partake in shibari, the tying of intricate knots and designs well underway. The way the ropes twisted and turned had always piqued Endeavors interest, but he knew he was not a patient enough man to take part and would probably leave his partner in pain. A sudden grunt, moan and squeal switched his attention back to you, and now Endeavor was interested. It had barely been three minutes since you began and the guy had already cum?

He watched as you wiped cum off your cheek to shake your hand so that it dripped in a glob to the floor, the way you winced at the taste and finished an entire bottle of water—rookie, will have to piss soon—before setting yourself back up for the next person of the night. This time, however, Endeavor did not take his eyes off you for a second. He had never been more fascinated by someone sucking cock before. For someone that looked so normal, you had a real talent. Your cheeks hollowed just right, your head bobbed with a rhythm that made it impossible to look away from, it had him wondering how you would be with some of the… stranger genitals around, how those pretty lips would look wrapped around his monster of a cock.

Maybe he’ll let you taste it, just maybe. He had never taken part before, but there was something about you that he had to try out for himself. The next guy came in under five minutes again, but this time you swallowed, gagging and dry heaving with your face turned towards the camera.

Fuck, Endeavor thought, his hand fisting his length once more, the tears in your eyes made a fire burn in his chest, internally compared to the flames that danced on his body in his hero suit. You wiped your tears with the bottom of your t-shirt, flashing skin, a bra, lace, before you drank more water. Oh, how interesting, he mused. A lace bra with such unassuming clothes? Endeavor wondered if you’d planned that, just in case someone were to see you without your shirt. He thought about whether it was a matching set.

But his train of thought was interrupted when he saw a flash of light on one of the other monitors. He cursed, swiveling around to peer at it intently, before pressing a button to call in security. There was always some kind of fight that would break out, either if someone’s turn in a train was too long or if it was because someone didn’t consent to a sexual act. That’s the real reason Endeavor was in this room. Sure, he liked to watch, but he had to make sure it was safe, too. It was the secret to his success.

The rest of the night flew by. He watched all the monitors, with his eyes periodically glancing at you. He couldn’t believe the desire that sparked in his gut from seeing such a simple act. Then, burning jealousy, raging from out of the blue, when a few heroes—whom he’d keep unnamed—entered the cubicle to fuck you. He saw your cries, both in pleasure and pain, but you never once said ‘no,’ so he didn’t intervene. Endeavor could keep his emotions in check, no matter how badly he wanted to throttle Gang Orca for defiling anything but your slutty mouth.

He saw the rooms begin to empty, one by one, as heroes, villains and more trickled out, thoroughly fucked out of their minds, climbing into black chauffeured cars with tinted windows in the early morning, bliss apparent across their faces. There were always a few that stayed behind, those that understood what ‘aftercare’ was, taking time to soothe the elite prostitutes' aches, burns, welts, bruises and muscles. Most of those that took those measures were not who you’d expect; many were villains, underground heroes, those not usually in the spotlight that understood the importance of picking up the pieces after what was dropped, left behind.

Endeavor looked at your monitor again and ran his fingers through his short red hair, contemplating his next move. You were still in the booth even though no one had bothered you for at least an hour. The black lace underwear set you wore was bunched up next to you where it was almost ripped off your needy flesh. He saw inklings of dried cum on your belly, arms, hair through the high definition of the screen. It made him sick. He felt protective over your frail body, and in some twisted way, possessive. Like always, everyone ignored the glory hole at the end of the night. While most whores in the converted cathedral got some kind of soothing treatment, that four by four cubicle was always left in the dark, forgotten. And you were too.

The hulking mass of muscle sighed as he stood up, folded his glasses away and stacked it neatly on top of his sweater. With a final click of a button, he turned your monitor recording off, leaving a black square in its place.

You were exhausted, fucked, sore in all your holes, almost wanting to laugh at yourself and the predicament you were in. You couldn’t believe you did this for money. Was it worth it? No. Well, maybe? Granted, you could’ve refused, you were asked every time before your cunt was stuffed. In the moment, you wanted it. You just wished you weren’t so sore.

How long had it been since you were curled in the corner of the cubicle, knees to your chest? You shifted, feeling the dried cum on your belly crumble and flake, making you wince. Your eyes had gotten used to the perpetual darkness, and you reached for your bunch up underwear, using it to scrub what you could off you. You inadvertently pressed on your bladder, and with wide eyes, realized just how badly you had to go.

Fuck, you scrambled to your heels, feeling for your jeans and t-shirt, and stood to get dressed when the door behind you opened. The golden glow of the hallway filtered in, before a looming shadow darkened the space once more. You had never noticed that the pillows were a plum with golden trim before. You felt frozen to the spot, back to the door, clothing crumpled in your claw-like grip. The voice that washed over you raised goosebumps over your entire body, it vibrated your bones.

“Turn around,” he commanded, and your body twisted automatically, following his wish immediately.

Your mouth dropped open and your head tilted back as you gazed up at the Number One Hero, the orchestrator of the night, Endeavor. Your heart hammered in your chest, an uneven beat, and you brought the fabric in your hands to cover yourself, feeling too naked under his piercing stare. Even in the dark, the blue of his eyes shone as if lit by its own fire.

“Who are you?” Endeavor’s voice was weighted, like it contained all the authority in the world and you stammered out your name, lowering your head in a bow. You did not expect him to repeat it back to you, and your eyes shot up to stare at his shadowed mouth moving to taste the word on his tongue.

“This is your first time here.” Not a question, but you answered.

“Yes, sir.” There was a tug at the corner of his lip.

“For the money?”

“Yes, sir.” A flash of lightning in his eyes.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

You paused, uncertain how to answer, a whirlwind had begun beneath your ribs in response to the storm standing in the doorway. Yet, you sighed, giving in to the truth.

“Yes, I did,” you heard thunder so you added on quickly, “sir.”

“Good.”

The word of approval sent heat licking down your spine, a pooling between your thighs, not for the first time that night, but you hoped it would be that last. Reluctantly, you met his analytical gaze, the shadows of the room swallowing you whole. Your body felt abused, tired, and you still really needed the bathroom. Endeavor grunted, running thick fingers through short hair, it began to flame, before he stepped in and shut the door behind him.

His tall frame overwhelmed the small space of the room, shadows danced in orange with the flicker of his fire. You gulped, smelt the spice of his cologne and absorbed the heat of his skin. Endeavor’s palms enclosed yours, peeling the clothing from your clutches to drop them unceremoniously to the floor. He watched as you shifted, weight transferring from foot to foot, raising an eyebrow.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asks, the sincerity in his voice shocked you, and you froze, shaking your head vigorously.

“No, sir,” then with a whisper, “I need to go to the ladies room.”

The ladies room, he chuckled. So innocent, so polite, how cute, “you can hold it for a while longer.”

It wasn’t a mere suggestion, but a command. Dumbfounded, you nodded. You really couldn’t, but you felt this overwhelming urge to please him, make him praise you for doing a good job. What kind of spell could this man weave? His hands stroked up your arms, around your biceps, to massage the wound muscles of your shoulders. He wondered if your used sex would still be as tight as the knots in your back. His cock twitched at the thought, only one way to find out.

“I’ve been watching you,” he mused, digging his fingers into the soft skin of your neck, massaging the base of your scalp. “All night. It was interesting.”

He chuckled at the little squeak you let out. Rough fingers tilted your chin up as he leant down, lips inches away. You smelt some sake on his breath, but not enough for you to shrink away. Rather, you wanted to lap it up.

“There are not a lot of women that can suck a cock like you.”

His crude words made you groan, and his lips captured yours, pressing into your body hungrily. Your fingers splayed wide on his bare chest, feeling the tickle of chest hair beneath your palms. They were so soft. The heat emitting from his skin warmed your arms, it lulled you into a sense of comfort. You felt bold, reached around, and hooked your thumbs under the back of his leather harness to tug at it. His tongue traced the wrinkle down the middle of your bottom lip, and you parted for him to enter.

He tasted like smoke, a forest wildfire, and you sucked greedily on the warm tongue tasting your teeth. He moaned into you, the sound carrying the weight of his palms as he gripped the bare flesh of your waist to pull you tighter against him. He wanted to feel that mouth swallow a different muscle. He shifted you backwards, detaching your mouth from his face with a pop.

“On your knees.”

The command ripped through you, threatening to relax all the muscles in your gut, to release what you were so tightly holding. It was painful to concentrate on on your pulsing sex, to keep it in and feel the haze of lust overcome your thoughts at the same time.

“Yes, sir.”

You obeyed, dropping down for the umpteenth time that night. Endeavor watched as you stared up at him obediently through your lashes, your hands that were on his back trailed down to rest on his thighs. He felt the way your fingers tensed against his muscles, the way you strained to stay lucid. You waited for him to undo the button of his suit pants, he was the one in control after all, even if your resolve was crumbling with each passing second.

Endeavor had stroked himself all night, brought himself to the brink of release multiple times that night as he watched you blow dicks that weren’t his. The inflamed head of his cock was angry, weeping terribly as he pumped it with large hands. His lips curled up into a smirk when your mouth dropped open, in shock and hunger to taste him. He knows he would be the best meal you’d eat all night. He brought his cock close to your mouth, tapped it twice against your cheek. You licked your lips before tentatively licking a solid stripe from the base to the tip.

Hm, alright, Endeavor thought, relishing in the way your tongue curved against the underside of his length, pressing against the thick vein protruding from the silky skin. You had just begun, but this pleasure was manageab-oh.

Your tongue swirled around the head, starting at the very tip, circling the slit and lapping at the pre-cum. The circles got larger, and when your lips tightened around his flesh, his eyes shot open to stare down at your concentrating visage. He could see the way you struggled to fit his girth in your mouth, but you were just that skilled. Your lips folded around your teeth, and you slowly swallowed. The plush wall of your cheeks slid around him, suctioning him in deeper as you sucked and moved. It wasn’t deep bobs of your head, taking your time to lubricate his cock, but god, the vacuum in your throat threatened to pull Endeavor down into your body.

Saliva began to dribble from the corner of your lips. Your mouth was so full, his taste so wild, your jaw ached already. Your thighs clenched together, the bundle of nerves between them throbbed to be played with, but you knew you couldn’t, not if you wanted to make a mess of yourself in front of the most powerful man in Japan.

“Fuck,” Endeavor swore, gripping the hair on your head roughly, as though reminding himself that he was not yet swallowed by you, but still in control. His muscles twitched, abs flinching upwards as his cock dragged against your tongue, as you sunk your mouth around him deeper. You were moving slowly, too slowly, and he pistoned his hips forward slightly.

The movement had you straining against him, taken off guard, but you remain relaxed, widening your throat as much as possible to take him all in. You stopped sucking, opting to feel him sheathed in your throat. You wrapped your left thumb in a vice grip, a small trick to help subdue a gag reflex. You didn’t know if it really ever worked, but it was a comfort to have.

The head of his cock pressed past the back of your throat, and he angled his hips slightly to accommodate the direction. For a deep throat, you would’ve preferred to lay on your back at hip height, but you didn’t complain. Tears pricked up at the corner of your eyes, drool escaped down your chin, and dripped onto your bare breast, nipples painfully erect.

Shit, he was almost completely inside your throat. He felt the muscle spasm before it relaxed. He wondered what it took to make you gag. To make you lose yourself.

“I’m going to fuck your throat now.” he warned, even though you couldn’t dispute it. You wanted it. You moaned around him, the vibrations splintered from your throat and into his hardened muscle. The fingers in your hair tightened their grip,then he began to move. His hips swayed back, dislodging the cock from your tight throat, before he thrust back in. His motions were fluid, careful at first, getting you used to the feeling of the heavy weight on your tongue, stretching your jaw. But you were greedy. You’d been swallowing dick’s all night, and your throat was plenty warmed up. You wrenched yourself from your dick, your voice like static as you spoke,

“Don’t go easy on me.”

Endeavor’s eyebrows shot up, shocked at your brashness, but he chortled nonetheless. A small burst of flames erupted from his nostrils before he yanked your mouth back to its rightful place: around his cock. You swallowed him hungrily, your hands gripping the firm hamstring of his leg to pull him closer, deeper, and he did not hold back.

He snapped his hips, feeling the way your lips massaged his length as he dragged himself out and back in. The velour walls of your cheeks shivered as you sucked, your tongue curling back and forth, pressing a hard tip to the vein before furling in a ‘w’ and cupping his cock as it slid. The room was sweltering, and as you sucked, it only got hotter in degree. You felt sweat trickle down the back of your neck from the exertion of keeping upright. The bones in your knees screamed, your thighs quivered from neglect. Endeavor wrapped a moist palm around your throat.

He felt how his dick stretched you out, before retracting. It was the most marvelous experience. Your eyes rolled up to the back of your head, he bent forward, a hand pinched at your nipple and found it covered in drool. The friction ripped a shudder through your body, and you almost lost control as your bladder clenched uncontrollably. You needed to make him cum before you could relax.

With new found vigour, you sucked him in, bobbed your head and fondled his aching testicles. They jumped up in your palms, squeezing tightly together as you rolled them between nimble fingers. Endeavor grunted, thrusting into your willing mouth harder, losing himself in the feeling of being worshipped by you. He loved having someone on their knees, so subservient. But he wanted you to feel pleasure too.

“Touch yourself.”

Your eyes flung open, worried that you wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure to your groin. But you didn’t want to disobey. You dipped your fingers between your slick slit experimentally, almost collapsing at the gentle touch. Fire burned in your gut as your groin throbbed. Fuck, you had to go so badly. With your moistened finger, you rubbed small circles around your clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves instantly tingled, exploding into your body with a shock at the overstimulation of everything you had endured throughout the night.

Endeavor felt how your throat clamped down around him, tightening up as you toyed between your legs. He remembered the bottles of water you drank, the desperate look in your eyes when he had told you to hold it. He did say just a little bit longer. He was getting close, thrusting erratically into your jaw, the tip of your nose brushing against the hair of his pubic bone. He slowed when you spasmed around his length, the lack of oxygen making your head swim. You were drowning.

With each scintillating stroke to your clit, the pressure in you climbed higher, higher, threatening to burst. Endeavor joined your ascent, on the brink of explosion. His command came out in ragged bursts.

“Give in to me.”

It was so simple, the order ripping through you like a wave that spilled onto the shores of ecstasy. You came at the same time that you relaxed, no longer able to hold it back. Warm liquid poured out of you, dripping down your hand, leaving your thighs wet with your piss. There was no smell, the amount of water you consumed made it clear. But it reflected orange in his flame. As it poured out of you, Endeavor released his spill inside your mouth, down your throat, and you gulped it down hungrily.

You were hot, cold, ashamed and so, so far gone in your orgasm. The embarrassment that clawed its way up your spine threatened to curl you inside yourself, but the Pro-Hero kept his grip on your hair. He had pulled out from between your lips. Adding to the heat on your skin, his chin erupted into a beard of flames, lighting up from a sunrise glow to a midday glare.

He took in your dazed gaze, the glazing over them as you stared up at a heavenly light. He tucked himself back into his pants, zipping and buttoning up quickly. He stooped low, wiping at the leftover cum and drool on the corner of your mouth, your lips swollen, almost purple bruises left being sandwiched between your teeth and his cock. He sucked on his thumb, tasting himself like earlier. The diet was definitely working.

Warm palms smoothed down your hair, caressed the muscles of your shoulders as you stayed kneeling before him. You were frozen in place, fully aware you had just pissed yourself, all over your hand. It hung limp next to your body, drops collecting on the ends of your fingers before dripping to the floor. Filthy, what would he think of you. Tears fell down your cheeks and he wiped at them, wrapped his large arms around your waist to slowly pull you to standing.

The joint in your knees creaked as they stretched out, your footing unstable, but he held you. The fire on his face crackled above your head, a dim glow rather than a burning furnace. He could see that you’d never done that before, worried that he had pushed you a bit too far.

“Can I let go?” he asked, the weight of his palms grounding you. You nodded, following his body with your gaze as it shuffled to pick up your discarded clothing.

He folded your jeans, your t-shirt, your long discarded underwear and bra, tucking those safely into his pants pocket before flinging the others over his shoulder. With a single movement, he scooped you up into his arms, a large forearm cradling your back, shielding the side of your breasts if anyone would still be around, and under your knees. You were limp in his grip, shivering with the after effects of your orgasm, burying deeper against his warm skin. He felt the remains of piss drip down your legs, onto his expensive suit, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. Only you were on his mind now.

He walked you back to his office, giving the top of your head periodic pecks, his thumb stroking the soft skin of your thighs and breast. You felt a bit more alive with each passing second, when the daze gave in to raw emotion: shame, arousal, a hurt ego.

Endeavor closed the door behind him, all the monitors of each room in the mansion empty, the lights on, making it seem innocent once again. He placed you gently onto his comfortable black leather desk chair, reaching for the jug of water to the side and a washcloth he had tucked neatly away in a drawer. It’s what he would use to clean himself up.

He soaked the washcloth with the water, aware of how it might be cool against your skin, so he pressed lightly. You whimpered, eyes snapping down to watch as this hulk of a man kneeled before you, your roles reversed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice hoarse from the beating it took minutes before. Endeavor caressed the soft skin of your thigh, the flames of his face fizzled out so you could see his clean shaven jaw. He pressed soft kisses into your skin, licking a stripe up the dried piss-streak, tasting its saltiness.

“Ssh, you did well,” he praised, cleaning you up delicately. His large hands seemed too clumsy to work so deftly, but they cleansed you thoroughly.

“I did?” you asked, heavy limbs moving so that you rested a hand in his hair, the other stopping the hand that wiped at the evidence of your shame.

“Yes.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, coming to life once more at the thought of impressing the number one hero. When you were fresh and clean, he took your black panties from his pocket, slipping it around your ankles and dragging it up your legs with care. You lifted your hips for him to fix them properly, and he planted two kisses on your knees before he stood up. He kept your bra tucked away, pulling your t-shirt over your head. Your jeans were folded and placed on his desk.

“Can I take you home?” Endeavor asked you when he pulled you up to standing. Maybe not right now, but he still wanted to feel your pussy pulse around his cock.

“Yes, sir.”

#enji todoroki #bnharem server collab #enji x reader #endeavor #endeavor x reader #bnha #mine #my writing #enji #boku no hero x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #boku no hero

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omegapausestuck · 3 years

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So you killed Homestuck². Let’s talk

Hello, hello.

It’s me; 5ider.

Now, I know that you all don’t care about me, and maybe you shouldn’t, but I have been one of Homestuck’s most stalwart supporters. I’m one of the old guard, from back when the MSPA forums were still up and running — when "Karkat steals hands” was still considered the peak of comedy... and I have waded through Andrew’s knee-deep bullshit through hell to high water, patiently waiting for the pay-off that will surely someday come. I do this because I believe that there is something pure, and genuinely wonderful, buried beneath all the self-effacing and irony and melodramatics; and I wanted to make sure, that as long as there is one more person out there with any level of investment with this fandom, I would be there to show them that we care.

Through all the pauses and retcons and hiatuses and everything, I have remained steadfast. Even during the godawful GIGAPAUSE, where I watched in horror as hundreds of my friends wandered away to greener pastures, I made a promise to post something wholly original EVERY DAY!—just to keep the fires of fandom burning even a little bit longer—and when it turned out that the thing lasted more than the three weeks I feared it would, I never relented. 365 days gave 365 new pieces of content; despite the inexplicable strain it put on my mind, my body, and my spirit. I wound up in the hospital for overwork, and I never even mentioned it. The posts still flowed nevertheless.

Now, like I said, I have been a part of this community for a very long time, and I have, indeed, born witness to all manner of malice, and childish savagery. Of course, I’m nowhere near happy with the stories I’ve been given. I’ve been very vocal about my reservations, and my dissatisfaction, along the way; but I have always been a staunch believer in the respect of your fellow peers. You can only expect to be heard when you take the time to listen to others! No belittling, no bullying, no exposing, no.. no fuckeries!!! As such, I made a specific choice not to lend credence to these people, and neither respond nor denounce their behavior, because it’s not my job to be your babysitter, and it’s not my responsibility to educate other thoughtful, intelligent people in how to carry themselves. I just figured that eventually people will figure it out, and those who can’t play nice will eventually burn out all their own goodwill. I wanted to magnify what is good, and uplifting about us. By spotlighting the best of us, those with intent to spark wildfires of confusion and rancor might see that there were other ways to express their feelings. Powerful ways. Maybe even forms that are Objectively Beautiful.

But I can’t keep quiet any longer. I fear that my silence has allowed others with more short-term, violent ambitions to fester forth, and grow, unchecked, with time. I’ve seen hosts descend on misinformed, ignorant, and even innocent parties; with ruthless ferocity, unquenchable in their bloodlust and fervor. I’ve watched you bully, and gaslight, and purge, and raze through people; using them up like they’re no more than firewood to be cast into the pyre of this never-ending witch hunt for “equality,” and ..what’s that other one? “Employee benefits of the what pumpkin team?”

What a load of bullshit.

Many of you just want an excuse to go vent your frustrations at someone, and you’ll use any hot buzz word you can get behind to lash out with your venemous tongue. Thousands of people descended on Hussie at one point because of some weird “Narrative Rights” meme, and once those ides were thankfully depleted, you doubled down and kept deluging his account with more and more words, “for the joke.” What purpose does it serve to send a windfall of pustulant notifications in a volume so grand that you can be absolutely certain that he won’t be able to apprehend it all?! All he can do is ignore you. Perhaps if a couple hundred meaningful messages were sent his way in a non-confrontational matter, he might be able to process them. Maybe he might even consider them, and eventually come to an understanding. But the way that we spearhead monolithic campaigns against people like an orchestral carpet-bombing of these people’s inboxes and notification feed! IS NOT CONSTRUCTIVE! A person drawing a picture of a he/him John Egbert IS NOT RECPTIVE! A writer involved in a fandom they are highly passionate about IS NOT VINDICTIVE! These are human BEINGS, you guys! They are people! Just like you or me! No one deserves to be crucified in this way! It doesn’t matter how much you dislike the thing that they’ve done, It doesn’t matter how inspired by emotions or opinions or trauma or sorrow, or any other such justification you dream up! You cannot talk to people in a way that is designed to crush their spirit, and bury them under a bottomless deluge of vitriolic malevolence. Every hour of every day. Twenty-four/seven. Day in, day out. Without ceasing.

You are not their Executioner.

You have no right to cast judgement on these people you have never met, and know nothing about. Very few of you have tried to initiate a genuine conversation with any of these people you are so consumed with resentment towards. Very few of you care. It needs to stop. I’m sick of seeing it. I’m sick of hearing about it. I’m sick of fearing it. You’ve harassed your way into your own detriment, and the bad faith of a few hundred-thousand has forced all the millions of us to suffer. MAYBE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT HOMESTUCK^2. MAYBE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT HIVESWAP. MAYBE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT PESTERQUEST. MAYBE YOU DON’T CARE ABOUT PSYCHOLONIALS. BUT MANY OF US DO. AND IT IS NOT YOUR RIGHT TO SPEAK FOR ALL OF US. GROW UP. SIT DOWN. LISTEN.

that’s all

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soulmate-game · 4 years

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Continuation of the story from Day 1, because you guys requested it enough that I started Thinking, lol.

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 3: Siblings

—*—*—*—*—*

Dinner. One day after meeting her father for the first time. She had managed to postpone any sort of… socialization and emotional bonding, during their meeting earlier for everyone to choose from Marinette’s initial sketches for them and generally consult some more, by once again steamrolling everyone with Professionalism and Business Marinette.

But no longer. She couldn’t escape. Staring at a giant wooden, elaborate door like it was her pathway to Prison—

“Stop dramatizing everything in your head, Mari,” Adrien fondly scolded, gently rapping the side of her skull with one knuckle. “I got things to do, for your company I might add, so I can’t stay. But, you’ll be fine,” he leaned in, smirking at her and winking as he lowered his voice. “Besides, you’ve been through way worse than a little family reunion, Bugaboo. You’ve faced down way scarier people than the Waynes. You got this,” he encouraged before giving her a solid clap on the shoulder and a chaste kiss on the cheek, walking back towards their sleek but understated dark red car. Rented, of course, for the business trip, but nonetheless very nice.

Adrien had driver’s licenses for just about every major country. Marinette stopped questioning it a while ago.

She waited until he was gone before throwing her hands up. “Scarier people, he says. Like the Bat clan isn’t known for being some of the most intimidating heroes and vigilantes in the spotlight,” she grumbled. When she turned around, it was to the door already being open, and she jumped a bit in surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone answer the door, but sure enough Alfred Pennyworth stood there holding the door with a small smile, with Bruce Wayne and all of Marinette’s siblings gathered behind him. At least this time, nobody had their spouses or children. Every one of them was smirking, some more sharply than others (Damian).

“Would you like to come in, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Alfred asked, waving his hand to gesture to the fact that there was plenty of room for her to enter. Blushing, she did just that, taking a breath and forcing herself to actually look at the family she had just met instead of down at her glossy navy blue pumps. Jason, the man with the white fringe in his hair. Second Robin, current Red Hood, her mind supplied, spoke up with a grin and his arms crossed over his chest.

“You don’t look so suave anymore, little Queenie,” he teased. Marinette instantly made a face, screwing up her nose.

“No. That nickname is vetoed. One of my friend’s nicknames is Queenie, and not only will she never let me live it down if she finds out someone called me that, but, just no,” Marinette dramatically shivered. “Most of my friends call me Princess nowadays anyway,” she shrugged. “Adrien started it, and it somehow caught on. It’s too much work to protest at this point.”

“You’re not good with crowds,” the soft spoken woman, Cassandra, decided to add. Marinette winced, shifting on her feet even as she followed the group to the dining room.

“Ehhh. I’ve gotten used to dealing with press and stuff, to a certain degree anyway considering my alias. And wearing my Business persona always helps in consultations. But, I’m not…” Marinette bit the inside of her cheek, clearly a little uncomfortable as she looked around. “The best at… actually talking to people outside of my small group of friends.”

Bruce sighed as most of his kids chuckled or snorted at that. Dick, the oldest but second-shortest of the men besides Tim, came over and draped an arm familiarly over Marinette’s shoulders. He still towered over her though, so he had to slouch a bit to do so.

“Ah, that would be the genetics. Let’s hope you stay where you are at instead of getting as bad at communication as B,” he told her cheerfully. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“What about Damian?”

“He’s even worse!”

“Tt,” said teenager tutted, rolling his eyes as they entered the dining room and he was able to come up to Marinette’s other side. “That was mostly how I was raised before I met Father. I have gotten a lot better than I used to be, Grayson.”

Dick gave him a smile, graciously relieving Marinette of the close contact in favor of rustling Damian’s hair despite the fact that the younger Wayne was taller than him already. “Yes, you sure have! But you still need improvement, baby bird.”

Soon enough, everyone managed to get seated around the large dining table. Bruce insisted that Marinette take one of the seats next to him at the head of the table, across from Damian, since this was her first family dinner. Dick sat next to her, Jason across from him, followed by Tim and Duke on Damian’s side of the table. On the other side of Dick sat Cassandra, and then Stephanie. Alfred served everyone before also taking a seat at the table, on the opposite end from Bruce.

And, true to BatFam tradition, everything was a little awkward for the first minute or two. Marinette didn’t know what to say, and nobody quite knew where to begin. Dick would normally start a conversation, but he was trying to glare into Bruce’s head a silent message of “talk to her, damn it.”

Finally seeming to get it, Bruce cleared his throat and turned to Marinette. “So, I wanted to ask. When do you find out about being my daughter?”

Several people around the table closed their eyes in mourning for Bruce’s social skills. Marinette though, just smiled in slight relief at the decision of how to start talking being taken from her.

“Oh. It was in stages, really. When I was ten, we started our unit in school on genetics. I don’t usually care enough about science to do much more than the school requires, but genetics captivated me for some reason. I researched it almost obsessively at home for a while, almost instantly realizing that there had to be a reason that I had blue eyes when none of the rest of my family did. After a week or two, I found my Maman and Papan’s adoption papers in their room,” she blushed, tugging on one end of her bangs, which she had framing her face since she was wearing her hair down that day. “I uh… I’ve always been a little nosy. I never told them that I found the papers, to me it was just the answer I needed. I didn’t think about it at all after that, and my obsession over genetics went away. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I decided to look into my birth parents,” Marinette sighed, shoving a bite of food in her mouth to buy her time before continuing. Everyone was focused on her, and it was a little unsettling. Every one of them had a sharper gaze than a normal person, and it made her feel like she was made of glass and everyone else could see right through her. “I was going through a lot, back then. I wanted someone to be mad at, I wanted to be able to blame my DNA for the things that had happened.”

“Things?” Bruce interrupted, back straight and eyebrows drawn down. “What things?” Marinette giggled, tilting her head instead of answering and just letting her eyes study him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the Dark Knight. Original vigilante of Gotham city, one of the founding members of the Justice League. Famous for his secrecy, intimidating presence, and intelligence. Then she switched her gaze, one by one, to everyone else at the table before leaning back and taking a sip of her soda.

“Do you guys know anything about the situation Paris experienced for four years?” She asked, instead of directly answering. It was Tim who frowned, leaning forward to look at her and reply.

“I heard very vague rumors of weird things, but nothing concrete enough to investigate. What happened?”

Marinette hummed, deciding to sum it up for them. “The short version? When I was thirteen, a classmate of mine spontaneously turned into a giant rock monster and destroyed a good portion of the city. Turns out, that was the first of many attacks by our city’s very own supervillain, Hawkmoth. He had a magical artifact that allowed him to take advantage of anyone’s negative emotions to give them powers and brainwash them into being, essentially, temporary villains that he used for his own means. Two heroes showed up out of nowhere, powered by similar magical artifacts, to combat him and free the people he corrupted. Ladybug and Chat Noir, the original Parisian heroes and the leaders of the team that later had to form.”

Jason frowned, along with everyone else at the table. Finally, it was Duke who asked:

“How did we not know about villains in Paris?” To which Marinette just gave him a dangerously wicked smirk that was far too similar to Damian’s for anyone’s comfort.

“Because I do my job,” she told him flatly, sipping from her cup as everyone stared at her in various amounts of shock. “That’s why finding out that my biological father was Batman made so much sense. That’s why I wanted to find out who my birth parents were. I wanted to blame the heroism on genetics. And, it doesn’t look like I was exactly wrong.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Yeah, that was how her first family dinner and subsequent identity reveal went.

Luckily, considering that Bruce had hired MDC for a pretty long job, Marinette was able to finish school online instead of going back to Paris for it. There was no real need anyway, they had defeated Hawkmoth and gotten Adrien emancipated so for now it was calm in Paris. They didn’t need their heroes anymore, for the time being. This meant that Marinette and Adrien, along with a few employees that helped measure and cut fabric and do secretarial duties they needed help with, got to stay in Gotham while Marinette went back and forth to Wayne manor, Wayne Tower, and back to their temporary home.

After about a month, Marinette was comfortable enough with the Waynes that she found herself lounging in the bat cave as she sketched, though she kept raising her eyes to the glass tubes that held old uniforms. Damian was sat across from her, essentially laying out over two chairs while he played some game upside down on his phone. He might usually be a cold brat, even for a sixteen year old, but even he liked to abuse the way furniture should be used and ignore the world via technology.

But he still caught her constantly wandering gaze.

“You don’t like them.”

“They suck!” Marinette immediately agreed, slamming her sketchbook on the metal briefing table. “Your Robin outfit is the only passable one there is! The colors aren’t even the issue, even high fashion designers can appreciate a good color clash moment. But what was Father thinking?! Putting Grayson in that glorified onesie— why are there no pants?! Jason’s at least as a cape that can cocoon his body and prevent anyone from seeing the disaster beneath. I should thank Tim for at least upgrading the suit to having pants, but he still kept the outside-underwear look that I cannot forgive. The attempt at fashion, though, is appreciated. Disappointing, but appreciated.”

“That pretty much sums them all up,” Damian quipped, getting a snort of amusement out of his sister. Maybe that was one thing he had grown to like about her. She didn’t reprimand him for his sense of humor, and usually she even laughed along. The more morbid humor would get a playful shove and a glare, but no real animosity. And she understood him on a different level, too. One he appreciated even more.

“You said, yesterday, that the Cure brings back everyone who dies during a Miraculous-related incident,” Damian spoke up again after a moment, pointedly not looking at her. “Did you ever count?”

Marinette, this being one of the reasons he was quickly growing fond of her, immediately understood. She sighed, closing her notebook. She might have only been two years his elder, but she had had what felt like a lifetime of more experiences than he did, usually in the friendship and social department though. They were roughly equal in their heroism experience, which was weird to think about, but Damian still valued her input. It was different from the rest of the family.

“It was different in Paris than it would be for anyone else. I didn’t keep track of the number of people who died,” she finally answered, taking her hair out of its work bun and running her hands through the midnight black locks. “But I kept track of how often. Since nobody remembered their deaths, I guess I felt it was my responsibility to remember my failures for them. My former best friend, Alya. Over the course of those four years, she died seventeen times. Her boyfriend, Nino, died fourteen. The Mayor died three times. Chloe, my current friend and former bully, died twenty-two times,” she grimaced at Damian’s shocked expression, nodding grimly. “During those first two, maybe two and a half years, she was one of the primary Akuma targets. She was still either an active bully or in the beginning of trying to change for the better, so she caused a lot of negative emotions everywhere she went. Things got better once she matured a bit, though. Anyway, there’s this girl I used to babysit. Manon. She died five times before she was even ten years old,” Marinette shook her head, that look of age and exhaustion that Damian saw in every Wayne and every hero he had ever fought with seeping into her eyes. “My parents, they died thirty-seven times. They were constantly worried about me, and ran into danger on several occasions trying to find and keep me safe. But I could never tell them who I was. I physically could. I had the power to sit them down and say; Hey, I’m Ladybug. Stop running out and getting yourselves killed. But I never did. I valued my identity first. So I usually ended up seeing, in the middle of a fight, one or both of them squished under falling debris. Or drowned. Frozen solid. Burned alive,” she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “So no. I don’t understand what it was like for you, to count bodies as you felled them. But hell, if it doesn’t feel like I should. Logic doesn’t mean much in the face of emotion, especially guilt. I know I didn’t kill the people I care about, but every single one of their deaths weighs on me like I was the one that caused it.”

Damian nodded, and they shared a few moments of peaceful, contemplative silence as they both ruminated on their less than pleasant memories without fear of being yelled at for what those memories contained.

“But, I do have a secret,” she admitted softly, attracting her brother’s emerald-eyed attention again. The normally cheerful woman was much more subdued even than before, sapphire irises self conscious and vulnerable, which was rare. She licked her lips, even more rare considering her love of her light pink lipstick, and moved off her chair so that she was, instead, sitting on the cold stone floor. Without hesitation, Damian joined her.

“Technically, it didn’t happen. It was a timeline that my friend, the one who I gave the snake Miraculous, essentially erased when he reversed time. But I remember it even though I shouldn’t. How could I forget?”

“You took a life,” Damian whispered, grimacing in empathy. “First time?”

“And the second, and the fifth,” she admitted. “Viperion had to try seven times before I stopped repeating it. But it was always the same person, back during our final battle. I killed Gabriel Agreste seven times. But nobody but me and Luca will ever remember.”

Damian and Marinette both knew it wasn’t the same as Damian’s childhood. They both knew that they would likely never fully understand one another’s trauma. Not the nuances of it. But they did understand the important parts, the broad strokes. Despite their vastly different lives, they understood the big parts that shaped one another.

That was why Damian took to her so quickly. If he had been younger and still bratty, naive, and angry at everything, then it would be a different story entirely. But he was matured, more willing to let himself feel sympathy. And that made the difference.

“You never forget the first person,” he remarked.

“No matter the age or timeline,” she agreed. “I saw how hard it was to stop. How sickeningly addictive it can be, but I hate what it makes me more than I like how it feels.”

“... me too,” Damian whispered. “Me too.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Wooo!” Marinette cheered as she flew through the air, her hands latching onto Dick’s. There was no audience, but there didn’t need to be. Just the two of them, doing a routine that they’ve been working on during the few chances they had for the past several weeks. Marinette had never done trapeze before Dick helped her learn, but her time swinging through Paris streets helped tremendously alongside her general Gymnastics experience.

Marinette and Dick flipped through the air, swinging from bar to bar, Dick occasionally catching and tossing her again. They soared through the air, both curling through two flips before landing on their respective platforms with matching wide smiles. Marinette, chest heaving a bit since she was slightly out of shape (meaning that she wasn’t at all out of shape, only out of practice when it came to swinging through the air for any length of time. There’s a difference). She met Dick on the floor, who proceeded to ruffle her hair happily.

“That was awesome! Looks like you finally got the routine down,” he praised. She laughed, elbowing him.

“I bet I’m better on the balance beam,” she challenged, making Dick grin widely.

“Oh you are on!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Ya ever died before?” Jason asked, making Marinette chuckle.

“Two-hundred and eighty-seven times.”

“You started as Ladybug at thirteen, right?”

“Yup. No training or mentor for the first year either.”

“Yeah, then that sounds about right. Wanna go break all the traffic laws?”

“Only if we take your bike.”

“Fuckin’ Duh. What else?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You stalked Adrien?” Tim asked, smirking that insufferable smirk of his. Marinette groaned, flopping back onto the sofa.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way, anyway. I just took a lot of pictures and spied on him.”

“Yup. You’re Bruce’s kid,” he remarked, tapping away at his laptop. Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“You have noooo place to judge, Mister ‘Dick Grayson is the only person alive who can do four somersaults in the air!’ And ‘Yes, I‘ve known that you are batman since I was eight. Look at all these pictures I took when I— what was your terminology again?”

Tim rolled his eyes, but a grin was peeking through. “Yeah, yeah.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Four months later, and Marinette was staring down at all the garment bags she had painstakingly filled. Outfits for every single one of her new family members. It took a while, but they were ready for the Wayne Gala. Adrien slung am arm over her shoulder.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Princess,” he praised, grinning at the array of coveted outfits they were about to transport. “But one teensy weeny, tiny little thing.”

“What is it, Chaton?”

Adrien grinned. “Do you have a dress for yourself? Bruce invited you, too, didn’t he?”

Marinette’s face drained of color, right as a knock sounded on the door. Adrien, seeing as Marinette was so far into Panic Mode that she could not be reached at the moment, went to open the door. A second later, plastic was all Marinette could see. Blinking, she raised her head.

It was Cass, holding out a pink garment bag with Marinette’s name on it.

“Thought you would forget,” was all the other woman offered as explanation. Marinette, after gaping for a moment, slowly took the bag from her. Cass smirked. “Present from WE.”

Marinette laughed.

“You guys are the best.”

—*—*—*—*—*

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl

#mlb x dc #ml x dc #maribat #b!dbwm2020 #bio dad bruce wayne #Day Three #platonic Brucinette #Platonic Daminette

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mannien · 3 years

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Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - CHAPTER 1

The one with stress, takeout food around the world, late night walks, and Disney dreams.

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings: some stress, some anxiety, mention of sex, and a lot of smiles

Masterlist

Fourth week into the morning pitch meetings at BBC, Millie felt lifeless and drained. The room was usually exploding with ideas, creative energy, and a lot of constructive feedback to the few interns who were allowed to join the conversation with editors, writers, and producers. That morning had started ugly enough for her: with an overwhelming number of e-mails about the schedule and missing content for Politics Live.

When she first landed her spot at BBC, Millie was over the moon. She was constantly calling it a dream come true, a once in a lifetime opportunity for her to begin a writing career in media. Her degree seemed to be the best choice for her future and Millie was ready to prove that graduating from humanities can actually land her a decent job. Her first days were filled with morning preparations, early commute to the city centre and exceptionally smoothed out shirts. The work environment in such a fast-paced industry felt inspiring and daunting at the same time, but Millie felt obligated to use this experience to its full potential. Each day she attempted to learn more than the day before and possibly show off a tiny bit more of her creative skills to her superiors. She spent her evenings researching topics and people, trying not to fall out of the loop. Being one step forward was hard work, one that Millie desperately wanted to ace.

The second week of her internship brought a slight shift to her agenda. After grasping the general concepts of working for a major radio and TV broadcasting company, she was aware of the production processes. She tried to happily follow up all the details about the work of a writer, a researcher, or an editor – just so she could be prepared for the follow-up of the introductory week. And as she hoped her interview was remembered and she would soon contribute to any program touching upon music or pop culture, her dreams and calls were slowly fading away. The intern manager ascribed her to the team devoted strictly to politics and daily news, having no vacancies for the popular radio programs. Even though she took whatever spot was offered, it was only to get more insight and experience.

Having already managed to speak up a few times during the morning routines in the conference room, Millie eased herself into the work environment and was treated like a regular employee. But the first wave of success quickly passed, especially when she was hit with growing emptiness in her brain. She did not enjoy politics, so as far as she could, she attempted to sneak in a sociological aspect into the context. But her tactic had an expiration date.

A couple of heads were expectantly turned at Millie when she was unsurely stuttering her weak ideas for the upcoming programme. She knew it wasn’t going well and she was mentally cursing herself for trying to impress the producers that much so early on.

“This isn’t gonna work. We’ve covered this enough in the evening news. Let’s take five, and maybe you’ll come up with a different angle. I’ll give you another shot here.”

Hugh, the head writer took off his glasses and watched her fidget in her seat. She nodded and took a deep breath, before leaving the room for a short break. Her mind was racing in panic; she wasn’t ready to admit that she didn’t have any idea. She walked back and forth through the corridor until she cursed quietly and walked away to the main hall. She pulled her phone from the back pocket and without overthinking this anymore, she called her boyfriend. He picked up after the third ring.

“Babe, can I call you back…”

“No, Frank,” She felt determined and fierce. Her hands shook from the pure view on board members slowly coming back from the kitchen with fresh coffee mugs. They were probably waiting to hear her another take on the TV show which Millie, wholeheartedly, was beginning to hate. “My work on the programme is too basic and I’ve been roasted for the past fifteen minutes or so. Hugh has me in the spotlight in front of everyone. Help me, please?”

“It’s not your fault they’ve given you a job you’re not good at, babe. It’s just an internship, they will roast you anyway.”

Millie’s lungs were ready to stop working and suffocate her. She feared she might start hyperventilating, or at least meet up with a panic attack from the nerves. Franklin’s reaction seemed to be absolutely unfair and inconsiderate of her actual feelings, and he must have felt that through the piercing silence on the line.

“Look, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t worry so much about it. They will probably just give you another placement where you’ll fit more, I don’t see why it’s such a bad thing.” And just like that, she started doubting herself and her right to overthink her situation. It didn’t sit well with Millie and she could feel anger slowly making its way through her veins.

“Can’t you just fucking help me? This one time?” She lost her temper, she lost her patience. At the same time Riley, one of the end writers, started waving at her from the end of the hall as to show her that her time is coming to an end. “I need a hook, or something that would spark a debate. Brexit-themed, maybe. Can you think of anything?”

Frank groaned loudly. He wasn’t exactly happy that she made him break down his ambitious wall and let her in on topics he was too invested in. Millie could hear him moving around as he left his desk of the equally large office of The Guardian, until the line went surprisingly quiet. Her anger and fear made her clutch her phone tightly to her ear, while her legs started carrying her slowly to the terrifying conference room.

“Think internationally. See what the Spanish had to say about May’s resignation from the Office. Think economics in the EU. Try to stand on the Union’s side and do some fair judgement.”

“Give me facts, not ideas. You’re the one who knows politics.”

“Spanish government says that May’s resignation is bad news. Compare it to the popular opinion that she was the worst Prime Minister since the 18th century and the American war on independence.” Millie breathed in, trying to desperately grasp all the details he just provided her with.

“That’s a… harsh and history-digging argument,” She mumbled in surprise, “where did you get that from?” She grabbed a yellow post-it note from the reception desk and quickly scribbled the key words on it. Her briefing on politics was never something like this and she could feel the embarrassment making its way into her heart. It wasn’t her way of thinking and she felt like a fraud.

“I can’t tell you that.” By the end of the single sentence Millie could feel the blood escaping her face, making her look pale and scared for dear life. She didn’t want to have heard that sentence, she was definitely happier not knowing how did he come up with a story like this. That was one of the many reasons she tried not to talk business with him.

“An opinion entry. A column for The Guardian. Shit, you just busted one of your colleagues.”

“Sometimes I hate it that you’re smart. Did I ever tell you that?”

“You just saved my internship!”

“Please don’t say that. I will pretend that we just talked about the weather.”

“I’ll spend them the details. You’re the best, Frank.”

“Alright, go kick ass.”

And that she did. Franklin did save her internship, mainly because Millie avoided the specifics about who and why said something so harsh about the resigning Prime Minister. However, it definitely did spark interest among the production board. Afraid of not being so lucky next time, she decided to politely suggest a replacement for her permanent internship division within BBC, due to her ‘personal discomfort with discussions over issues of such importance and potential shame to their glorious country.’

Millie felt bad for using her boyfriend’s knowledge for survival at work. She wasn’t genuine and her idea didn’t come from her hard work - it was sourced in fear and anxiety-driven reactions. This situation proved to her that she wasn’t fit for the position, but it also raised her stress levels around the fact that she couldn’t get by on her own in the industry. She didn’t want others to navigate her through it all, but the conversation she had with Frank had also made her uncomfortable. Her need of support in a stressful situation was primarily turned down, so—naturally to her character—she started to worry even more.

With a heavy heart and two bags of Wagamama takeout, she walked up the stairs to his apartment. She was usually working until later hours than Frank, so all she really needed was for him to open the door for her. She leaned on the doorframe as she waited patiently for the two turns of the lock. He opened still in his work attire – tailored jeans and a light grey button up shirt. He was holding his phone next to his ear and humming approvingly to the speaker when he looked her up and down. He winked at her and let her in, as he continued to talk with someone.

Inside, Millie found the TV turned on with a football game playing. His work jacket was still hanging on the back of the tall stool in the kitchen, and the grocery bags laid unpacked on the table. She took off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she made a little room for their food on the countertop. Pulling off her sweater, she peeked into the shopping bags – she wasn’t surprised to find a couple bottles of beer and food essentials, a multipack of tissues and a large box of condoms.

“What’s all this, babe?” Franklin came up to her and briefly kissed her on the lips, before looking into the boxes with deliciously smelling food.

“I just thought it might be nice to eat some goodies,” She smiled, trying to sniff out his mood first. He smiled back at her with approval and reached for the plates in the cupboard, so she continued, “also, it’s a ‘thank you for being my saviour today,’ kinda thing.”

“Ah, yeah. I bet everyone on my floor will hate BBC’s guts for that.” Frank said it so casually, with a shrug to follow up, that Millie struggled to understand the dynamic he had at The Guardian. He seemed to be a great fit for his team, because a week into his new job, he was already invited for Friday drinks and talked about his co-workers just like anyone would about their long-time friends. She couldn’t understand how was he getting so lucky at any step, but the last thing she wanted to do is doubt him. Any time worries and competitiveness clouded her brain, Millie was making extra room for compassion and support.

Frank unloaded some of the curry on his plate and started eating with a fork, and then made his way to the living room where he spread out on the sofa. He didn’t say anything else, somewhat scaring Millie that he will let her know he’s uncomfortable randomly, on a promisingly good day. Trying to figure out her brain, she followed his actions and took some extra food to the coffee table, before sitting down next to him.

“But you’re not gonna get into trouble for that, are you?” she was biting the inside of her cheek hard, definitely not used to not being judged for using someone else’s help.

“Nah, I don’t think so. They don’t know I’ve got a girl at BBC, so I should be just fine.”

Millie ate her curry in silence, suddenly at loss of words driven by his surprising statement. She didn’t want to raise an argument or seem overly sensitive. But for some reason she hoped that he would talk about her at work, especially considering his already formed strong bonds in the office, and a definitely higher success rate in his position. Ever so charming Franklin, he always glowed among people. She couldn’t really fight with this, so she just kept any comments to herself and focused on her food.

Frank switched the channel to the evening news and pulled her to his side once they were done eating. It comforted Millie to know that at the end of the day, they could both enjoy each other’s company, no matter what was happening at work. She didn’t pay much attention to the news, but rather focused on the way he reacted to it and what he enjoyed. She felt too tired to get invested in another load of politics, so she just soaked in his warmth and curled more into his side. He smelled of coffee and heavy, musky cologne that he liked to reapply frequently. Millie closed her eyes and breathed out the stress that weighed her down after a long day, finally finding peace.

“I’ll go grab a beer, you want one?” he abruptly stood up, making her slightly loose her balance and lean back towards the pillows. She closed her eyes and pressed her lips in a thin line.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? You’re awfully quiet today.” He spoke already from the kitchen, not even catching a glimpse of her pursed lips.

“I just need to wind down. It’s been stressful day.” She pushed a little smile on her cheeks as he came back with a frown. He took a few large sips of his drink and put it on the table, before lowering himself on the couch and leaning over Millie.

“I can help you relax, if you want.” He raised an eyebrow in a flirtatious manner, leaning into her and leaving a series of delicate kisses on her lips. He then moved onto her jaw and sucked on her skin, but never left a mark. Slowly massaging her waist, he slid his hand under her shirt and sprawled his fingers across her hip to pull her closer.

Millie enjoyed the warmth that started to spread through her body, but she couldn’t find any energy to give some of it back. She felt drained and exhausted, so a mere thought about participating in sexual activities was sure to make her at least slightly uncomfortable. Unless Frank was willing to change something about it.

“Okay, hold on,” her chuckle and a light push at his chest made him narrow his eyebrows in confusion, “I don’t think I’ve got enough energy today, Frankie.” Her whisper was followed by a reassuring smile. She weaved her fingers through his short hair and kissed the tip of his nose.

“What if I provide you with some energy first?”

“What, you’ll give me an energy drink?” She laughed at her poor joke and he chuckled, too, but more at her silliness than anything else. He laid her down comfortably and cautiously peppered her with kisses on her neck and the tiny bit of cleavage that was available without unbuttoning her shirt. She was slowly giving in, allowing him to get lower on her body and touch her. Frank either wanted to make her feel better, or was really horny. But whatever the case was, she didn’t want to stop him and ruin his enthusiasm. The glow in his eyes and admiration painted across his face were too intoxicating to back away. His touch was filled with sparks of emotions and a kind of drive that Millie was addicted to. She felt wanted and needed, and that’s what made her return the heated kisses despite her hooded, weary eyes.

They walked hand in hand through the chilly evening, sometime after she persuaded Frank to walk her to the nearest tube station. The wind was slightly tickling her neck, but other than that she felt at peace. She let her hair down, flowing gently with each blow of the air and lightly caressing her face like a safety blanket. They swayed their hands until they had to make room for a group of people passing by.

“Jane texted me about a little get together this Friday,” She mumbled into the night, trying not to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere around them.

“Ah, yeah. Aaron told me about it, too. I guess we’re going, right?”

“Yeah, it might be nice. The girls mentioned this new club near their apartment? I think that’s where they wanted to go.”

“Cool. I could use a little break.”

As they continued their walk, Millie mostly focused on leading the way through tight London streets. Franklin’s parents rented him an apartment in the city centre, close to everything you could dream of in London. It also meant crowded streets at any hour, so to have a nice walk around the neighbourhood usually requested it to be late at night. But it didn’t matter to him, as long as he had a short commute to the office and all other things that life requested from him, within reach. There were times when he would mention coming back to Manchester and supporting his parents at their law firm, but Millie saw how much he preferred his growing career as a journalist. Mathilda and William were a generous couple, so they shared their resources with him and tried to help him get into the business as smoothly as possible. Sometimes she wanted to ask him about his permanent position at The Guardian and whether his name had anything to do with it, but she never felt comfortable enough to do it. Some things were better left unspoken.

Reaching the staircase to the station, Franklin stopped and made her turn to him and look up at his smiling face.

“Thanks for coming over tonight. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.” She smiled shyly, nodding her head in reassurance.

“I wish you could finally move to the city, though. It would be so much easier if you were a few blocks away.”

“You do realize that even if I moved out, it wouldn’t be anywhere nearby?” Her chuckle resonated through her body, almost as if she wanted to humour herself at the topic that had started to come up more often in their conversations.

“I could ask around the office if anyone has a room available to rent.”

“But I don’t want to share my personal space with strangers, you know this. Don’t try to change my mind about it.” She smiled tightly.

Frank has been trying to persuade her into moving out for months. He wanted to be closer to her, within a short train journey, rather than a whole commute in and out of Kingston. He felt comfortable in the business of London, and Millie liked to call him out on being spoiled by having an apartment on his own in such a lively part of the city. But she wasn’t financially ready to leave her family home in equally comfortable Southwest London, where she had all she needed within her reach, and her social life was just a tiny bit longer train trip away. It was a source of their small disputes from time to time, because it was Millie who spent more time on going to his place and spending time there. Naturally, it made her feel more engaged in their relationship and Frank tried his best make up for the difference. But one thing that never occurred, was Millie staying over for longer than a night. Even a night’s sleepover was a rare event, somehow always blessed by excuses from either one of them.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he pecked her lips and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I talk about it out of concern, okay?”

“Okay. But I like my train rides and I like Kingston. So let’s just deal with it for now, yeah?”

“’Course,” He sent her a tight smile before giving her one last kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“Will do.”

Millie was one of those people who could be easily judged as thinkers. Years of taking trains and buses in and out of central London taught her to cherish every moment of peace she gets during her journeys. That’s how she learned to create playlists for each season – summer commutes were always different than autumn ones; they required different sounds and lyrical quality. Intense months during university semesters also showed her how to read fast between the stops and how to juggle standing on the tube and holding an open book without falling, as the train slowed and rushed every few seconds.

As she was approaching her station in Kingston, she stopped the music but kept her earphones in. A bunch of other people was hurrying to get out of the train and get home as soon as possible, but after leaving the station, she would have a lonely 15-minute walk to her neighbourhood, so she always tried to stay alert in the evenings. Getting on the sidewalk in the busiest area of Kingston, she closed her book and put it back in her backpack, pulled the jacket tighter around her middle and continued her steady walk.

The air was getting crispier with each minute outside. It was refreshing and calm, disturbed only by a few laughs from the pub across the street and two cars passing her by. She turned into one of the quieter streets, where the buildings were becoming shorter and more separated from each other. Brick fences and trimmed hedges adorned the concrete sidewalks on both sides of the street, illuminated only by a few lanterns. Most of the light was coming from the windows in a row of semi-detached houses that Millie has known for a good chunk of her life.

Right when she wanted to cross the street and take a right, she heard a subtle clicking of a dog collar and a leash. Soft padding from the back was slowly approaching her and becoming louder, as well as someone’s whistle.

“Tess, come here!” a hushed call didn’t disrupt the peace of the night, but rather added the familiarity that Millie adored. She slowed her walk and turned around, just in time to be met with lightly jogging blue Staffordshire Bull Terrier. She panted lightly with her tongue out and reached Millie’s legs, where she tucked her head and mewled timidly.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” Millie chuckled at the dog’s persistence in keeping close. She scratched her head and patted her on the back, “are you on your evening walk, Tessa? Is that right?”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, Millie,” Dominic reached them and sent Millie a kind and apologetic smile, “good evening.”

“Hi, it’s good to see you.” She beamed at the middle-aged man, whom she learned to adore like a family member.

“Likewise, yeah. Heading home?”

“I am, just got off the train.”

“We will keep you company, then. Is that alright?” He fixed his glasses and leaned down to attach the leash to Tessa’s collar. Millie’s insides warmed and her mind calmed down at the idea that she will get to spend a few minutes with a friend.

“Absolutely, thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. I bet Tom would have my head, hadn’t I offered,” they chuckled at the mention of his son. Their laughter died off comfortably and escaped into the night air, while Millie reminisced about the caring nature of the Hollands. “How is it going at BBC?” he asked after a moment, letting her go first through a narrow passage.

“It’s… going,” she smiled shyly, not sure how to dress up her words. In Dominic’s company she always felt one step behind in her creative skills; his writing and comic abilities exceeded her capabilities, or so she thought. “but I feel like I’ve definitely hit an end with politics. I know it’s only been a month, but it’s just… it keeps on proving that I should be writing about something else.”

“Oh, it’s totally understandable. Rest assured, you’re not the only one stuck like this,” They turned the corner onto her street. “but I wish you luck there. They have some sensible editors, so I assume you’ll get a chance at something else as well.”

“I hope so. Today I asked them about switching departments and the intern manager told me she will think about it, so there is a tiny light.”

“Something will always work out. You’re smart, you’ll find your way there.”

Dom and Millie continued down the sidewalk, until Tessa stopped near the gate to Millie’s house. She sniffed the pavement and turned back to the girl who crouched down to pet the Staffy one last time.

“Thanks for walking with me,” her smile was genuine, coming straight from her heart. “please say hi to Nikki and the boys. Is Sam still home?”

“He is, he starts his practice at the end of June. So, we all will be here to celebrate your birthdays.”

“Oh, that’s great! It’s been a while since we’ve all been together.”

“That’s true. But you’re welcome to stop by anytime.”

“I know, thank you.” With fondness painted across her face, she scratched Tessa’s ear and stood up straight, reaching for the keys in her pocket.

“Have a good night.”

“You too. Bye, Tess!”

Whenever she got the chance to interact with someone from their family, Millie instantly felt their love and care penetrate her straight to the core. It was this kind of relationship that had been built through the years, only making it stronger and bringing it closer to the concept of family.

Nikki, Dom’s wife and Anna, Millie’s mother met shortly before Millie and Tom were born. At first only neighbours, soon they became best friends to the point of engaging their families in a kind affair. Greetings at the doorstep turned into late night family dinners and weekends away with the kids. They were used to spending most of the birthdays and holidays together, especially when Millie and Tom’s birthdays two days apart brought them all closer. She raced her best friend in Anna’s womb and came out to this world right before the brown-haired boy. Ever since the Beavers celebrated the birth of their third and youngest daughter, the Hollands began their journey with four boys. They always stayed close and treated each other like family, deeming it necessary to nourish their friendship and turn it into something everlasting. The example of their parents taught Millie and Tom to mimic the closeness and made them create their own little world.

Millie’s older sisters also treated Tom, Harry, Sam and Paddy like brothers, but not as much as Millie did. Samantha and Liz were already grown toddlers when the families got together, so they figured more as the female patrons of their youngest sister and her adventures with the boys. But Millie and Tom’s friendship turned into something so effortless and harmless that no supervision was necessary. They were each other’s partners in crime, best friends from next door. Their mothers had signed them up for the same dance classes, helped them get to the same summer carnivals, and let them have late nights in makeshift dens. Millie was one of the first people their dog, Tessa, got familiar with. She missed him dearly when he started his journey as a young actor, but Nikki made sure he always made the time to call his best friend when the time zones were somewhat cooperating. They nurtured their friendship through Millie’s education and Tom’s career, not stopping even for a moment. He was there for her always, carrying her home when she scratched her knee after falling off the slings. She would help him with homework whenever he felt too embarrassed to ask his parents. Tom escorted her home from her disaster of a prom; he was the first one to understand her anxiety and help her through it. And Millie always read the books and scripts Tom needed to prepare for auditions. Just like that, they always found home in one another.

Their house smelled of baking and freshly watered plants. As quietly as possible, Millie took off her shoes and tip-toed into the kitchen, turning on only the least invasive, small lights. She put down her backpack and lightly stretched, letting out a tired, yet content breath. Her eyes scanned the kitchen in search for the source of the sweet scent, and there it was, on a cooling rack in the corner, covered with a tea towel – fresh lemon sponge cake, the favourite of Millie’s mother. Lightly dusted with powdered sugar, it added an extra layer of sweet comfort to the late night’s atmosphere. She left the cake untouched, but put the kettle on to quickly make herself a cup of tea for a good night’s sleep. She let out an overwhelming yawn and rested her hips on the side of the countertop, patiently waiting for the water to boil.

She felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her jeans. The brightness of the screen was almost blinding, until it adjusted to the low lighting in the room. She could feel the anticipation growing in the back of her head as she noticed a new message.

(Tom) I got you something today

After a second or two, a picture loaded under the message. Millie gasped and smiled like mad, when he showed her a pair of Minnie Mouse sequin ears. It was an artefact that Millie has always dreamt of, not having an opportunity to go to Disneyland ever in her childhood. She awaited the chance with high hopes and wandering mind, but she knew the trip had to be thorough, well-planned, and wholesomely happy.

(Me) You were in Disneyland????

(Tom) yeah we did promo for spidey today

(Me) I’m so jealous rn

(Me) THANK YOU FOR THE EARS!!!!!

(Tom) it’s alright

(Tom) I didn’t get any weird looks at all

(Tom) Just casually carried around this shiny sparkling beauty

(Me) I bet you loved this feeling

(Me) I bet you bought yourself a pair too

(Tom) Don’t tell anyone

(Me) You could always pretend they’re for Tessa

(Me) I just saw her and your Dad btw

Whenever her and Tom texted, it always sparked a never-ending conversation about sweet nothings. They mocked each other, talked about their days, spoke about all things home. It allowed them a safe space from their daily hustles; Millie was able to breathe lightly and happily, and Tom had a chance to detach from the world he desperately tried not to drown in.

Almost spilling the tea, she slowly made it upstairs without losing the sight of her phone screen. She struggled to turn off the lights in the corridor without making a noise but somehow, she managed not to disturb her parents too much, as she reached her bedroom. Safe within her own little space, she put down the mug and let go of her backpack and jacket. She threw herself on the softest bedspread and waited patiently for Tom’s reply.

The text bubble stopped and a massage didn’t appear, but her phone started ringing. Millie answered the FaceTime call and waited for the camera on his phone to adjust and show his familiar face.

“I had a meeting with Disney and they want me to participate in one of their projects for a Marvel-themed ride at Disneyland,” from a crooked angle she could see his neatly gelled hair and uneven eyebrows. Tom was walking somewhere, but then sat down and perched his phone on the mug that stood on the coffee table, so that she could see him better.

“That’s exciting, right?”

“Oh, yeah!” She could see him rummage in a brown paper bag and pull out a box with some takeaway food. “But I’m telling you this because we could turn it into our Disneyland trip that you’ve wanted, right?”

“That would be nice, yeah.” She smiled back at the screen, but a terrible yawn sneaked in to her expression. Tom scrunched his forehead and took a large sip from a bottle of water.

“I didn’t wake you up now, did I?”

“No, I just came back home. I am tired, though.”

“Yeah? How was work?”

“Stressful and not nice. It wasn’t a good day.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

Tom spent the next minutes carefully listening to her words and trying not to spill his soup on his fresh clothes. He hummed to some of the stories and asked little intrusive questions, to get the whole picture. She kept rubbing at her eyes and stifling her yawns every now and then, at last making a mess of her mascara and getting it all over her skin. Despite the seriousness in her voice, Tom smiled fondly to himself at the view of her ruined face that probably mimicked her current mental state. It wasn’t something he should laugh about, but it was rather endearing to have her so comfortably sharing her lows with him, while he casually ate his lukewarm, very late lunch.

“Why are you laughing at me?” She returned his smile, knowing it was probably something she did.

“You made yourself look like panda.” He chewed on a chunk of chicken from his second plate. The wrinkles by his eyes deepened with each of her chuckles and proved to them that this is the lightness they need in their daily routines. “Well, it’s good you asked for a new placement. You should be comfortable in your work environment. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she yawned again and stopped herself mid-rubbing her eye again, earning a wholesome, groggy laugh from her friend, “your dad thinks they will give me another chance.”

“I mean, he knows some people there, so he probably has a point.”

“Yeah, I just don’t want to get my hopes up too high, you know?” A comfortable silence rested between them after he nodded and continued munching on his food. Millie stood up from her bed and took the phone with her, but also started to slowly get ready for the night.

“You will know when the moment feels right and shows you something worth a shot. Trust yourself, Mills.”

“I guess…” she trailed off, making her way to the closet to find fresh pyjamas. “I’m glad my panda face entertained your… what is it, lunch break?”

“Sort of, yeah,” he chuckled, enjoying the playfulness of her tired self, “I should be coming back in two weeks. We could hang out then, if you’ll have the time.”

“Oh, for sure.”

“Alright, I’ll let you rest. Text me anytime, yeah?”

“I will. Thanks for the Minnie ears!”

“You got it, Minnie Mouse. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

After her little mishap with Politics Live, Millie tried her best to keep up the hard work, but stay low. She tried not to focus too much attention and just assist other workers in their tasks, only coming up with ideas when necessary. She strived to come back to her public voice, but she knew she needed it to have a comfortable outlet, preferably in another setting and on different topics. She was greeting the intern manager with additional caution and kindness, trying her best not to leave her case forgotten.

Segregating files for the research team seemed to be the best solution to her temporary creative break. Her attention to detail and wholesome care about the task being done to its full potential came in handy. She volunteered to help the group of meticulously scribbling and researching men in keeping their documents in order.

The soft mumble of the radio in the background was interrupted by a guy named Tim. He always wore rock band t-shirts under his jackets and Millie swore she had seen him participate in a wild dance routine during the last year’s Glastonbury Festival. He stopped typing on his keyboard and started to quietly hum a song that was definitely different to what Scott Mills was announcing on Radio 1.

“Oh my God, do you guys know this song? I can’t get it out of my head!” he groaned in frustration, making a few people in the open space office chuckle.

“Do you know any words, maestro?” Millie’s head snapped up at the sound of Kim, the intern manager’s voice. She was passing by with a bunch of files and a coffee, before she perched herself on his desk, obviously making fun of her friend.

“It’s got this very cool, mariachi-like trumpet between the lines,” he mimicked a trumpet player and hummed some more, “and the guy sings something about stopping a feeling…”

“Justin Timberlake?”

“You know he’s not my jam, Kim! It’s an old-school song.”

“You’re the old-school one here.” Kim’s comment earned a couple more laughs at poor Tim, who was genuinely struggling. “you’re the researcher, have you googled it?”

“Of course I googled it, stop mocking me! People are watching.”

Their little light-hearted exchange brought a breezy atmosphere to the office and made Millie smile some more. She kept on looking up at Tim to check if he’s found the song he was looking for, but without luck. Her fingertips started to tingle with each swipe through the pages in a file, because she felt like she knew the song. Deciding to come against her decision to lay low, she gently cleared her throat and swallowed her nerves of speaking up in a new environment.

“Hey Tim, have you tried to find it on Spotify?” they both looked at Millie with playful smiles, as anyone would to the up and coming intern fresh out of university.

“I don’t think it’s the title of the song, so I won’t find it there.”

“But you actually could,” she offered, biting her lip nervously “since the recent update, you can now type in the lyrics into the search bar and the results will show you all licensed songs with the same or similar lyrics.” Tim instantly reached for his phone and started typing away.

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, let’s see…” Kim looked into his phone and watched his progress.

“And since you’ve remembered a catchy verse, it’s very possible that others also tried to find this song through the same words. So, it will probably come up within the first few results.”

“Alright, smarty.” He shook his head in amusement. Millie watched as Kim’s face got ridden of any emotion and just stared at Tim’s work.

“But if nothing comes up, you can always try ‘Hooked on a Feeling’ by Blue Swede.”

Millie waited with racing heart at their reactions. Tim clicked on one of the results and raised the volume, filling the room with a sound so familiar to Millie’s memory. She smiled shyly and internally patted herself on the back, before coming back to her task.

“How did you know this song?” His triumphant smile was radiating, as he did a little dance in his seat and twirled on his rolling chair. “It’s such an old tune, I didn’t think your generation would know it!”

“Yeah Millie, how did you know?” Kim encouraged his question and watched her carefully, almost as if she was studying her intern.

“It’s in the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy. I wrote a paper on it.”

“Hm.” Kim’s unreadable expression was giving Millie chills, but in a positive way. She liked to be asked about things that interested her and prompted her to be creative, so the way this situation evolved was close to burst her heart into passionate flames. “I’ll ask the Radio managers if they want a music and pop culture geek, how’s that sound?”

It sounded like Millie put the trust in herself at the right time.

****

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear@sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection@cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0 @spideyspeaches

If it bothers you that you’re tagged, please let me know!

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland x oc #mornings in Sheffield park #misp #tom holland fanfic #tom holland blurb

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whitesparrows97 · 4 years

Text

A Thousand Springs – Part 23

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, fluff, smut, fantasy

Summary: Life is short. Eternity is long. Why you in particular are approached by a super attractive man in a club, you did not understand. You understood even less why he wanted to kill you. Fortunately, seven young, also incredibly handsome men show up to help you with this little problem. Purely by coincidence, of course. Or do you really believe in fate?

Warnings: Explicit sexual content including fingering in public, risk of discovery, voyeurism, dirty talk, multiple partners, inappropriate dancing lol

Word Count: 5.2K

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(picture credit: photograph by Mok Jung Wook for TIME Magazine)

Every further meter you passed by car, your nervousness increased. Your hands were sweaty and you suppressed the need to wipe them on your expensive dress, so you just nervously clasped them together. A side glance at the other men showed you that they seemed to feel the other way around. Their excited conversations filled the car and, contrary to your thoughts, they didn’t say a word about the upcoming ball; and anything that might go wrong. You didn’t want to ruin your evening with negative thoughts – because who knew when you would get the next opportunity to go to such a big, boisterous event?

Still, the queasy feeling remained that something had to go wrong.

However, it wasn’t just David you were thinking about and who had shown you each time that he would show up exactly when it was most inconvenient. No, part of your nervousness was also that you had to engage in small talk with countless strangers in a few minutes. Apart from Jung-hee and Chin Ho and a few other somewhat familiar faces you had met in the corridor during your few visits to the company, you knew no one. For a brief moment you were reminded of situations from a few years ago when you were at a party where you only knew the host. And to be honest, you were also a bit worried if some of the guests would give you strange looks if they saw you with seven men. This thought hurt, and you pushed it back where it could gather dust in peace.

All further thoughts were interrupted by the view when you turned a corner with the car and headed straight for the building. Big spotlights shone on the huge building and immediately caught your attention. A long driveway led to the entrance of the building, which could be reached by a wide, long staircase. Hoseok slowed the car down and greeted a security guard standing at the secured gate to greet the guests. The interaction was brief, so a moment later you moved closer to the building. You looked out the window past Taehyung and your jaw almost dropped as you saw security standing every few feet, dressed in unobtrusive yet elegant black. It would be almost impossible to enter the compound without authorization.

Taehyung seemed to notice the change in your mood, and you saw from the corner of your eye how he gave you his typical boxy grin. Your hand found his, and he squeezed it once, as if to confirm that you had been worried for nothing. For a moment you lost yourself in the shadow plays that took place on his profile as his face was illuminated by the countless fairy lights and lamps that were installed in the trees that enclosed the driveway.

Hoseok stopped right in front of the grand staircase, and he hadn’t even turned off the engine when already an employee was standing next to the driver’s side with a friendly smile on his face, ready to take the keys and park the car. Jungkook and Taehyung both helped you out of the car and you were more than happy with the two arms you could hold on to. It had been months since you had worn high heels, so you had to get used to the extra centimeters of height and the unsteady walk. The men from the other car also gathered around you and immediately you became a little calmer. For a brief suspicious moment, your eyes fell on Yoongi. But he looked at the building in front of you and let his gaze glide over the few people who also made their way to the entrance. Music came towards you as you started to climb the stairs, as well as laughter and countless voices that were talking loudly. Apparently the people here were already having a good time, even though the ball had just started.

You felt someone looking at you and turned your head to the side, where your gaze directly met Namjoon’s. With a dimpled smile, he reached out his hand to you, which you accepted with thanks. The warmth he radiated and his large, pleasantly rough hands immediately filled you with a sense of comfort. You knew that you would survive this evening with the seven men at your side. And maybe, just maybe, you would even have some fun.

As you entered the building through the wide entrance, the volume nearly doubled and immediately the uneasy feeling came back. What would the other guests think about you? Were some disappointed when they saw you because they had imagined someone better? With these thoughts, you subconsciously hid behind Namjoon’s broad stature. Confused, he looked down at you over his shoulder. He let go of your hand only to wrap his around your hips and press you firmly to his side.

“Don’t go away, baby,” he said and pressed a kiss on your temple. As his full lips touched your skin, you pressed yourself a little further into his body. “You don’t have to hide. Not at all.”

You nodded as you continued to lean your head slightly against his shoulder, absorbing the surroundings around you. The building was relatively old; thick sandstone columns stood at the edge of the huge main room and supported the ceiling. Various lights hung from the meter-high ceilings, which illuminated the room in a pleasant, warm and soft light. On both sides there were different possibilities to sit and stand and you watched waiters and waitresses as they whizzed through the crowds of people offering trays of drinks and small appetizers. The center of the room was used as a dance floor and already countless people were dancing to the live music played by a DJ on a small elevated stage at the end of the dance floor.

“Wow,” you whispered and Namjoon’s chest bounced slightly as he laughed softly.

“You like it?”

You could only nod and let your gaze wander over the other guests, who were dressed just as fancy as you were, and were chatting animatedly in small groups. You had to look twice to be able to distinguish the security guards from the guests – only the inconspicuous and almost unnoticeable in-ear headphones, over which they were probably coordinating with the others, gave them away. Your gaze met that of the security guard, whom you had probably been watching for a second too long, and he nodded slightly at you. So slightly that when you looked away you wondered if he had really nodded at you. As you searched the room further, you discovered more and more of them. You didn’t count, but in every corner, on every side, as well as in the middle of the room… actually every few meters there was a security guard who did not let you out of their sight. Even from a distance, you could see how they moved their lips slightly and communicated with each other when they saw that you had arrived.

But your attention was suddenly captured by a small petite woman who appeared before you. A smile spread across your face as you recognized Jung-hee.

“Ahh, Y/N!” She greeted you with a radiant smile. She spread out her arms and pulled you into her embrace, just like at your last encounter. Again you were surprised how much strength she had, especially at her age, when her arms were pressing strongly against your back. When she let go of you, she looked down at you once. “Well, if you’re not an eye-catcher,” she remarked with a wink before she greeted the men with a small bow.

“Everything quiet so far?” Namjoon asked, who had detached himself from you. Jung-hee nodded before the two stepped out of your field of hearing. But immediately, a new arm had wrapped around your waist.

“Do you want something to drink?” Jin asked and barely waited for your answer when he had already taken two glasses from the tray of a waiter who had just passed you. He held out one of the glasses with the clear, presumably alcoholic, drink to you. That probably wasn’t such a bad idea – you would be lying if you said that you didn’t feel any looks on you. When you put the glass to your lips and the drink burned down your throat with a careful sip, you caught the occasional guest of the ball who quickly turned their gaze away from you as soon as your eyes met.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your other side as well. Yoongi let his thumb move in circles on your hip without turning his gaze towards you “Everything okay?” he asked, and at his question, Jin turned his head towards you.

“The looks make me a little nervous,” you honestly admitted, and when you put the glass to your lips, you realized that your drink was already empty.

“They only look at you because you look stunning,” Yoongi explained and took the empty glass from you.

“Still, they should hold back a bit with their glances,” said Jin, and you heard for the first time how his voice no longer sounded joyful and exuberant but almost chilly. “They should know that Y/N is here with us.”

The corners of your mouth twitched slightly upwards. “Is someone jealous?” you teased him and let your hand slide over his side.

He looked down at you, a sparkle in his eyes, as he answered you without batting an eyelid: “I don’t need to be jealous. I know that you belong to us and we belong to you.”

“Or maybe just because you have a little too much self-confidence,” Yoongi returned dryly. “By the way, some people also call that arrogance. Maybe you should look it up in the dictionary.”

“Yoongi-ah,” Jin whined over your head towards the younger one. “Don’t undermine my authority.”

“What authority?” you gave back and Yoongi snickered next to you.

“That’s my girl,” he said and pressed you closer to his side.

You watched as the other men had already spread out and made casual small talk with various small groups of people. You didn’t know how many employees knew about David – and the problems he was causing – but tonight nobody seemed to bother. Jin and Yoongi also left you after a while when you endured the first, somewhat awkward conversations. As nervous as you had been at first, you were relieved now. So far, everyone had welcomed you with a certain curiosity, almost nervousness, but never with resentment. That Yoongi had been standing next to you was probably more a tactic than a coincidence. But you were grateful for his emotional support.

Jungkook was the only one who still stood next to you and let his gaze glide over the guests incessantly. You wondered if he was looking for someone or was securing the situation. Sometimes you wondered if the seven ever really came to rest or were always on call.

“Hey,” you said softly and grabbed his hand to get his attention. Immediately his head rushed to you and he gave you a smile, which didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, a little too quickly and a little too enthusiastically. So you raised one eyebrow and he dropped his smile with a sigh. “I’m just not a fan of large gatherings,” he told you, and now you raised both eyebrows in surprise.

“Why not? They’re all your employees, you don’t have to be nervous.”

He shrugged his shoulders and you felt his grip around your hand tighten a little. “Many people in one place make me nervous. I quickly loose track and I don’t like that.”

You bridged the last distance between you and threw him a hopefully encouraging smile. “I’m here with you, so there’s no need to be nervous.”

He returned your smile and this time you could see that it was real when you saw the little wrinkles around his eyes. He put his free hand on your hip and pulled you towards him. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair and pressed a kiss on your head. His voice was almost drowned out by the music and the other guests.

“Hey you two,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you and you and Jungkook flinched. You broke away from each other and you looked to the side, only to see Chin Ho, who looked at you apologetically. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” he apologized for his interruption. “I just wanted to check if Y/N was okay.”

“Oh,” Jungkook said quietly, and your gaze fell on his lower lip, which he bit as if holding back the rest of the sentence. Without paying any further attention to Chin Ho, he turned his gaze back to the crowd.

You looked at Jungkook a moment longer before smiling gratefully at Chin Ho. His eyes flitted nervously back and forth between the two of you and he seemed to realize that now was not the perfect time to ask you about your well-being. “I am fine, Chin Ho. Thanks for asking.”

He dismissed your thanks with a wave of his hand. “I think you’re forgetting that this is my job,” he laughed and as he shook his head, smiling, a few strands of dark hair came loose from his bun. When he looked up again, his eyes glowed. “But it’s good to see that you’re handling it so well. That was some pretty rough stuff that David pulled at the mall.”

Not a minute, hell, not even a second went by that you weren’t reminded of the man. As if he was lurking in the shadows, waiting for you to take a step too far away from the light, only to pull you towards him in the darkness. You tried not to hold it against Chin Ho. As he had rightly said, that was his job. Probably he too was constantly thinking of David and how he could guarantee your safety. But you just wanted a relaxed evening without thinking about David. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was.

“Well,” Chin Ho said after a brief uncomfortable silence when you didn’t answer, “I just wanted to ask how you were doing. But I am reassured. Then have a nice evening, maybe we’ll run into each other again,” he said goodbye with a short wave and went to the next group of people with whom he immediately had an animated conversation. You were a bit jealous that it was so easy for him to have conversations with other people. On the other hand, he worked with these people and probably saw them daily. Not like you, for whom all those people were strangers.

You heard Jungkook laughing next to you and when you turned your head towards him, you saw how he shook his head with a grin.

“What?” you asked with a little smile on your lips.

“I guess it’s already time,” he just said and nodded his chin in one direction. You followed his gaze and almost had to laugh out loud as you saw none other than Hoseok, Jin and Taehyung on the dance floor, throwing their arms in the air. A circle had formed around them with people watching the three and laughing as well. Your highlight was definitely Jin, who apparently didn’t care a bit about what others thought of him as he circled his hips.

Still with a smile on your lips, your eyes fell on Hoseok and looked directly into his eyes. Even from a distance, you saw a diabolical grin spread on his lips before he said something to Taehyung. A moment later, he came up to you and Jungkook. You knew what he was going to do even before he started walking and you tried to pull Jungkook with you, as long as it was away from Hoseok. But Jungkook laughed and he seemed like a block of immobile cement – he didn’t move an inch.

“Sorry, Y/N, but there is no escape,” he said, clasping your hand tighter as you tried to get away from him.

“I need alcohol to do this,” you mumbled as you realized that there would be no way out of the situation and kept a lookout for a waiter. You briefly raised your hand when you saw one a few meters away from you and he immediately rushed to you. “Thanks,” you said without really looking at him and reached for a full glass.

“Oh dear,” Jungkook murmured next to you as the waiter had disappeared and you looked at him angrily.

“You have nothing to say here, Jeon Jungkook. You won’t let me go, you’re lucky I don’t drag you along.”

Jungkook smiled at you as you said that. “Who said I’m staying here?” Then he pulled you forward and walked towards Hoseok who was still striding towards you. Hoseok grabbed your free arm and pulled you onto the dance floor. His grip made it difficult to take a sip of the drink, but you almost sighed as you felt the soothing burning in your throat and the light haze spreading in your head.

Jin and Taehyung cheered loudly when they saw you, and when your eyes fell on Taehyung, you were reminded of the night you two first met. There, too, you had preferred to wait at the bar instead of going dancing with Alison and giving David the opportunity to…

Okay – stop.

You paused when you noticed in which direction your thoughts were going. You would have fun today no matter what happened. If something bad would happen in the next few hours, at least you would use the time now to let go of the stress and tension of the last weeks and months. And you would do all this right now, in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by hundreds of guests.

You poured the measly remaining content of your drink down your throat and pressed the empty glass into Jungkook’s hand. He looked at you amused and Taehyung whispered something in his ear, which made the younger one smile. Before you could ask what was so funny, Hoseok took your hand and raised your intertwined fingers in the air. You had to laugh as you turned around yourself when he asked you to, and you heard him join in your laughter over the loud music.

He put both hands on your hips and with a short jerk pulled you tightly to his chest. You pressed your palms against his hard chest and when you looked up at him, your cheeks were burning. Whether it was the sudden proximity to Hoseok or the alcohol that had finally entered your bloodstream, you didn’t know. Hoseok guided you into a slow rhythm with his hands, rocking you gently from side to side. As you turned your head to the side, you saw how Jungkook and Jin were no longer standing next to you, but had disappeared into the crowd. As you turned to the other side to look at Taehyung, you suddenly felt another pair of hands on your hips.

“Are you looking for me?” Taehyung whispered and his hot breath on your ear made you shiver. You felt his soft lips curl into a knowing grin before he nibbled on your earlobe a second later. Surprised, you sucked in the air and buried your hands in Hoseoks hair. You didn’t notice his gasp, all your attention was on Taehyung’s teeth and lips. “Still as sensitive as I remembered. It’s been far too long since the last time.”

You dropped your head backwards on his shoulder, closed your eyes and nodded. How right he was. The intense kisses from Namjoon just before you left for the ball had left you hot and ready. Before you knew it, a soft moan had fallen over your lips.

“Fuck, baby,” you heard Hoseok say, who seemed to be just inches away from you with his face. “We haven’t even started yet.” You heard the grin in his voice and when you opened your eyes again to glare at him, the next song began. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the crowd rush onto the dance floor and devour you three in anonymity. The slightly dimmed light and the many people around you made you both braver and more nervous. You blurred in the crowd, but at the same time there was a chance that more pairs of eyes were on you.

The two men didn’t seem to mind, though.

Hoseok’s grip around your hips tightened and he pulled you even closer against his chest, so that your faces almost met. The desire in your abdomen grew from second to second and you didn’t waste a second more pressing your lips against his. Taehyung murmured something incomprehensible behind you and pressed himself harder against your back. You gasped as you felt his erection on your ass and Hoseok took the opportunity to let his tongue slide into your open mouth which he explored extensively.

Meanwhile, Taehyung embraced the middle of your body and locked you tightly between his and Hoseok’s bodies. You felt a leg pushing between your feet and interrupted the intense kiss with Hoseok to look between your two bodies. Hoseok reached under your chin with one finger and focused your attention on him again.

“Wanna have some fun?” he asked and you were only able to understand him over the loud music because he was not even five inches away from you. His grin spoke volumes about what he meant by fun and excitement spread between your legs as your thoughts drifted to various scenarios.

You nodded and the two men immediately understood. Hoseok led you with his firm grip into a steady rhythm to the music and pushed you down slightly. Your core slid over his thigh in a slow, intense movement and you bit your lower lip painfully to suppress the moan. You were sure that at least those around you would have heard you moaning. You felt Taehyung’s fingers loosen from the middle of your body as he let one hand slide down your side instead. For a brief moment you paused in your movement as you felt his long fingers against your naked skin on your thigh, at the point where the slit in your dress began.

“Does it turn you on that people can watch us do this?” Taehyung whispered into your ear from behind you and let his fingers slide under your dress before he grabbed your thigh. His fingertips stroked the inside of your thigh and you felt like you were going to pass out at any moment, so quickly the blood shot into your abdomen. Your clit was almost throbbing, as were your inner walls, which contracted around nothing. Hoseok helped you get back into your rhythm and this time you couldn’t suppress the broken, soft moans when you felt Hoseok’s muscular leg against your core. You pulled him closer, wrapped your arms around his neck again and put your head on his shoulder. You had the feeling you needed that support, otherwise your legs would give way under you any moment, that’s how shaky you felt. Besides, this way the view of you would be somewhat obscured by Hoseok’s body.

“Good girl,” Hoseok whispered in your ear. You buried your face in his shoulder, which muffled your sounds as he moved your hips back and forth over and over again across his thigh.

“Is that appropriate for a ball like this?” you asked, your voice already rough from arousal.

But Hoseok laughed. “What should they do? Fire us?” With this statement, Hoseok stopped moving even though his grip did not loosen. Instead, you felt Taehyung’s fingers, which had not moved any further before and had only gripped your thigh tightly. Now, however, he started to let his hand slowly move further up. The slit of the dress was high, almost a bit too obtrusive, so Taehyung didn’t need much before he arrived at your thong. The thong that uncomfortably stuck to you because you were so wet.

“Shall we give Namjoon a little show?” Taehyung asked and confused, you turned your head to the side. Your blood almost froze in your veins as your gaze fell directly on the young man leaning relaxed against the bar counter. But even from a distance, you saw that this was just a masquerade. His fingers almost clawed into the glass, so tightly he had enclosed it. The look with which he looked back at you almost pierced through you, and you could see from here how he pressed his jaws tightly together. He almost looked angry.

“Is this a good idea?” you therefore asked. You didn’t want to upset Namjoon. What if he cared about your reputation? Most people here you met for the first time and you were not sure if it would be a good first impression if they saw you like this. And also all the people you knew… Jung-hee, Chin Ho – what if they saw you? Would they say anything? Or would they just look away quickly? Your stream of thoughts was interrupted by Hoseok, who stroked your side with his thumb.

“Trust me, baby, Namjoon is enjoying the show. Even though he doesn’t look like it.”

“So he’s not mad because someone might be watching us?” you asked, and your voice sounded muffled as you buried your head in Hoseok’s shoulder again because you couldn’t stand Namjoon’s gaze any longer.

It was Taehyung this time who laughed softly behind you and gave you a kiss on the back of the head. “Mad? He probably has to pull himself together not to come here and do it himself. He probably wants to show everyone that you are ours and show them things, do things with you, that they can never do with you.”

“Oh God,” you mumbled and wanted to squeeze your legs together to get some friction on your clit. But Hoseok’s leg was still between yours and Taehyung also clicked his tongue and pushed your legs further apart.

“Suddenly you can’t wait anymore, can you?” Taehyung asked, bringing his fingers into direct contact with your clothed opening. You gripped Hoseok’s shoulders tighter while a soft whimpering came over your lips. “What was that, Jagi?”

His slender fingers pushed your thong to the side and glided over your labia as they spread your moisture. Your eyes fell on Namjoon. You wanted to know if he was watching you and if Hoseok and Taehyung were right. When you saw how his gaze was firmly focused on the middle of your body, eyes slightly narrowed, you knew that they might have even underestimated him. And this thought, this certainty, unleashed something in you that you had never experienced before. At least not with this intensity.

You waited until he lifted his gaze, before you smiled at him from a distance. It was a light, almost shy smile while you still had your head on Hoseok’s shoulder. Then you released one arm and let it fall down and Namjoon followed the movement with a blank face. Then you also reached through the slit under your dress and grabbed Taehyung’s wrist. He wanted to pull his hand back, misinterpreted your grip at first, but you pressed it tighter between your legs. Taehyung moaned softly as he pressed a finger closer to your opening. You were sure that Namjoon saw at least something. Two hands under your dress made the slit reveal even more than it already did, and the dancing people around you showed him a glimpse of you every now and then.

“You’re enjoying this a little more than I thought, baby,” Hoseok noticed and let his fingertips slide across your back. You shivered, and at the same time Taehyung let his finger slip into you. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth opened in a choked moan, while all your concentration lay on Taehyung’s long finger that pushed deeper and deeper into you. As you felt his knuckles between your legs, he began to curl his finger inside you and pressed it against the slightly rough part of you.

“Tae,” a surprised moan slipped away from you and Taehyung took this as an incentive to let his finger slip out of you again. You managed to open your eyes again to look at Namjoon. He had placed his glass behind him on the counter while his gaze was still firmly fixed on you. When he made sure that you were looking at him, he briefly palmed himself. The movement was short and quick, so probably no one but you had noticed it. Outsiders might think he only had to adjust himself.

But you knew better. You saw the short grin that appeared on his lips before your eyes fell close again as Taehyung penetrated you with his finger again.

“If we had known that this would turn you on so much when someone was watching you, Jimin would certainly not have sent us away last time,” Hoseok said.

“That’s good to know, isn’t it, Hyung?” Taehyung’s voice sounded strained as he moved his finger in you faster. His palm pressed gently on your clit and you felt Taehyung pushing your arousal out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Just the thought of your moisture dripping down his fingers caused your inner walls to contract. Immediately, you felt Taehyung’s fingers even more intensely rubbing you from within.

“Please let me come, Tae,” you asked and pressed him harder into you with a strong grip around his wrist.

“I think Namjoon will get angry if he isn’t the one,” Hoseok remarked, and you were already complaining when you suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder. Your eyes sprang open and Namjoon stood in front of you. Taehyung’s finger inside you stopped moving and you let go of his wrist. Now that he was standing right in front of you, you could see his pupils dilated and the few drops of sweat that had formed on his forehead.

“You’re absolutely right,” he said and his voice sounded even deeper than usual. Taehyung’s finger slipped out of you and you whimpered softly as you suddenly felt empty. Namjoon grabbed your hand which was just hanging lifelessly next to you and Hoseok and Taehyung took this as a signal to let you go.

“Should we let Jin know?” Hoseok asked and Namjoon nodded. Immediately, another wave of nervousness and excitement came over you.

“Send him to the back in half an hour. Not earlier.” And with these words, he grabbed your hand and pulled you off the dance floor.

Written 2019-2021. Do not copy, translate or repost without permission.

I’m really sorry to end this chapter at this point! But the chapter is already quite long (it would have been over 10k if I wouldn’t have split it here). But I promise to post the next chapter sooner as this one, so you won’t have to wait as long!

As always, every comment, reblog or ask means a lot to me! I’m actually kind of sad seeing that every new chapter of this story decreases in notes. I mean, I get it – it’s a long story and everything, but still... it makes me questioning whether I should use the little time I have for writing for other projects. But on the other hand I’m pretty sure there are only around ten chapters more to come. Ah, I don’t know what to do. Anyway, I hope you’re having a great week and are staying healthy! See you soon! 💜

Tag list:

@oddly-drawn-muse @yoongiismytruelove @btsmysteriestolove @unicorntrooper @crazy-fangirl-10 @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @lyricstae @aretha170 @yoongisdumplingcheeks @bangtxnbxunch @brokencrownqueen @dont-hyuck @xanny91 @peaches-422 @kimmie113080 @madisonred88 @peachy-bhun @y-0-u-n-g-b-l-0-0-d @squeakermarie @lauren2408 @kalkeegan @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh @just-a-little-teapot13 @rosexbangtan @fawnzilla @pieislife @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @kookiebbyxx

#bts x reader #bts smut #bts x you #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagine #poly!bts x reader #bts fic

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theawkwardterrier · 3 years

Text

Blossoms Every Day

Summary: When you work at a flower shop requests for elaborate bouquets are just part of the job. Requests for bouquets this specific, on the other hand...

The other of my rejected Steggy Secret Santa stories. I was looking for AU tropes to play around with, thought of flower shop...and immediately began to write it in the weirdest way possible.

Read on AO3

After three years of being the only employee of Asters to Zinnias other than Michaela, the owner, you are fairly familiar with the peaks and valleys of the business. Valentine’s Day is big, of course (and the day or two afterward are even bigger for more elaborate apology arrangements) but considering the shop’s proximity to the university campus, there’s also an uptick in sales around graduation time and about a month after the fall semester starts each year, when the kids who’d met and fallen for each other at orientation have their first tiny anniversary.

Summer and winter breaks, though, are generally...well, you don’t want to call them dry spells because it would give Michaela an onset of migraine face, but they’re certainly less busy. That’s why on a drizzly Wednesday morning at the beginning of January, you feel certain enough about having the shop to yourself that, while you dust the vases behind the counter, you have your earbuds in playing an episode of the soothingly-voiced serial murder podcast you love.

The volume is turned up pretty loud, so you don’t hear the bell over the door (don’t tell Michaela) or the approaching customer’s footsteps, or your own shocked squeak when you turn to water the spider plant on the counter and find someone standing there.

“Sorry,” you gasp, pausing mid-murder description and hastily shoving your earbuds into your pocket. “How can I help you?”

There’s something of a stunned look on the man’s face, and he stares for a moment as if he doesn’t quite know how to answer the question and would have preferred you stay oblivious to him for another few moments while he gathered his thoughts.

Finally he says, “I—I think I need a recommendation. Can you think of what flowers would say ‘welcome to campus’ to a really smart visiting professor in the history department who specializes in European women's and gender history in the mid-nineteenth to mid-twentieth centuries?” And then, as if he wants to make sure you have every bit of information which might be helpful, he adds, “Her last book was an amazing collection of oral histories about women in the UK during World War II.”

You’ve picked out plenty of arrangements for people who didn’t know daffodil from a delphinium, for students who’ve walked in asking simply for “something pretty,” and you consider yourself pretty quick on your feet at this point. After a moment of staring, you offer weakly, “A nice plant always brightens up a new office. Maybe bamboo, for good luck?”

He walks out with his potted bamboo twenty minutes later. You spent two minutes wrapping the pot. He spent eighteen writing and rewriting cards. Hopefully the professor really likes bamboo.

Two days later, a woman walks in, comes right over to where you’re finishing up a new baby bouquet to send over to the hospital, and asks for “something to show gratitude for making me feel welcome. An arrangement expressing appreciation for brightening up my office.”

“Oh,” she adds, “and his eyes are a lovely shade of blue, if you have something that might suit.”

Holding back a groan, you start to offer some options. Apparently she liked the bamboo well enough.

You don’t see either of them for three weeks, long enough for you to have told the story to Michaela then to a couple of friends over beers, long enough that the pair of them are fading into a slightly amusing anecdote.

The man shows up just after you’ve come back from lunch break. You’re still wiping a few tricky crumbs off your sweater as he tells you that he’s looking for something that says “sorry about that horrible meeting, and here’s hoping for less exposure to jerks in the future - although since too many of them are tenured, I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Sunflowers are cheerful?” you suggest. “Maybe mixed with some tulips or snapdragons, plus white poppies - they symbolize consolation - and some greenery?”

He’s pretty young, probably too young for tenure or a significant salary, and you can see that his dark, tidy dress pants are getting a bit soft around the hems, but he doesn’t back down when you quote the price.

That evening, when it’s dark and the wind is blowing chill outside and you sit at the counter with your face in your hand dreaming of getting out of here and going home to hot soup and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders like a cloak, there’s a call on the store’s phone. You hadn’t talked to the woman long enough in person for her voice to be familiar, but you have no doubt as to the identity of the person requesting a “thank you for speaking up to our terrible colleagues” bouquet.

The thing is that they never seem to show up or call when Michaela or any of the regular customers are around, or when any of the neighboring shopkeepers are popping in for a break and to share some gossip. You’re the only one who ever sees or speaks with them. Every month that the receipts tally with the inventory, you have a flash of relief at this small proof that they actually exist.

But this means that it’s up to you to suggest red tulips to represent “those journal reviewers were idiots to turn your paper down” and yellow poppies for “congratulations on the high average on your students’ last exam.” You’re the one charged with making arrangements in honor of “I had a great time at trivia last night,” and “best wishes on your sports team making the championship, even though I’m sorry you can’t be at the game,” and “you looked like you were a bit down yesterday,” and “that book you recommended was so great that I’ve already started on the sequel,” and “sorry I was short with you in the hall this morning, my neighbors threw a raging party last night even though it was 2:30 on a Wednesday.” In April, you help choose the three most perfect crimson roses in the shop to add to a birthday bouquet of calla lilies and orchids, and you don’t say anything about how the shade reminds you of a certain hue of lipstick or about what everyone knows red roses mean.

You’ve kept up with your schoolwork through it all, acquitted yourself nicely. Graduation day is approaching quickly now. But somehow, between helping Michaela find your replacement among the newer students and saying a slow goodbye to all your campus haunts, you can’t help but wonder how things will end for your two most politely irritating regular customers. Visiting professors aren’t meant to stay, after all.

The arrangement you put together in early May, tiger lilies and sweet peas and irises, is the largest yet. You’ve been told that it’s meant to say “I’m sorry that you can’t stay, but I know that there’s something amazing waiting for you,” although the sadness is obvious in his eyes as you hand it over. Nevertheless, he thanks you sincerely for all your help.

“I’m sure you’re glad not to have to see me anymore,” he jokes. You shake your head. Once, maybe, you would have secretly agreed, but in a certain way you’ve come to look forward to the challenge that only these two seem to give you. More than that, you’ve enjoyed seeing two people so eager to demonstrate their affection for each other. They seem to have said more with flowers over these last months than most people say with words in a lifetime; sometimes you wonder if they even have to speak when they encounter each other.

With a last smile, he turns to go, just as the bell above the door jingles, and she steps through.

“Peggy,” comes the surprised exhalation. You can’t see his face, although you can imagine the widened eyes, the parting of his mouth. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” The enormous bouquet in its vase lowers just a bit, so they can look each other in the face over your handiwork.

“Steve. Hello,” she says, surprised too but covering it better. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before our schedules overlapped here.”

You’ve seen people grin and shriek and tear up when presented with flowers before, but there’s something entirely new about the particular quiet tenderness with which they are regarding each other. It sort of makes you want to just stand quietly and perhaps hold the hand of someone you love.

“Your order is ready,” you say instead, hefting her vase forward onto the counter, filled with primroses, violets, and camellias. And before you can think better of it, before you can imagine what Michaela would say, you add, “One ‘Thank you for everything. If you ask me, I’ll find a way to stay’ bouquet, as requested.”

For a minute, nothing moves, and in the drowning silence you wonder if your last memory of this job is going to be filled with shouting and humiliation and demands to speak to your manager. But instead their eyes seem to shift into deeper focus on each other, as if you aren’t even there.

“Do you really—” he swallows, voice somehow even softer as he continues. “You don’t usually say things you don’t mean.”

“No,” she responds. “And I’m not now. They offered to have me stay on, if I want to.”

“But Cambridge—You can’t just tell Cambridge to go screw themselves.” The vase in his hands seems to be preventing him from gesturing the way he wants to, but he holds himself very still and her eyes don’t leave his.

She laughs a bit. “Of course not, but I can tell them that there are greater opportunities available to me here.” She places a hand on his arm. “And Steve? To be clear, I don’t simply mean academic ones.”

And suddenly the spotlight turns back onto you as he turns abruptly and says, “Can you send these over to the hospital instead? I don’t know that I need them anymore.” As you give a quick nod, somewhat shocked by the rapid turn of events, he strides over to set the vase gently back onto the counter beside hers.

“You can deliver mine there as well,” she tells you. “I think this is the sort of conversation you have in words rather than plants.” She steps forward and extends her hand. He glances at it, at her face, then intertwines his fingers with hers. The bell jingles behind them as they step out the door together.

A year later, you’re waiting for your lunch order at the specialty salad place near your new job when your phone vibrates with a text. You’d given your number to your replacement just in case you were needed to shed light on the location of the fancy twine or what to get Michaela at Starbucks when she was groaning over the January billing, after the holiday sales had dropped off and before the Valentine’s orders had started coming in. This is the first time it’s been used.

What in the world do I put in a proposal bouquet that’s meant to symbolize “You are the best, most brilliant woman in the world, someone who knows herself better than anyone I’ve ever met. I can’t fully describe when you are to me and I’d wait for you forever, but if you’re ready, I would love to be married to you”???????

You give a shout of a laugh, right there in the crowd, not caring about the glances thrown your way or the call of your name at the pickup area. You’re too busy typing back: Okay, you’re going to want to have orange blossoms in there…

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #why am I like this???

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honeypirate · 3 years

Text

So.. do you like jazz?

Hinawa x fem!reader

Hinawa taglist- @soft-citrus-central

Your heart is racing as the time approaches. Your band playing soft jazz as background music before the performance. You’re adjusting your dress as the stage lights dim and they announce it’s time and people cheer.

You’ve had this jazz club for a few months and although it’s still relatively new it’s got quite a crowd already. Packed every single night and doing even better than you anticipated, all because of your singing and the way Asakusa loved your grandfather who the club was named after.

The lights go out and you make your way on stage, your band behind you getting into their place and you notice your trombone player, Richter, was missing. you send a look Will behind the bar who mouths that he’ll find out as you place your right hand on the microphone.

The spotlight hits you and the crowd goes quiet as you start to sing the opening song

“I hear music when I look at you. A beautiful theme of every dream I ever knew. Down deep in my heart. I hear a play I feel it start then melt away I hear music when I touch your hand a beautiful melody from some enchanted land”

In the middle of your song, your eyes catch the stairs as two men enter, you watch as they take off their jackets as the reach the bottom step, their eyes on you as you finish the chorus.

The man with glasses finds a table in the middle of the room, sitting down all the while his eyes on you. His darker haired friend heads to the bar and comes back with tall beers as your first song ends, cheers as the lights dim again.

You sit at the piano, your dress swishing against the stool as your hands rest against the cool keys. One of your backstage guys, Matt, sets up your microphone as the spot light turns on you again.

“Thank you all for coming” you say with a little chuckle as Matt whispers in your ear about a song switch since the Richter was running late. You nod to him and cover the mic as you whisper back thanking him for telling you.

“Sorry about that” you say back to the crowd and start to play the melody to your song as you talk to them.

“Many of you know my trombone player, Richter. He’s going to be late so I’ll have to change this next song. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do” your eyes land on the handsome men and you wink at the one in glasses before changing the melody and beginning your song.

Hinawa was blown away by your performance. Your voice he heard from the street was magical, calling him directly to his soul as he walked down the steps. When you spoke at the piano, your voice was as melodic and sweet as your singing. He felt electric and he couldn’t look away from you on the stage. You’ve captivated him, giving him the sweetest feeling that his heart hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss. I’m longing to linger till dawn dear. Just saying this. Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams whatever they be dream a little dream of me.”

When your fingers release the keys and you pull your foot back, your skin tingles with the adrenaline from hearing cheers for you.

“Richter!” You hears cheers from the other side of the room and you smirk, looking up and seeing him walking quickly through the crowd as people chuckled. “Glad you could make it” you tease in the mic and the room laughs as he just shakes his head and rolls his eyes with a smile as he sets up his instrument.

Your eyes keep finding the handsome man with the glasses throughout your performance, his laughter finding your ears when you would joke and his claps were the loudest. It made your heart flutter and your cheeks blush, you’ve never seen someone so obviously blown away by you and it was enough to fluster you.

At the end of your last song the crowd cheers and you smile with a small bow. “Let’s hear it for the band!” You say with a smile and gesture behind you, the cheers twice as loud as before.

“Thank you all for coming! I’m here every weekend! I’d love it if you came back again” you say with a smile, looking into handsome glasses eyes before the spotlight turns off and the normal club lights come back on as you hand your mic to Matt as you walk off the stage. Your band changing back to play soft music for the rest of the night.

When you get to the bar you see that the handsome men now have some of the fire shoulders with them and you guessed they were from another company.

“Hey get me another round of what table 21 has and tell me who they belong to also get me the captains and Konros usual” you say to Will and he nods, pulling up a tray and glasses, pouring them and placing them so you can serve.

“How are my Soldiers doing tonight?” You say and place glasses starting with Captain Benimaru and Konro then the two you don’t know.

Konro answers you first “Hey y/n. Amazing performance as usual. But we didn’t..” you smile as you place the tray under your arm “on me tonight” you say “to show my appreciation for your support”

Benimaru picks up his glass “since it’s free” he says and you chuckle

“I dont believe I’ve met you boys though” you say and hold out your hand “y/n l/n. This is my club”

No glasses takes your hand first and you learn his name is Obi and he’s like a cute puppy dog. Glasses takes your hand and you feel actual sparks and warmth against your palm. “Hinawa Takehisa” he says and his deep stern voice sends tingles down your spine “so you’re the lieutenant of theee???eighth?” You guess, his hand still in yours and he nods with a smirk “good guess. Obi here is the Captain.” Your hand is still in his but it isn’t shaking any longer and his eyes were so intense you kind of loved it

“you know what they say about Lieutenants though, don’t you?” You ask and move closer to him with a playful smile

He moves closer to you and smirks “what do they say?”

You sigh with a smile and let your gaze fall to his lips for a moment as you lean in close before you say “they are...” you pull back “really good at paperwork”

Obi laughs hard and you get a chuckle from Beni which was more than you ever got. Hinawa smirks and you give his hand a squeeze before letting it go, William coming and getting your attention, whispering into your ear.

“Sorry Soldiers, duty calls” you meet Hinawa’s eyes “I hope I’ll being seeing you again soon Hinawa” you say with a smile and then add “you too Captain” with a little salute before making your way back to your office to handle problems with deliveries.

The next night, as you’re slipping into your performance dress in your office, you see in the security feed the Lieutenant that’s been running through your head all day, walk through the door with a little smile on his lips and his Captain on his heels.

You slip on your shoes and fix your lipstick before heading out to the floor, last night you went to him, let’s see what he’s got tonight.

You walk to the bar, pretending not to notice them as you talk to William behind the bar. Taking the inventory list he’s been working on and talking about what we’re out of and what cocktails he should push.

You make a note on the inventory sheet as Hinawa walks up, ordering drinks for him and Obi. You smile as you finish your note then look up and make eye contact.

“Welcome back Lieutenant” you say and he smiles softly “thank you. I’m excited to be back” he says sounding monotone and not at all excited, dry but with a smirk and a glint in his eye, which you found amusing.

“So.. do you like jazz?” You ask with a joke in your tone and he laughs with air out his nose and rose his eyebrows as he looked at you like you were adorably amusing

“Yes. It’s my favorite music” he says as he slips his cash on the bar as Will puts his drinks down.

“I’ll see you after your performance” he says and you grin “I’ll be looking forward to it Lieutenant”

“The crowds just a bit bigger tonight” you say and a get a few cheers “I’m honored. Thank you. This is my last song, dedicated to a..” you smile and make eye contact with Hinawa “a handsome Lieutenant”

“Moon river wider than a mile I’m crossing you in style some day you dream maker you heart breaker wherever you’re going I’m going your way”

You exit the stage, holding your skirt in your hand so you don’t step on it and you can see Hinawa stand in your peripheral vision.

You get the hallway that leads to your office as Hinawa reaches you.

“You’re amazing” he says and you laugh “I’m glad I give off that first impression. You should get to know me before you praise me though” you say and smirk up at him as you both walk towards your office.

“Then let me take you to dinner” he says and you smile, stopping outside your office “when?”

He hums for a moment “right now”

You look into his eyes with a smirk as you think about it. You’ve finished your paperwork and you have more than enough employees on the floor. Your assistant manager is competent. You nod as your smile grows “okay. Let me change first. Can you get my zipper?” You ask and turn around, moving your hair away from the dress.

He swallows hard and hesitated for just a second before his strong warm hands slowly unzip your dress, his fingers stopping at the bottom of your spine.

You turn around and smile up at him again “Ten minutes and I’m all yours Lieutenant” you say and softly close your door on him.

“I’m happy for you man!” Obi says as he slaps Hinawa’s shoulder as he puts on his jacket “I didn’t think she’d say yes if I’m being honest” he says with a laugh and Hinawa just rolls his eyes “yeah yeah” he says and then sees you walk out of the back hallway.

You meet his eye and smile softly and he feels his cheeks flush as he adds “I’ll meet you back in a few hours, I’ll drive home you can have the rest of my beer” before he walks over to you and takes your hand. “I hope you like sushi” he says and you squeeze his hand “well good thing I LOVE sushi!” You say with a cute grin and his heart skips.

Obi watches with a smile and shakes his head, he was happy for his best friend for finding someone who seemed to be perfect for him. He raises his beer to their backs, hoping for the best, before taking a drink.

You don’t know how long you spent at the sushi restaurant down the block. You got small orders of lots of things that you shared, both discovering new sushi to love and getting more comfortable with each other.

After leaving the restaurant, he offers you his elbow and you hold on to his bicep with a fluttering heart and warm cheeks. You spent the last two hours eating sushi and joking around like close friends, it was nice and fun but right now it felt like a different atmosphere.

The sky was dark and there wasn’t many people on the street as you walked slowly down the sidewalk, the quiet air between you sweet and comfortable.

“What made you want to open a jazz club?” He asks and you chuckle and smile up at him, eyes full of happiness as you say “my grandfather loved jazz and we used to listen to it tigether. I always loved it since I was a kid and so I made the club in memorial to his love for jazz and for me. He left me money in his will and it just seemed right” the breeze blows and you hold his arm closer with a shiver.

He holds your hands in his opposite one as he wraps the arm you were holding around your shoulders, holding you closer and his unzipped jacket coming around your side a little and enveloping you in his warmth.

“Jazz was a thing my father and I liked” he says with a smile and you wrap your arm that was against him up on his back under his jacket as he holds your other hand. “He would have loved your club and I’m positive your grandfather would be proud” he says with a firm nod and intense eyes and you smile up at him “thank you Hinawa”

You get back to your club and Obi honks the matchbox truck horn slightly to get Hinawa’s attention.

“Will I see you again, Lieutenant?” You ask with a flirty smile as you wrap your other arm around him in a hug

“Whenever you want” he says quietly and tucks your hair behind your ear

“I’m free Wednesdays and Thursdays” you watch as he smiles and it makes your heart flutter

“Wednesday then. I’ll pick you up at seven” he says and you can’t help the genuine grin that takes you over “I’ll be looking forward to it” you say softly and his eyes flick to your lips.

You hope he kisses you but when he doesn’t seem to be going to move you lean up on your tip toes and kiss his cheek, hugging him tight and sighing happily next to his ear “goodnight Hinawa. Be safe” you whisper with a smile in your voice and then let him go and turn to walk away.

He grabs your hand and pulls you back to him, a gasp leaving your throat as his hand gently cups your cheek and presses his lips to yours.

You melt into him and he deepens the kiss, holding you to his chest as your lips move together. It was soft and sweet, not too short of a peck and not a make out, the most romantic and breathtaking kiss you’ve ever been graced with.

“Goodnight y/n” he says and kisses your forehead before he lets you go and starts walking towards his truck.

You giggle and wave with your fingers at him as he gets in his truck and starts the engine, Obi saying something slurred you didn’t understand as the truck door shuts.

You head back into the club with a small happy squeal as they drive off, your lips still tingling from his kiss making your stomach fill with butterflies as you walk slowly down the stairs.

#hinawa fanfiction #hinawa imagines #hinawa x y/n #hinawa x you #hinawa takehisa x reader #fire force hinawa #hinawa x reader #lieutenant hinawa #takehisa hinawa #en en no shōbōtai #en en no shobotai #en en no shobotai hinawa #very unedited

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Putting on Hairs: Patronizing Meeting

Primary Pairing? Trio?: MariKana... Dia? Hinted: RinPana, KotoUmi? Words: ~2.1k Rating: G AU: Theater, Werewolf, Werebeast, Monster, Cryptid

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Author’s Note: A bit of a detour from NicoMaki. Honestly, I thought the spotlight would first swing to YohaRiko, but this is what came to mind, so here we are.

Summary: The theater’s primary patron pays a visit.

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“Oh, park there, Kanan-chan!” A voice cried excitedly from the back seat.

Kanan sighed and shook her head. “We can’t just park anywhere on the street, Mari-chan.”

“Uuu…” Mari pouted. “But I want to have a good view of Dia-chan’s new theater.”

Kanan chuckled. “You can see it just fine from here, and you’ll get to see it close up in a little bit. Let me just find your designated parking slot.” She turned the steering wheel to direct the car into the lot.

“We have a designated spot?”

“Of course, you do. Didn’t you read the email Dia-chan sent the other day?”

“I skimmed it.”

“All of the top tier patrons have designated parking slots.” Kanan explained. “And since your donation was the largest, even managing to edge out the Nishikino family, you get the best spot.”

“Of course mine was the highest, I want to help my Dia-chan however I can.”

Her Dia-chan… Kanan mused silently. If only…

While it was true that the three of them had grown up together, they had lost track of each other back in high school when Mari spent her second and third years over seas in the United States before going to college in Italy. Dia also left to attend college in Tokyo, leaving Kanan alone in Numazu.

It had barely been a year since Mari tried to reestablish contact. She managed to convince Kanan to leave the dive shop in the capable hands of a cousin, move to Tokyo and open a new shop right on Odaiba Beach. However, she ended up spending much of her time driving Mari around and leaving the shop to her employees. Not that she minded this arrangement. She enjoyed the excuse to spend time with Mari, and if she was being completely honest, knowing the blonde’s habits behind the wheel, it let her worry less for her friend’s safety.

Driving was also a way for Kanan to feel like she was contributing to the household. Mari was obviously the primary bread winner, so Kanan liked to do things in return.

Mari had found a huge 3LDK penthouse apartment where she invited Kanan and Dia to live with her. However, thus far, only Kanan had accepted. Dia, unfortunately, had been less responsive to either of their efforts to reconnect. But there was a room was open for her to accept at any time.

“Ah, here we are.” Kanan spotted the slot and pulled in.

“Eh? The best parking is on the second level?” Mari sounded confused.

She really didn’t read the email… “Of course, this is where the skyway entrance is.” Kanan explained.

“Skyway? Booo… I wanna see the main entrance!”

At this Kanan laughed. “Alright, just let me message Dia-chan to tell her where to meet us.”

With that said, Kanan exited the vehicle and was about to open the door for Mari, when the blonde hopped out herself instead.

“<Let’s go!>” Mari cheered in English, offering a brilliant smile and pumping a fist into the air.

Kanan pulled out her phone as she followed her energetic friend toward the stairway.

Krakanan: Mari-chan wants to see the main entrance, so we’re heading there instead

KurosawaDia: Very well. See you two in a few minutes.

KurosawaDia: Umi-san will be joining me.

Krakanan: I figured as such

Krakanan: I look forward to meeting your new business partner

Krakanan: I’ve heard good things about the Sonoda Theater Group

Not expecting a response, Kanan returned her phone to her pocket and continued her way toward the front doors of the theater. She and Mari made their way across the street, around the corner and..

“Dia-cha~n!” Mari cried, running up the handful of steps between the sidewalk and the entry and all but tackle hugging the raven-haired woman at the top.

“Salutations, Mari-san.” Dia greeted. “Thank you for coming today. I look forward to introducing you to the cast and crew.”

“Always so formal, Dia-chan.” Mari pouted. “It’s been for~ever~ since we saw each other, you should be more excited.”

Something changed in Dia’s expression. Just for a second. Had Kanan blinked, she would have missed it. And she had no idea what to make of it.

“Anyway,” Dia said after a moment “please allow me to introduce you to my partner in this endeavor, Sonoda Umi.” She pulled an arm free of Mari’s embrace to indicate the blue-haired girl beside them.

“Thank you for your generous donation, Ohara-san.” Umi said with a bow.

“Ohara-san?” Mari repeated. “<No, no, no.> You can just call me Mari. Any friend of Dia-chan is a friend of mine, Umi-chan.”

Pink dusted Umi’s cheeks undoubtedly caused by the casual referral. “V-very well, Mari-san it is.”

“Anyway, what a lovely place you two have here.” Mari finally released Dia and stepped down a few stairs to get a better view of the façade above her. “But, Sonoda Kurosawa Theater? Really?”

“We decided it best to put Umi-san’s name first.” Dia explained. “Her family is more renowned here in Tokyo than my own.”

“No, that’s not it.” Mari dismissed. “I meant, why just your names? That’s so boring!”

“How do you mean?”

“You should call it something more exciting, like The Monster Mash!”

“That is a song, and a dance type.”

“Or how about Tales from the Cryptids?”

Dia sighed. “That’s just a play on the title of an old television show.”

“But I mean that’s what this whole place is about, right? Giving our kind a place to be what they are while excusing any slipups as movie magic?”

“Theater magic, but you’re not exactly wrong.”

“I hate to interrupt,” Umi spoke up “but should we really be discussing such things out in the open like this?”

“Oh, you worry too much, Umi-chan.” Mari waved her hand at the other woman.

“No, Umi-san has a point.” Dia conceded. “Let’s head inside, shall we?” She turned and motioned for the others to follow.

“Fine.” Mari crossed her arms before moving back up the steps. “But you guys hired that Yoshiko girl, right? I think we’ve all seen how her claims are reacted to by the general public.”

Kanan couldn’t help enjoying the show as she watched her friends behave pretty much the same as they did back in high school. They really hadn’t changed much… except for whatever that crack in Dia’s demeanor had meant. She decided she could explore that issue later and smiled to herself as she followed the others into the theater.

“<SHINY!!>” Mari proclaimed, throwing the front doors wide as she entered.

“Pigi!” A voice squealed as a head of red hair ducked below a nearby counter.

Ah, of course Dia-chan would bring Ruby-chan here with her. Kanan thought to herself. I wonder if that means Hanamaru-chan is around here somewhere as well.

“You can come out, Ruby.” Dia said, her tone softening immediately as she called her younger sister and moved toward where she was hiding. “It’s just Mari-san being her usual boisterous self.”

“Mari-chan?” Ruby poked her head up. Emerald eyes sparked with recognition. “Mari-chan! Kanan-chan!” She ran to greet the two excitedly.

As Mari happened to be closer, she greeted the blonde first with a warm embrace. However, she was quick to shift to Kanan to welcome her as well.

“Good to see you again, Ruby-chan.” Kanan said as they parted. “We’ll have to catch up sometime soon.”

“Mm.” Ruby agreed with a smile. “Are you two the reason for the meeting?”

“They are.” Dia confirmed. “I want everyone to meet some of our generous patrons. I believe we have the Nishikinos slated for tomorrow?” She turned to Umi who confirmed with a nod. “Anyway, speaking of the meeting, we should head to the stage now for it.” She was about to turn and resume walking when…

“One last thing, Dia-chan.” Kanan spoke up.

“Yes, Kanan-san?”

Kanan spread her arms wide. “Hagu.”

Dia flushed a little but smiled anyway and stepped into the embrace.

“It’s… good to see you again, Kanan-san.” Dia spoke quietly, surprising Kanan. “I’m sorry if I’ve been a little cold as of late.”

Then, all too soon, as far as Kanan was concerned, Dia pulled out of the hug and resumed leading the way through the theater to the stage. Upon arrival, Umi and Dia began their introduction of the theater’s patron, Mari.

It seemed Dia’s penchant for long drawn out speeches hadn’t changed. Kanan considered. And it seemed she had found a business partner with similar tastes.

Ah, there’s Hanamaru-chan. Kanan thought as she scanned the crowd gathered on stage. Next, she picked out Chika and You, remembering their faces from back in Numazu. She made a mental note to greet them all after the meeting.

She recognized Nico and Maki from pictures included in emails sent by Dia about the lead roles for their first production. A few other faces looked familiar from other pictures, but she couldn’t readily place their names.

Still, it was amusing to observe some of the body language of those gathered. There was a young woman with red hair both longer and darker than Ruby’s. She was giving nervous side glances to a shorter girl near her. That girl had some of her blue hair tied up in a bun with a black feather sticking out. Wait, was that the Yoshiko girl Mari had mentioned a few minutes ago?

Next was an ash blonde whose attention seemed focused on Umi. Then, there was another redhead with braided twin tails who looked quite friendly standing next to slightly taller woman whose aura was as cool as the dark blue of her hair. A bespectacled brunette was looking at Nico like a fan waiting for an autograph. A darker brunette with a lovely red ribbon in her hair next to another ash blonde sporting an uneven, though cute haircut. A short pink haired girl with a blank expression stood next to a taller blonde with a brilliant smile. Then a sleepy looking brunette, a raven-haired young woman giving off a fiery aura, another with the tips of her dark twin-tails dyed green and a redhead with a stylish bun surrounded by a braid.

Quite the crew. Kanan found herself wondering what each might be.

“Food’s here, nya!” A voice cried from somewhere in the auditorium before an orange-haired blur scampered down the aisle. “Where do you wanna set up, Umi-chan?” A young woman asked, not seeming to care that Dia was still talking.

“Rin.” Umi scolded. “You’re early.”

“Better than late, right? Oh! Kayo-chin is here!” Rin scampered over to the brunette with glasses.

“R-Rin-chan...” Kayo-chin? said as Rin rubbed their cheeks together. That must be a nickname.

Kanan wondered if the nya had been indicative of her actually being a cat or just a verbal tic. Based on her running speed, Kanan suspected the former, though both wouldn’t surprise her.

“Special delivery!” Another voice rang out.

“Honoka, you’re…” Umi started.

“Ooo, what did you guys order for us?” Mari interrupted.

“We got lots of stuff!” Rin announced proudly. “But I gotta set up the tables and such for Honoka-chan to put things on.”

“Do you need help carrying anything?” The braided redhead spoke up.

“Sure! Lemme show ya, nya!” Rin sped back up the aisle.

“Emma-san…” Umi sighed as the redhead followed.

“It’s alright.” Dia said. “We’ve already lost Mari-san.” She turned back to her staff. “It seems the meeting is adjourned. Please be sure to thank Mari-san for sponsoring this meal, brought to us by Kousaka Catering.”

“I thought she didn’t know what was ordered?” Umi raised an eyebrow.

“I placed the order. Mari paid the bill.”

“I see.”

“There’s plenty of food!” Mari announced loudly. “Don’t hold back! Eat all you want! Take some home if you want. I don’t want to see anything left.”

As Kanan headed up the aisle to see what else needed to be carried in, she mused about the appetites of those she knew. If those were any indications of the others, she wondered just how much had been ordered. She figured it would probably fill an entire…

Box truck.

Sure enough, parked haphazardly on the sidewalk, emblazoned with Kousaka Catering on the side, sat a box truck. And it indeed appeared to be completely packed.

She spotted Emma carrying several catering boxes, stacked past her head.

“The breadsticks are buono!” The young woman said as she passed.

Part of Kanan wanted to break out her other arms in an attempt to carry even more boxes, but as there was no shortage of witnesses on the public street, she settled for a similarly sized stack as Emma. Perhaps some other time. No more than three steps later, and Rin was already slipping past her, carrying only half as many boxes, but speeding along at probably thrice Kanan’s pace.

Again, Kanan found herself wondering what all everyone was. She knew Mari would want to stop by the theater on a regular basis, so perhaps over the next week or so, she could find out.

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Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#MariKanaDia #AU August #Ohara Mari #Matsuura Kanan #Kurosawa Dia #Sonoda Umi #Putting on Hairs #Love Live Sunshine #Love Live #fanfic

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

Text

The Prince (y.j.h.) - Waning Crescent Hotel

Please read this (W.C.Hotel) if you this is the first post of this series that you see. Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of death, mentions of abuse Genre: Angst, Hotel Del Luna AU, Choose your own adventure, SVT x Fem! Reader Staff: Yong (Spirit General Manager) / Jiwoo (Human General Manager) / Soon Bok (Room Manager) / Mun Hee (Front Desk Receptionist) / Shin (Grim Reaper assigned to Waning Crescent) Word Count: Ending A - 4.6k / Ending B - 4.7k

W.C.Hotel | Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

Running through the halls, my heels click at the pace of a speed typer. My hands grip my bunched up dress tighter and I startle many guests in my hurry to the lobby.

"Woah, slow down there." Jiwoo manages to grab my arm and essentially stop me in my pursuit.

I turn and glare at him while trying to continue on my way. Jiwoo flinches slightly when my eyes land on him but his feet stay rooted to the ground like the tree in my garden.

"Let go of me." I tell him, not having any of his attitude.

"Relax." Jiwoo nearly rolls his eyes at me. "Yong's still showing him around."

I narrow my eyes into daggers at him for telling me to relax. Jeonghan's finally here and Jiwoo has the nerve to tell me to relax.

"Did you just tell me to relax?" I drop my dress skirt and rest my arms at my sides, dumbfounded.

Jiwoo nods, "Yeah, I did. Because you need too." He glances around the hall, "You're making our guests nervous."

I yank my arm from Jiwoo's grasp and roll my eyes. I continue on my way to the lobby, slower this time, and with Jiwoo next to me.

"Why is Yong showing him around? Where's Soon Bok?" I wonder.

"Soon Bok had to settle a dispute with a couple about their rooms." Jiwoo informs me as the hallway opens up to the lobby's second floor balcony overlooking the lobby floor.

"A dispute?" I look over at him as we reach the railing.

Jiwoo looks down at the guests. "Something about how they needed to be in the same room with each other. Something about how they're soul mates or something. I dunno, I left before I could understand it fully."

I shake my head and chuckle, "Ah, did they not hear the part where this is the last stop for their soul and tomorrow they'll have another life crowded their small brains?" I watch as some guests chat together while others hurry to the beach or the swimming pool.

Yong walks out of the outdoor beach entrance with Jeonghan following her. I take in a breath and hold it as he stuns me just like always. He's wearing black slacks and a white button up shirt. His hair looks freshly washed and fluffed down over his forehead. With hands clasped behind his back, he listens intently to everything Yong says and looks at the places she points out.

"He look the same?" Jiwoo asks and I can hear the smile on his lips.

I glance down at my hands gripping the railing tightly, then back at Jeonghan, where Soon Bok is bowing and introducing herself.

"His face does. Though when I knew him, he was a prince." I tell Jiwoo.

"Wow, like an actual prince?" Jiwoo leans his forearms on the rail, looking at Jeonghan, "Like crown and everything."

I give a single nod, "Crown and everything."

"No, honey, that was ridiculous the way she treated us!" A female voice shrieks behind us. "Where did she run away to? HAS ANYONE SEEN THE ROOM MANAGER?" She then full blown yells into the lobby.

I turn to the right and at the top of the stair case stands a very upset female and her very embarrassed husband.

"There! You! Room Manager lady!" The female spots Soon Bok standing with Jeonghan and Yong. The entire lobby goes silent and all eyes are on the female at the top of the stairs. When I look at Soon Bok, I can tell she's extremely annoyed and will probably explode soon. Her face has 'I will kick you' written all over it.

Jiwoo and I silently watch as the female races down the stairs with her husband in tow. In just a few seconds, she is standing in front of Soon Bok who's hands are clasped behind her back in an attempt to keep herself from wringing the female's neck.

"You have to treat us like guests!" The female says loud enough for the entire lobby to hear. All the guests in the lobby just stare at the outburst or nervously glance around.

"Like I mentioned before, we aren't allowed to room people together becaus-"

"Because of policy, blah, blah, blah." The female interrupts Soon Bok. "Screw your policies, we are the guests here and you have to cater to your guests. And we want to room together. Where's your manager?" She suddenly asks and I see Yong smile.

"I'm the general manager here." She says.

"Oh, good, fire this bitch. She's no good here. Doesn't even listen to the guests." The female points an accusing finger at Soon Bok.

"I understand, however, our Room Manager has told you the truth. We are not allowed to put guests together in a room." Yong says calmly, facing the fiery female with her steeled front.

"Now you won't listen to us?" The female shrieks, "What good are you here then?" She asks and my blood boils. It's one thing to treat one of my staff poorly, but it's a whole other thing to treat Yong poorly.

I push back from the railing, "And I'm the one making people nervous." I mutter to Jiwoo as I pass him on the way to the stairs. Jiwoo stifles a small laugh behind me.

Through the silence, my purposefully heavy steps echo off the stairs and catch the attention of everyone in the room.

Soon Bok looks at me and silently asks for help. The same look is in Yong's eyes as well though her's is harder to distinguish through her front. I avoid Jeonghan's face for fear of faltering even the smallest amount.

"And you are?" The female stood her ground as I approach though her husband cowers away from me, as he should.

"The CEO." I say, bored and unamused with her attitude.

"Oh, would I like to have a word with YOU." The female points her finger at me.

I bat away her finger, and hand, and cross my arms.

"I think the word you should be saying is 'sorry.'" I stare at her.

"Excuse me?" The female questions like she's been offended in the worst possible way.

I place my hands behind my back and lean towards her, "I said you need to apologize to my employees."

"Why would I do that?" The female asks.

I smirk, "Because the policy is in place for a reason. And that reason is because tomorrow your past life will also be living inside of your memory. So will his. Your past life may not even like his type of personality. You could end up being arch enemies stuck in the same room."

The female stutters, trying to form a sentence.

"We should have told you about it when you arrived." I continue, "I'm sure our purpose was fully laid out for you, wasn't it?"

The female nods, slowly, "It was."

I lift up the side of my mouth in a side smile, "Then there should be no problem here and you two should be able to carry out your stay in separate rooms." I straighten my back, "Unless you would like to wake up with a man who you have only have memories of but your previous life leads you to accidentally kill him because you simply despise him?"

The female looks down at the floor in shame.

"I thought so." I smirk, knowing I have won. "Now go away. My staff have other guests to attend to." I wave my hand, indicting that she should shoo.

Her husband understands immediately and drags his wife away. When the lobby stays silent, I glance around and the guests immediately pick their conversations back up.

"Mr. Yoon, our CEO." Yong introduces us.

"A pleasure." Jeonghan greets me in a bit of an awe.

"I do apologize for the disruption." I lower my head in apology, slightly upset that his visit had to be interrupted so rudely. "Soon Bok?" I turn to her and motion for her to continue showing Jeonghan to his room.

As Yong and I turn to walk away, Jeonghan blurts out a question.

"Sorry, but do I know you?" Jeonghan asks, searching my face for any signs of familiarity.

I smile softly and shake my head, "Not from this life, no." I tell him and leave him no time to reply back, walking away with Yong by my side.

"Which room?" I ask Yong as the elevator doors open.

"410." She answers as we step inside.

She presses my office floor while I ask, "How many days?"

As the elevator doors close, I catch Jeonghan still staring at me. And for a second, just before the doors fully close, he meets my gaze and an electric shock runs down my spine.

Yong sighs before answering, "Four."

My heart stays on the lobby floor as the elevator carries my body higher. I had expected him to live many many lives but the Gods apparently had other plans for him.

~The Fourth Day~

I sip champagne from my glass in an attempt to prepare myself to meet the Jeonghan I left all those years ago.

My time with Jeonghan wasn't crazy adventurous but it wasn't dead boring either. However, leaving him was the hardest out of all thirteen. It's not that I wanted to stay with him more than the others. It's the fact that he had his entire kingdom's army at his disposal. So when I left, he was constantly sending out patrols in search of me. I had to watch every where I went, and there were times when he got close but I always got away. Those nights, I would hear his cries. I could hear his heart break and it only broke mine further.

Shaking my head to get rid of the sad thoughts, I finish off the glass and set it on the table. Turning the glass between my fingers, I watch as the moonlight refracts through the glass and shines into my eyes.

A knock at my door pulls me out of my spotlighted daze.

"Come in." I call out, looking towards the door.

Yong opens the door and sticks her head in, "Jiwoo is taking him to the garden."

I nod, "I'll be there in a few minutes."

I stare at my empty glass for a few more minutes then rise out of my chair and make my way to my garden. Where Jeonghan waits for me.

Just as I reach the doorway leading to him, Jiwoo stops me.

"(y/n)," He runs over with a box in his hands, "This just came for you."

I scrunch my eyebrows together and open the box. Sitting inside sits a beautiful crown and a crown that I recognize immediately. It's the crown that Jeonghan wore during his first life. The one he loved and cherished because it was his grandfather's.

Along with crown is a note. Picking up the note, I read the simple sentence aloud.

"I believe this belong to one of your guests." It reads, and is signed simply as 'Gods.'

"Is it his?" Jiwoo asks, curious beyond curious.

I pick up the crown and let my muscles adjust to it's familiar weight. "It is." Then I sigh, turning the crown side to side, "The Gods really know how to fuck with me."

"It's beautiful." Jiwoo comments, ignoring my pass at the Gods.

"You should've seen it in the living world." I smile at him, "Thank you, Jiwoo."

He nods and takes his leave obediently while I walk down the passageway, crown in my hand.

When I arrive, the usually hidden bench is placed between the entrance and the center tree. Though instead of sitting with his back to me, Jeonghan stands facing the tree and his hands are tucked into his pockets. He's still in the black slacks and white shirt but they look freshly washed and pressed.

"Do you think it's alive?" He asks somehow sensing my presence but he doesn't turn around to face me.

I walk towards him while answering, hiding his crown behind my back. "It's like me. Somewhere between life and death. Just waiting." I reach his side and copy his body position facing the tree.

"How long have you waited?" Jeonghan questions.

"Long enough." I breathe out. "I hope your stay was comfortable."

Jeonghan nods, "It was, though I wish I could be in my normal clothing in front of you. They tell me those clothes were unobtainable."

"Unfortunately, the world we are in now does not suit the clothing of our world." I explain, then bring the crown out in front of me. "Though I believe I can still give you this back."

I face Jeonghan and I watch as his eyes light up in recognition. He gingerly takes it from my hands and sits down on the bench. I follow suit.

"I thought this was stolen by thieves and sold in parts." Jeonghan says and runs his hands over the jewels secured in the gold frame. "But you had it."

I shake my head, "I wish. I think the Gods were holding on to it. I just received it a few minutes ago."

"Uh huh," Jeonghan smirks at me, "Sure you did."

I shove his shoulder, "I'm serious."

Jeonghan chuckles then lightly places the crown on his head. "How do I look?" He asks, posing slightly.

"Princely, as always." I tell him with a smile.

He laughs, removes the crown, and places it on the bench next to him. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on his thighs.

"We had fun, didn't we?" He asks, glancing back at me.

I nod, "We did."

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks, opening his body to face me, one elbow on his thigh, holding himself up. "To us."

I rub my hands together nervously, "I just couldn't stay." I say.

"Why not?" He pushes, "What stopped you from staying?"

I point towards the sky, "The Gods. They told me I had to leave and when they tell me something, I have to listen."

"Part of the curse?" Jeonghan ponders.

"Yeah." I say sadly.

"You know that I looked for you?" Jeonghan tells me, leaning back against the bench. "I looked for years and years."

I nod, staying silent.

"Can you tell me if I was ever close?" He asks.

I chew on my bottom lip wondering if I should. On one hand, it could give him a sense of relief. But on the other, it might make him regretful that he didn't try even harder.

"I just want to know if my efforts were done in vain." Jeonghan continues, literally answering my questions.

"You always could do that." I chuckle.

"What? Read your face and know exactly what you're thinking?" He answers with a smile. "Yeah, I used to think that it was my super power."

I laugh, "And yes, you did get close a couple times." I answer his original question then take a breath. "After the first two years though, I was more careful and you never came close again."

Cockily, Jeonghan intertwines his fingers behind his head, "At least I almost got you."

I shake my head at his comment before diving into my own question, "My turn."

He looks at me from the corner of his eyes, "Alright."

"When did you know you loved me?" I ask, studying his face for details that have changed.

Jeonghan sucks in a breath and releases his hands. "The exact moment? Let's see." He puckers his lips and his eyes wander aimlessly as his thinks.

My hand twitches with the desire to push his lips back down like I used to do but I collect myself before I can move.

"I don't think there was an exact moment but more of one particular night." Jeonghan finally answers. "Do you remember the night of my sister's 18th birthday?"

I faintly remember the big party and nod.

"Do you remember what happened?" Jeonghan asks.

I clear my throat, "I remember something happened at the party and then you tried running away but I think I somehow stopped you."

Jeonghan chuckles, "You could say that."

"Why? Did it not happen that way?" I ask, worried that I'm remembering a different love.

He shakes his head, "No, it happened that way. You just remember the general events."

I lean closer to him and smile sweetly, "Then tell me the details."

Jeonghan wags his finger, motioning me to scoot closer. I follow his instructions and when my knees hit his legs, he swings them over his legs and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

"We were in the middle of the party." Jeonghan begins and I just watch him retell the tale while securely tucked in his embrace. "And my sister's idiot ex decided to show up uninvited. I was pissed. No, I was beyond pissed. So without thinking, I went up and gave him a good punch to the face."

"In front of everyone." I add, starting to remember the events.

"I didn't care." Jeonghan shrugs, "He had hurt my sister and he was going to pay for it. Of course though, once I hit him, he got cocky and fought back instead of walking away. So we tussled and fought in the middle of the party for a few seconds before the guards pulled us apart."

I still as the memory surfaces and flashes through my mind. The grand ball room. Jeonghan's scowl of disgust right before he briskly walked over and socked his sister's ex in the face. The way my body froze, unable to do anything to stop the fight that then occurred. The yells of the royal guards as they pulled the two apart. Jeonghan's sister yelling at her ex to get out and leave. Their father, the king at the time, barking orders at the guards.

"My dad was so mad." Jeonghan continues, "The guards dragged both of us out of the ballroom. You know, I don't really know where you disappeared after I left."

I smile at his lapse in knowledge, "I think I was still frozen in place."

"Why were you frozen?" Jeonghan asks, a laugh sitting behind his lips.

"I don't really know." I admit, "I just didn't expect you to do that in front of everyone."

Jeonghan barks out laughing, pulling a giggle out of me.

"It's not that funny." I manage to say between laughs.

"It is that funny." Jeonghan replies still chuckling.

I hit his chest with a pout, "So what happened after you were dragged away?" I ask, but I already know the answer.

Clearing his throat, Jeonghan continues the story, "I don't really know what happened to the other guy, I'm guessing he got booted out though. I, on the other hand, got a good scolding from my father." He runs his hand through his hair while blowing out a breath.

"I heard." I tell him, remembering how I hovered outside his father's office behind the closed doors.

"You did?" Jeonghan asks, looking at me.

I nod, "I don't think I heard all of it, but I heard enough."

Jeonghan's eyes fall slightly, "So you heard all the talk about you?"

I silently nod, snuggling closer to him.

"And the things he said about me?" He continues.

I nod again, sadly remembering the terrible things his father threw into his face.

"And you heard what he did?" Jeonghan asks slowly.

I shakily nod my head. I close my eyes as the echo of his father slapping him rings in my ears. It was one of the sounds that haunted me for a long time.

Jeonghan sighs before continuing the story, "Well, after my father stormed out, I didn't really know where else to go cause every room in the palace seemed to anger me. Even my private studio. So I ran. I ran out into the back gardens and just kept running until the land dropped away and I had to stop. And then you found me."

I look up at him and meet his gaze.

"You know I didn't want to be found." Jeonghan continues, "But you walked up to me with a bag and just waited with me. I don't know what you were thinking but you stood there, silently." He readjusts his position and tilts his head, "You know, while we're here, how did you find me?"

I gaze around the garden, thinking back to how exactly I did it. "I just tried to think how you would think. If I were in your shoes and my father had just berated me and my love, where I would go. I knew you weren't staying in the palace. Everywhere you went there were reminders of who's control you were under. So then it just became a game of where did you start running and where did you end up." I explain, "I found you on my first try." I smile up at him, proudly.

"That. That was the tipping point." Jeonghan says. "You found me when I didn't want to be found but needed to be. And you found me almost immediately." He rests his cheek on top of my head and continues, "The fact that you didn't say anything and just stood with me. And just let me feel what I needed to feel. That was the night I knew I loved you."

"That was probably the most adventurous night we had together." I comment on the story.

"You think?" Jeonghan asks, "What about the night you swore you could get a deer to let you pet it? Or the night you challenged your guards to a game of foot volleyball? Or-"

I cover his mouth with my hands, "Stop," I whine, "Why did all our adventures involve me thinking I could do something?"

"Not true." Jeonghan counters, "I did the dumb things on horseback. Or those little games that I always somehow lost to the palace children? Or, or that time I suggested we go cliff jumping?"

I giggle, "That was the most terrifying yet most exciting day."

"Agreed. Though I never did it again." Jeonghan sighs at the memory, "Your turn."

"My turn?" I give him a questioning look.

"When did you know?" He reiterates his statement.

I drop my mouth open in a little 'oh' of realization. "Uh, the same night actually."

I feel Jeonghan hesitate under me and I'm quick to continue, "Not in the way you think. It was after it all happened." I take a breath, "After I found you in the forest. When you let me treat the injuries you had. The way I could tell what I was doing hurt you but you stayed as still as possible. You would constantly watch my expressions and it was almost like if I worried for even a split second, you would adjust so the worry would go away." I tell him, "That's when I knew."

"You noticed all that?" Jeonghan asks.

"I noticed everything." I say and look up at him again, "Everything."

Jeonghan gives me a small smile before leaning down and presses a kiss to my lips. Before pulling away completely, he pecks me on the nose. Something he habitually used to do.

"What kind of king were you?" I wonder, still looking at him.

He raises his eyebrows at me, "You mean to say that you didn't stick around?"

I shook my head, "It was better to move away. It would hurt less."

Jeonghan takes in a breath, "Well, I like to think that I was a good king. Kind, courageous, and righteous. Though I didn't leave much of a legacy."

"I'm sure you did if you were kind, courageous, and righteous." I reassure him.

"I didn't leave any heirs." Jeonghan corrects himself.

Then he launches into his life. What he did. Why he never married. The battles he had to overcome as king. The reforms he created. The lives he changed. Everything I have only read and heard from the wind.

The sun begins to dip in the sky, illuminating his features in a bright orange hue. As I silently wish the hue away, Jeonghan understands what the time means before I can even admit it to myself.

"So is this when I take my leave?" Jeonghan asks the air around us.

I only nod, not trusting my voice.

Jeonghan moves my legs off his and slowly rises up. He takes a breath as if to steady himself before offering his hands to me.

I reluctantly grab his hands and he pulls me up. Once I'm on my feet, he uses one hand to grab his crown while the other stays locked around my hand.

"Where do I go now?" He asks as we walk out of the garden.

"A car will take you to the afterlife where your soul can rest." I explain and every word feels like vomit, "I will stay here and wait for the others to arrive."

"Will you have to wait long?" He asks, worried about my constant waiting.

I shake my head, "Hopefully not."

"That's a relief." He sighs before we fall into a silence for the rest of the way to the backyard forest where Shin waits next the car.

When the dusk air hits my skin, I get immediate goose bumps but not from the chill, from the finality of the area. There never will be a chance when Jeonghan's soul will mistakenly appear at my hotel's front door. There won't be another run in with one of his lives. This is the end.

Shin stands next to the car, waiting with his hands resting at his sides.

"That my ride?" Jeonghan asks, nodding towards the idling car.

I nod.

"Well, they could've at least given me a grand carriage or one of those, oh, what are they called? Oh! Those limo things." He tries to lighten the mood.

"Where did you learn about limos?" I wonder.

"That receptionist you have really likes to talk." Jeonghan simply says as we step up to the car.

I smile at Mun Hee's special talent.

"Your highness." Shin greets us and opens the rear passenger door.

Jeonghan faces me with his crown between his hands.

"Would you keep it? So you remember me?" Jeonghan asks, holding out the crown for me to take.

"I can't take it. It belongs to you." I tell him sadly and his shoulders droop.

Jeonghan sniffles but stands a little taller, "Then will you put it on me one last time?" He asks.

I nod, "I can do that." I take the crown from his hands then he lowers himself slightly so I can actually reach the top of his head. Setting the crown in its place, I rest my hands on his shoulders.

With a small smile and tears in his eyes, he kisses me hard, making sure the last is the most memorable. He pulls away and a few tears have managed to slip out but he chooses to ignore their presence on his cheeks.

Without another word, he dips into the car and Shin closes the door once he's securely inside. As the car drives away, I clasp my hands together and grip them tightly while Shin moves to stand next to me.

"Why didn't you keep the crown?" Shin asks, genuinely curious.

"Because it would've disintegrated soon after he left." I tell him as the car's taillights disappear into the fog. "And I couldn't bring myself to tell him that."

I stare into the fog and silently bid Jeonghan farewell.

As a tear slides down my own cheek, back in my garden, one chrysanthemum withers and dies. Shin leaves me alone. He leaves me so I can collect myself before I head back inside to wait for the others who are on their way.

Return to the Navigation Page (Waning Crescent Hotel) to choose the next guest.

"I was told when the sun sets that you and I have another destination to head towards." Jeonghan says, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Somewhere our souls can rest."

I smile, "Since you arrived, I'm free from my binds. We can go and let our souls rest."

We untangle ourselves and rise to our feet. Jeonghan picks up his crown and places it on my head.

"Just as I suspected," He comments, taking a step back and looking at me fully. "The king's crown looks so much better on a woman."

I laugh, "Maybe cause it was made for me."

"That it was." Jeonghan agrees, takes my hand, and we walk away from my garden.

We walk hand in hand to the lobby where Yong, Mun Hee, Soon Bok, and Jiwoo stand solemnly. I slide the crown off my head and hand it to Jeonghan before walking over to my staff.

"So this is it?" Mun Hee asks with tears in his eyes. "This is the day you leave us?"

I wrap him up in a hug, only a tiny bit annoyed that he's being so sappy. "Maybe I'll get punished again and be back here by the end of the year." I try to joke but Mun Hee abruptly pushes back from me.

"Don't you dare say that. You better not return here." He says angrily through his tears.

I chuckle, "I won't come back. I promise."

Turning to Soon Bok, I thank her for her service and her amazing work. Something I never did and should've done more.

Next onto Jiwoo. I also thank him for his and his entire family's service then I unclip the bracelet that has held him to this place.

"When you leave today, you won't be able to find this place again." I inform him, "I hope that you'll be able to go and live your life happily."

Jiwoo nods, "Thank you for letting me work with you. I won't ever forget you."

I smile sadly, knowing that he will, in time, forget me. "Thank you."

Finally I reach Yong who is sniffling and trying so very hard not cry.

"You'd think after all these years of waiting that I'd be prepared for this day." She says through sniffles.

"Thank you, Yong." I rests my hands on her shoulders, "For everything. Thank you."

With lips pursed together, she leans forward and wraps me in an unexpected hug. But I soon wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tightly.

We pull apart after a couple seconds and I wipe the few tears that have escaped from her eyes.

"Keep this hotel running beautifully." I tell her before Jeonghan grabs my hand again.

With final waves of goodbye, Jeonghan and I walk out to the foggy forest that will take us to our resting place.

At the edge of the forest, Shin stands next to an idling car, a somber look on his face.

"(y/n)." He says when we reach him, "It has been an honor working with you. I wish you both a peaceful rest." Shin bows his head and I pat his arm.

"The honor was mine." I tell him with a smile. Now the tears start to line my eyes as the realization fully sets in.

I'm free. I have served my years of punishment and now I'm free to let my soul rest.

I turn back towards the hotel and look up to the top where the rooftop patio is outlined with bright string lights. Then to the mid floors where random room lights are turned on, some guests staying in while others opting to experience the hotel's many services. Then to grand base where guests would be milling around, waiting their turns to leave this world.

"(y/n)?" Jeonghan softly asks pulling my attention to where he sits just inside the car, "Are you ready?"

I take one last quick look at the hotel before turning away from it. "Yeah, I'm ready. Let's go."

I lower myself into the car and Shin securely closes the door after I am completely inside. As the car begins to drive forward, Jeonghan securely grabs my hand and I let his warmth guide me towards our final destination.

In the garden, the final chrysanthemum withers and dies so that no more stand at the base of the bare tree.

#kpop imagine #seventeen imagine #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan imagine #jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan imagine #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #waning crescent hotel #writer-k-pop

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wolfloke · 3 years

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Rp Ideas

(Barista Aus)

[Character A] is a barista at a coffee shop. [Character B] comes in every day and orders the same thing, at the same time, always. One day, [B] doesn't show up.

[Character A] is all ready to pay for their coffee, when they realize they've lost their wallet. [Character B], the customer in back of them, offers to pay for them.

[Character A] and [Character B] are baristas who work the morning shift. Something more than friendship blossoms between them (Can already be pre-established or can happen over time), however, things change when [A] is moved to the night shift, and [B] stays in the morning shift.

[Character A] is tired of customers' shit. When one especially rude consumer decides to mouth them off, [A] does the logical thing, and spits right in their mocha whipped caramel latte. It isn't until they're handing the coffees out that they realize the rude customer hadn't ordered the latte. [Character B] did.

[Character A] is the new barista at a local coffee shop. [Character B] doesn't quite like them. When the two get into a fight and the hot milk machine explodes, the manager threatens to fire the both of them unless they can work it out. How do they go about becoming friends?

[Character A] is a barista working the late shift alone. It's a slow night, and the store is entirely empty, so they decide to close up shop and lock the doors. However, as they're in the back of the shop counting stock, they hear glass shatter in the front, and they know it's not just a coffee crazed customer. [Character B] can be anyone; The burglar, an employee who forgot their things and decided to head back but witnessed the burglary, or a concerned passerby who spotted the break in happening.

(Zombie AUs)

[Character A] is holed up in a locked down, abandoned mall. Somehow, [Character B] gets in. How do the two react once they realize they're not alone?

[Character A] is stuck on a rooftop. [Character B], who's stuck on the rooftop across from them, has been trying to make contact with the other survivor, to no avail.

[Character A to Character B] "Gimme all your shit. The food, the water, the weapons. Everything. Now!"

[Character A] is all out of ammo. There's a horde on their tail, they're injured, and it's not likely they're going to make it out alive. And that's when they see [Character B] beckoning them to a hiding spot just a few steps away.

[Character A] and [Character B] are traveling together. Then, one of them gets bit. How does the other react?

[Character A] is dying. [Character B] is keeping them company. How do they interact with eachother?

(Highschool AU)

[Character A] is new to a prestigious boarding school. They're lost in the hallways. Then they happen to bump into [Character B].

[Character A] manages to piss off [Character B], aka, the scariest kid in school.

(Three People RP) [Character A] is happily dating [Character B]. However, [Character C] is secretly in love with [A/B], and desperately wants them to break up.

[Character A], a high school student, is dating [Character B], a college student.

[Character A] and [Character B] are by no means friends. Then they get grouped together for a project that forces them to spend time at each others' houses. Do they become friends, something more?

[Character A] is hiding a secret. [Character B] just happens to find out.

[Character A] is the new kid in school. If the rumors are any indication, they're a bit of a weirdo. [Character B] refuses to believe them, and decides to get to know [A] for themself.

[Character A to Character B] "Yikes, I saw that fall a mile away. Looks like you dropped a lot of stuff. Want some help?"

[Character A to Character B] "Are you...Are you drawing me?"

[Character A to Character B] "Lunch in the classroom again? Mind if join you?"

(Celebrity AUs)

[Character A to Character B] "Holy shit! I've seen you before! You're...!"

[Character A] is the top model at a fashion agency. That all changes when [Character B] is scouted, and practically rips the spotlight from [A]. How does [A] respond to this? How does [B] feel about it?

It's not everyday you bump into a celebrity...Except it is for [Character A], who suspiciously keeps bumping into the famous [Character B] everyday. Coincidence, or something more?

[Character A] is a movie star visiting their hometown. However, they realize that time in Hollywood has made them forget the town. So, they appoint [Character B] as their tour guide.

[Character A to Character B] "Don't you know who I am?"

[Character A] is a famous movie actor playing the lead in a romance film. [Character B] is the clumsy rookie that somehow got the second lead. How will the two get along, especially when [Character B] can't seem to remember their lines?

[Character A] is a photographer in a park struggling to find their muse. When [Character B] happens to stroll by, they realize they've just found it.

[Character A] scores backstage tickets to a rock concert, which just so happens to be their favorite band, like...Ever. [Character B] is the lead vocalist/guitarist/whatever of the band.

[Character A], a lovestruck rookie actor. [Character B], an experienced, well known actor who's been starred as the main lead in multiple romance movies. Somehow, [A] ends up being the second lead to [B]! How does [B] react to [A]'s inexperience? Will they get along? And how will they go about about the kiss scene that occurs later on in the movie?

[Character A] is walking home one night, when they see [Character B] attempting to jump from a bridge! Dashing into action, they talk them out of it, only to find that [B] is a famous celebrity, who, for some reason or another, feels indebted to [A] forever now.

(Supernatural AUs)

[Character A] is a werewolf struggling to control their transformations. [Character B], a lycan nerd, offers to help them, but only if they can document the process.

The city is plagued by a number of mysterious killings that leave their victims drained of any and all blood. While believed to be animal attacks at first, [Character A], a detective, thinks differently. And when [Character B] is caught on CCTV grabbing a helpless woman and tearing out her jugular, well, that just confirms [A]'s suspicions.

(Multiple people rp) Ever since the dark ages, witches have been forced into hiding, lest they be revealed and punished with a fiery death. For centuries, they've breeded amongst covens, creating generation after generation of children with extraordinary abilities. Each child only has one ability when they begin the harnessing of their internal power. But, of each generation, there is one child, and only one, that shows signs of having multiple abilities. Over time, these special children became known as The Supreme Witch, and had to complete grueling and painful challenges in order to prove their powers. Now in the modern age of technology, there is a special school for the last remaining witch millennials to come to terms with their abilities, learn to control them, and strengthen them. All witches are able to participate in the test to determine who is supreme, at their own risk. However, one question remains; Just who will survive the test and be crowned Supreme Witch?

[Character A]'s family moves into a new house. It doesn't take [A] very long to figure out they're being haunted by [B].

[Character A] thinks that their boyfriend/girlfriend, [Character B] is acting a little odd. They're always cold, pale, and they seem to be uncontrollably thirsty all the time.

[Character A] is a clumsy witch struggling to harness their internal energy. [Character B] is an older witch, who offers to teach them, on one condition.

[Character A], a sailor on the S.S Jolly Fellow, awakens from a nap below deck to find the boat anchored in the middle of the ocean and the crew gone. The only other person they can hear is [Character B], a mermaid/merman sitting on a nearby rock, singing a soft harmony.

[Character A] finds a fairy out in the woods and traps it in a jar. This fairy, [Character B], demands they be let go. And [A] agrees, but on one condition; [B] must grant them any wish they want.

[Character A] is bitten by a wild wolf one night in the woods. They hide it from their friends and family in fear of being scolded for being out when they weren't supposed to. But soon, weird things start happening. For instance, their hearing seems to be super good. Their eyesight is enhanced greatly. And they can smell every hamburger in a five mile radius. But along with the hamburgers, they can also smell certain people with "different" powers (Vampires, witches, other werewolves, etc). And their nose seems to be leading them right to [Character B].

[Character A], a fledgling vampire, attacks [Character B] and turns them. Now apart of their pack, [Character B] must now be mentored by the very person that turned them into a bloodthirsty monster, [A].

[Character A] is a professional hunter hot on the trail of [Character B], a monster.

[Character A], a mermaid held in captivity. [Character B], a worker assigned to their tank. How do the two come to trust each other? What happens then?

(Darker AUs)

[Character A] wakes up in a dark room with a chain around their ankle. They can't remember anything from last night, except maybe.. A blurry image of [Character B]'s face.

[Character A] knows not to talk to strangers, but there's something so endearing about [Character B] that they can't help but to chit chat. Little does [A] know, they'll be regretting it very soon.

[Character A] has had [Character B] chained up in their basement for a while now. At first, they'd just meant to kill [B] and be done with it. But for some reason, [A] can't bring themselves to do it. Why? What will they do in the end?

[Character A] wakes up covered in blood, next to a sleeping [Character B]. What happened? How did [A] end up there?

[Character A] is a twin to a royal family, their sibling being a princess/prince destined to marry into a richer kingdom. For years, [A] had dreaded their parting. It finally came in the form of [B], a sadistic tyrant who insists he marry the beauty that is [A]'s twin. Refusing to let their sibling fall into [B]'s hands, [A] dresses up as them, and takes their place instead, becoming [B]'s hand in marriage.

(War AUs)

[Character A] is a freshly drafted soldier. [Character B] is the bitter, apprehensive sergeant, tasked to whip [A] into shape.

[Character A] and [Character B] are soldiers on opposing fronts, who so happen to be severely injured, and who so happen to be hiding in the same house. Unfortunately,

Disclaimer. I don't own any part of the art nor do I own nor do I own the context of this of this post. I am reposting this so all who love to role play has access to it.

#rp #erp #role play #role play ideas #creative writing #writers block #writing ideas #short story #one shot plots #plots #rp plots

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pikelanette · 4 years

Text

Trinket

hey friends!! been a while, I know... but hey, here’s some modern AU perc’ahlia! inspired by the prompt ‘carnival’ and kind of sad but also kind of happy (my favourite)

Pairing: perc’ahlia Words: 4580 Rated: T Link: ao3

a modern au about winning bears at carnivals

The first time Vex’ahlia saw Trinket, she let out a delighted chuckle.

Gilmore was showing them all of the prizes the kids could win at his shooting game at the annual Emon carnival. He’d pulled it all together at record speed. Apparently, his diner was going through just a tiny bit of a dip in visits, so he wanted to lure in some more families with younger kids by participating in the carnival and plastering his logo on everything he sold. He told Vex and Vax about it a couple of weeks ago and flirted with both of them until they gave in and promised that they’d help out. Vax would help out at the waffle stand and Vex was going to run the shooting game stand a few lanes over.

The game was fairly simple: customers had to hit a couple of unicorn-themed targets with a small plastic gun that shot tiny squishy balls. If they couldn’t hit any, they got a consolation prize, a discount for a waffle at Gilmore’s other stand. But if they did manage to get some hits in, there was a variety of small, cute prizes for them to pick from. And the biggest prize was a huge bear plushie.

Vex’s eyes shone brightly as she looked the bear over. When her brother saw what she was looking at, he snorted. Then he reached out and took her hand. He got it, of course.

When they were six, their mother took them to a carnival. The big prize for one of the games was a huge bear plushie just like this one. Weirdly realistic, kind of menacing, absolutely perfect for her. She’d spent a stupid amount of time trying to win it, but money was tight, and when she noticed her mom’s guilty expression every time she opened her wallet, she let it go. It didn’t stop her from walking by the stall a couple of more times, just to see the bear. She made up a story where she’d rescue him from his carnival prison and he would be her best friend. Together, they’d go an adventure. Vax too, of course. He was part of all of her adventures.

Quietly giving up on that bear was a turning point in her life. It was the moment she realised that her mom needed her help. Her mom needed her to be strong and happy with the tiniest things. Her mom needed her to stop wanting things.

Vex’ahlia never stopped wanting things.

She hadn’t thought of that bear in years. Her life had a bunch of other turning points that kind of took the spotlight away from it. Losing their mother to cancer. Moving in with their horrible father. Finally leaving his house the second she and Vax turned eighteen.

That last one got their lives onto a better track, though. Things got better after they left the Vessar family behind. It was rough at first, of course, trying to make a living, but they’d saved up money while they still lived with their father for that exact purpose, so things never got out of hand. They took any jobs they could for a while, and then they went into the food business. They opened their bakery when they were twenty-four. Thanks to Vax’s creativity and Vex’s eye for business, it took off after a year.

It was a little poetic that the bear came back into her life after all that.

She walked up to it and patted one of its arms, greeting it like an old friend. Gilmore had no idea what was happening and his head was too full to ask, so he just told her to get acquainted with the place before the opening the day after and dragged Vax off to see to the waffle stand.

Vex watched them go with a smile on her face and turned back to the bear. “It’s you and me again, buddy,” she told it. She grabbed its paw and shook it. “Nice to finally meet you. This is going to be fun.”

And it was fun.

Their bakery hadn’t made it through the selection process for the food stands at the carnival, but this way she could still show her face to prospective customers. People knew her as Vex from the bakery, so every time she chatted with them and handed out prizes to the children, she knew that she was putting her bakery back into their heads. The bakery was open, of course; their employees were running it during these weeks. Vex knew exactly how to pepper that fact into conversation.

Gilmore’s game was deceptively simple, so most customers left with a nice prize. The discount system worked too: Vax told her that most of the people who won a discount code showed up to get their waffles and spent some extra money on drinks and special toppings. Gilmore’s business was booming. And according to JP, the bakery was seeing customers too, despite the carnival.

The shifts were very long, but Vex didn’t mind. After the carnival she’d be beat for a couple of days, but for now she was thriving. She loved commerce. She loved carnivals. And Vax brought her waffles.

She ran the stand by herself, which kept her very busy during rush hours, but she preferred it that way. She liked having full control over the entire place. It reminded her of the first year at the bakery, when Vax and her were the only people keeping the place together. It was a little weird not to have Vax there, sometimes, considering that comparison, but every time she felt that she could just turn to Trinket.

She named him Trinket because all of the prizes were trinkets, and because he was adorable. Every morning when she came in, she patted him on his arm and told him good morning. A few days into the carnival, everyone knew that Vex had made friends with the giant bear at the shooting stand. She would stand next to it when the children were shooting and pretend to talk to it about how incredible their aim was. She’d frown and nod like she was listening to a response and tell the children that Trinket thought that they were awesome. No one came close to winning him, of course. You needed seriously good aim to get all of the targets, and for the big prize there was a time limit too.

Of course, some people couldn’t resist teasing her about her friendship with the bear. Like the handsome engineer who fixed broken games all day

He caught her eye as early as the second day of the carnival. He was called in to fix the Wack-A-Mole came right opposite to Vex’s stand and Vex absolutely did a double take when he came walking up.

He was wearing the same blue uniform as all the other engineers at the carnival did, but there was something different about him. He held himself as straight as a rod, every movement efficient and sharp. He wore glasses, golden-rimmed, and his shoes might be well-worn, they were clearly very high quality.

Money, she concluded with a surprise. You didn’t usually spot people with money doing jobs like this. He must enjoy it.

There was a lull in business around the time the engineer worked the Wack-A-Mole, so she had all the time in the world to send glances his way and check him out as he worked. He disappeared behind the machine for a while, but eventually he came back out, covered in grime and dirt and slightly sweaty. He wiped his hand over his forehead, still holding a wrench, and then he looked up and stared straight at her.

He looked eerily composed for someone who had just done some very dirty work. Something inside of Vex jumped to attention.

The engineer turned back to the guy running the Wack-A-Mole without saying anything and told him that there shouldn’t be any more problems with the machine. Vex made sure to busy herself at the till as they said their goodbyes, somehow knowing that he wouldn’t just leave. And she was right. Footsteps came up to her stand and halted, and when she looked up with her customer service smile, she found the handsome engineer.

“You must be bored,” he said. His voice was smooth and perfect, like whiskey down her throat. Lovely.

“It is rather quiet at the moment,” she replied, her smile fading into a more sincere one, “But the past half hour has been pretty entertaining.”

He smiled back. “You have a pretty intense stare.”

She leaned against the counter. “Being subtle is overrated, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes,” he said, “It has a time and a place.” He smiled again. “I’m Percy. I’d shake your hand, but…” He wiggled his grimy fingers. “Perhaps some other time.”

“I suppose we could do introductions without the traditional handshake,” Vex teased, “I’m Vex’ahlia.”

“Vex’ahlia,” he repeated, “Nice to meet you. You work with Gilmore?”

“Temporarily. He’s a friend. My brother and I own the bakery on sixth.”

“You didn’t get a spot with the stands?”

She shrugged. “Too many applicants. We’ll try again next year.”

“Shame. You make a mean cinnamon roll.”

Vex laughed. She was very proud of their cinnamon rolls. “You’re a fan, are you? I don’t remember seeing you around. I’m sure I would.”

He patted his head. “Is it the hair?”

He did have a very distinctive shock of white hair. But they’d already established her opinion on subtlety.

“That, and your face.”

He snorted and shot her a look. She just grinned back at him unabashedly.

“My sister usually picks them up,” he said, ignoring her compliment, “We have them for our Sunday brunch.”

Vex smiled. “What a lovely idea. We also have a great brioche every week. It makes for some really delicious French toast. Perfect for a brunch.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Are you trying to flirt me into spending more money, Vex’ahlia?”

She laughed and sent him a mischievous look. “I merely want you to have the best brunch experience as possible, Percy. We just happen to offer the best product.”

He looked her over and waved his finger at her. “You’re dangerous,” he concluded.

“Absolutely. But you don’t look like you scare easily.”

He grinned. “I do not.”

“Then I expect I’ll see you around.”

“You’d be wise to.”

“I am so wise.”

He came by every day after that. Usually, he just chatted her up during one of his shifts. His work took him everywhere around the carnival and he passed by her stand often enough to just have a brief moment to flirt with her. He was a good flirter. She was enjoying herself.

The first time he caught her doing her little act with Trinket in front of some kids, he hid his laughter behind a fist. It was busy, so he didn’t say anything at the time, but when he came back later that day he had a twinkle in his eye that told her that he hadn’t forgotten.

“You never introduced us,” he said as he approached.

Vex sighed, catching his meaning, and patted Trinket on his arm. “Do you hear that, buddy? We’ve made Percy question himself.”

“Well, the two of you are clearly very close.” Percy leaned against the counter, cocking his head at her. “A man can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason you didn’t want us to meet.”

She crossed her arms. “Not every guy gets to meet my pet bear.”

“You wound me.”

She laughed. Over the days, Percy had really made an impression on her. There was something about the way he looked at her, something sharp and perceptive, that made her feel seen in a way that she usually didn’t. Plus, he could dish it out as well as he took it. That was rare, in her experience.

She was called away to let some kids play the game and his gaze drifted over to the targets. Sometimes, when he watched someone play it, he started tapping his fingers against his thigh. There was a nervous energy to him when he watched someone shoot.

Vex smiled to herself and told Trinket that the girl was doing incredible. Once the child left with her prize, a plastic unicorn the size of a microwave, she sauntered back over to Percy.

“Just do it,” she said.

He turned his gaze on her. “Do what?”

She nodded to the game. “Give it a try. You clearly want to.”

He laughed.

She absolutely adored his laughter.

“It does seem fun,” he admitted, his eyes still twinkling joyfully.

“Well, go for it.” She winked at him. “Give me your money, Percy.”

“You won’t even give me a discount?”

“Percy, I am a businesswoman.”

He snorted and flexed his fingers, looking back at the targets. “Alright. Sure.” He dug into his pockets and pulled out some coins, depositing them in Vex’s outstretched hand. She put them in the till as he picked up the tiny plastic gun. It looked ridiculous in his large hands; a hilarious sight that she was trying not to laugh at. She didn’t want to break his concentration.

He weighed the thing in his hands for a second and then brought it up. His fingers flexed one more time. Then he pulled the trigger.

He hit the first target easily. “A strong start,” Vex told Trinket appreciatively.

His lips quirked up into a lop-sided smile, but he didn’t look away from the game. He shot again.

Hit.

Again.

Hit.

By this point, Vex was watching him with a bemused grin. He was good. Where did he get that kind of aim?

She checked the prize ratings to see what he was going to get if he kept this up.

He missed the next one and cursed, but Vex felt a rush of relief as she realised he wasn’t going to get a perfect score. She patted Trinket’s arm.

He hit the next three, then missed the last two. All in all, it was the best score anyone had gotten as of yet.

“Impressive,” she said as he put the plastic gun back down. She turned to the prizes to pull down an extensive embroidery set (unicorn-pattern included). “Much experience with fire arms?”

“In a way. I work at the paintball range just out of town.”

“Really?”

This man really loved to get down and dirty, huh?

She held out his prize to him. “That’s pretty cool. Is everyone there as good as you are?”

Percy tentatively took the embroidery set out of her hands, looking at it like it was a lost child he had no idea what to do with. “Not really. But they’re decent enough.”

She laughed at his expression and his blunt confidence. The sound of it drew his gaze back to her, and he sent her that enticing half-smile again.

“Well, I’m certainly impressed,” she told him, trying not to blush. Her heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at her like that, and it was ridiculously embarrassing, even if he couldn’t tell.

Percy hummed and looked back at the game. “Don’t be impressed yet.”

She arched an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t give her an explanation. Instead, he got back to work, leaving her with a wave of his hand and a row of question marks on her mind, the embroidery set tucked underneath his arm. The question marks disappeared soon enough, because business picked up again after that.

Something in had changed, though. After that, he tried the game every day. He started hitting the fourth target pretty quickly, but the last two still eluded him. They were pretty challenging, and the little plastic gun clearly wasn’t his preferred weapon.

It was Vex’s favourite part of the day. Percy would come by, usually bringing her a drink or a snack or just a snarky comment about someone at the carnival, he’d hand her some cash and then he’d try the game. He didn’t get frustrated when he couldn’t hit everything, but he was never truly content with his work either. He just stared at the last two targets sometimes, cogs in his head clearly whirling, trying to figure out how to make this work. But he never stayed too long – he always got back to work right when he was supposed to. Percy was nothing if not punctual. Plus, he loved his work here. She could tell from the way he talked about it.

Vex was having the time of her life. Not even her brother’s teasing about Percy could dull her sheer joy.

Then one day, Percy hit the eighth target.

Vex couldn’t deny the way her stomach dropped when the squishy little ball hit the target. Percy looked better than he ever did, staring at it with a fire in his eyes that made him seem invincible. But Vex couldn’t focus on it, because she was too busy clutching the huge artificial bear beside her.

Percy brought up the gun again, and part of her wanted to call out for him to stop. Panic hit her like a freight train and she held her breath.

He missed.

Vex breathed out and tried to still her shaking fingers. Percy was frowning at the target, clearly discontent. She laughed to relieve some of her own tension.

“Don’t feel bad, darling,” she said, “The last one is a real killer. I think it was made to be impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” Percy said. He eyed the ninth target again, still holding the gun as if he might try again.

“Until when were you on break?” Vex asked quickly, “Five to? Because then you should be getting back to work.”

Percy nodded and put down the gun, turning to smile at her. “You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow, Vex’ahlia.”

“Looking forward to it.”

She waved at him before he disappeared into the crowd. Then her smile dropped from her face.

She tried to shake off the tension in her neck and shoulders. She was doing customer service, for God’s sake. She had to look welcoming.

She plastered her smile back on and tried to forget.

She thought it worked right up until Percy came back the next day, a smile on his face and his money already in his hand. Immediately, her shoulders tensed up again.

She smiled back at him. “Back to give it another try, then?”

“I’m going to get it one of these days.”

“Oh, well… There’s only five days left. You might have to concede.”

Percy handed her the money, his eyes already on the targets. “Not I, Vex’ahlia. Not I.”

Vex’s heart was in her throat from the moment he picked up the gun to the second he put it back down. He still couldn’t hit the ninth target, but she was getting seriously nervous. He’d managed to go from hitting the first seven to the first eight in… What, three days? There were still five days of the carnival left. The ninth target was definitely the hardest to hit, but, contrary to what she said before, it wasn’t impossible. He just needed some seriously good aim and a healthy dose of luck.

She looked at her bear. She felt jittery and uncomfortable, like she’d had too much caffeine.

“Are you alright?” Percy asked, a worried frown between his eyes.

Vex almost jumped. “What? Yes. I’m fine.”

She was being short with him, but for some reason he was annoying her right then.

He didn’t seem to pick up on it. Instead, he just nodded and said his goodbyes before heading back out into the fray.

Vex couldn’t calm down for the rest of the day. She kept glancing at Trinket, standing beside her all big and strong and dependable. She wouldn’t admit to it, but she’d been secretly thinking about taking him home after the carnival was done. She was sure she could give Gilmore a fair price for him. After all, she was now at an age where she could indulge herself. She could have the huge bear plushie if she wanted to. She could take him if no one else did.

After her shift ended that night, she looked up Gilmore. She couldn’t help herself.

“Shaun,” she said, making her voice and smile as warm and inviting as possible.

He arched an eyebrow at her, already suspicious.

Vex dropped the act. She frowned. “Is there a way to make sure that no one wins the main prize?”

“What?”

She was about to repeat her question when he held up a hand to silence her. “That’s illegal, Vex. We’re not doing that.”

“But is there?” she pushed.

Gilmore sighed and stepped up to her, sending her one of his own signature dazzling grins. “Vex’ahlia. Darling. If you mess with the mechanics of my game, I will snap your neck like a twig.”

Vex repressed an angry pout and turned away from him. “I was just joking,” she snapped. She straightened out her shirt and left him.

The next few days, she had to physically restrain herself from biting her nails while on shift. The jittery energy she’d felt the day Percy hit the eighth target was a constant now. She kept bouncing her leg and rolling a coin between her fingers. She did breathing exercises to keep herself from rushing the customers, but she couldn’t help the turbulent river of nervousness that coursed through her own body. The sight of Percy’s white shock of hair in the crowd was no longer something that she looked forward to. Instead, every day she crossed her fingers that that day he’d be too busy to visit.

He never was, of course. No, he showed up every day, at a different moment, catching her off guard just as business lulled for a moment. First, she’d draw him into conversation, asking him about his work, his family, his hobbies, anything. She flirted excessively, trying to keep his attention fully occupied. But, about five minutes before his break would end, he’d hand her the money and pick up the gun.

She hated him a little bit in those moments. Couldn’t this guy take a fucking hint?

But he still hadn’t hit the ninth target by the time the last day of the carnival arrived. Vex dared to be a little hopeful. The odds were against him, at least, and she’d talked to Gilmore about taking Trinket home after the carnival. As long as they got through this day, her buddy would have a permanent place in her living room. But she hadn’t yet cleared out a spot. She didn’t have that kind of confidence yet.

When Percy came to the shooting stand that day, it felt like the moment that the entirety of these two weeks had led up to. She kind of felt like there should be a crowd for this. Someone should be paying attention, at least. Instead, everyone around them was just having their regular fun. Someone was cackling at the Wack-A-Mole stand. A mother was chastising her child for holding their ice-cream a little loosely. In the distance, they could hear the excited yelling of people on one of the more exciting rides.

Percy smiled at her as he gave her the money for the game. “One more try,” he said conspiratorially.

Vex forced a laugh that sounded hollow to her own ears, clutching the money in her hands.

She refused to hold onto Trinket as Percy picked up the gun. Instead, she crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders a little. She felt small, and she hated it. She hated that she cared about this. She hated that she couldn’t talk about it.

She was six years old again, walking past that carnival game just to steal another glance.

Percy hit the first five targets easily. He moved in a smooth line now, quick as a dancer. He was beautiful.

He took a breath before he hit the sixth. Took a second. Hit the seventh. The eighth.

Vex’ahlia held her breath. Her heart was racing. For some reason, fight or flight was kicking in, and she had the incredible urge to break something. She wanted to punch his pretty face.

Percy angled the gun. He moved his hand a hairbreadth. Settled.

Vex followed the little ball with her eyes as it shot towards the ninth target. She watched it sail right into it with an audible plop.

Bells went off. She was pretty sure a confetti gun covered the entire place in colourful paper. She didn’t care.

Tears rushed into her eyes. She was six years old, and she had to walk past the carnival stand. She had to give up the bear.

She looked up and caught the tail-end of an adorable dorky victory dance that Percy was doing. He had a grin on his face that could light up the night sky.

She turned away quickly, palming at her eyes to get rid of the tears. She took a deep breath.

She was twenty-seven. It was time to give up the bear.

“Congratulations!” she said, turning back to Percy with a smile.

His grin had faded into a content smirk. “I knew I could do it. I just had to get it right.”

“It’s a real feat.”

She tried to keep her voice peppy. Percy was a good guy. She liked Percy. It was just a bear.

He was basking in his own satisfaction. “Can I come pet him?” he asked her, a tease to his voice.

Vex forced a laugh and waved him over to the stand’s entry point. “Of course. He’s all yours.”

Percy entered the stand and stepped up into her space since the first time she met him. He was a little taller than she was, and he smelled like oil and caramel apples. He had her favourite smile on his face, but she couldn’t enjoy it.

She turned her face away and led him to Trinket. “Here he is! The man himself.”

“An honour to finally meet you,” Percy said, patting Trinket’s paw with his hand.

Vex bit her cheek.

“So,” Percy said casually, glancing at her, “What are you going to do with him?”

She blinked slowly. “What?”

“The bear,” Percy said, “Where are you going to put him? He’s pretty big.”

“Where am I going to put him?”

“Well, yes.” Percy turned his body towards her and crossed his arms, smiling down at her. His eyes had a boyish glint to them. “I’m not going to separate a lady from her pet bear. What do you take me for?”

Vex needed another few moments to wrap her head around what he was telling her. “What? You… What, you’re… You’re… Wait, you’re giving me the bear? You won it.”

“I think you’ll give him a better home than I would. Besides, isn’t this customary? Winning a prize for your date?”

“You…” Vex’ahlia let out a laugh. All of the tension she’d accumulated dispersed in one cackling bout of laughter. When she finally wiped the tears from her eyes, Percy was looking at her a little weird, although not at all displeased.

“I didn’t know we were on a date,” she said finally. Her hand reached for Trinket instinctively, and when she touched him, she knew that she could finally take him home.

She was twenty-seven. This bear was hers.

#critical role #percahlia #perc'ahlia #cr fanfic #critical role fanfic #original #txt.

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

A year after the events of Past-Present-Future, Lee Mirae, Choi San, and Jeong Yunho receive a mysterious envelope containing photos and notes about the deaths of several individuals. The deeper they go into the case, they find that the entertainment industry hides a very dark secret.

Group: ATEEZ Pairing: Yunho/OC Genres: It’s a little bit of: adventure, romance, mystery, crime, fantasy, action. Things to note: It also features mentions of other idols/artists: Junhong (Zelo), Dean, Chanyeol, etc. Superpowers AU if it wasn’t obvious as well. Featuring Enhypen.

T/W: Themes of death, violence, demons, cults, blood, use of weapons and/or firearms, use of drugs (both recreational and medical), implied/referenced assault, implied/referenced suicide

A/N: The main conflict is a reimagining of an actual long-running theory. This is also a remaking of a previous fic I wrote before on Ao3 that will now be under the new super powers au. (if you know, you know). This work is pure fiction and does not bear a direct reflection of the idols in the story. Please let me know if you would like to be included in the tag list.

A/A/N: Introducing Enhypen. hehet! Also, this hasn’t been edited as much. Shoutout to people I’ve been talking to about this, or at least bits of this. haha. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Two

San and Hongjoong stood across the street from the large boutique, the word Montague on display above in gold set against a black background with a gold border. It looked similar to the displays on toy stores overseas, mannequins holding handbags that San knew probably cost millions. He made sure to dress appropriately in the hopes of passing off as a model, as Mirae figured they would likely only entertain those who worked in fashion. Hongjoong was conveniently dressed like a designer, but an armed one. “So, this is where we’re supposed to go, huh?” Hongjoong asked.

“Mhmm. We have to pretend like we work in fashion, people that work in that kind of place can be very snooty. We need to move like we can afford everything in there,” San explained, in the hopes of assuring himself.

“Well, let’s get to it, we need to be back by dinner, at least Mirae says so,” Hongjoong nodded.

They crossed the street, San gripping the handle of the door and pulling it open. The interior of the boutique was, as expected, just as fancy-looking as the outside. A black crystal chandelier hung over their heads with the mirrored tile ceilings. The racks of clothing and shelves to display shoes were in a matte black. The mannequins in the middle of the room looked like they were made out of silver and gold. “Wow,” San looked almost in awe of the place.

“Those suits probably cost an arm and a leg,” Hongjoong muttered as they looked around.

“Hello, how may I help you gentlemen?”

They turned around. Behind them was a man dressed all in black, his hair slicked back. “We’re looking for your manager, I’m Kim Hongjoong of Hong Atelier and I’d like to discuss a possible collaboration with your founder, or designer,” He blurted out.

“Oh, you’re looking for Madame Seo,” The man replied. San sensed that there was something off about the way he said her name. “Will you follow me, she’s in her office,” He walked off further down the boutique and up a staircase illuminated with small spotlights above their heads against matte black walls.

“Rather dark in here, isn’t it?” San quipped as they were led down a hall with leopard-print floors.

“Madame Seo prefers it that way. The daylight doesn’t do much for the fabrics, at least that’s what she says,” The man replied, having heard him. He stopped in front of a red door and opened it. “You can wait here while I inform Madame Seo. Make yourselves comfortable, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

Hongjoong and San stepped inside the leopard print themed room, looking even more puzzled at the change of motif in this part of the store. “Quick of you to say something to that guy,” San sat down on the couch, eyes still scanning the room in the hopes of finding anything out of the ordinary.

“It comes with what I used to do,” Hongjoong shrugged, moving around the room to look around. “I see Mirae’s been doing very well,” He muttered.

“She is, she has been for a while now,” San reached for the remote on the side table to turn the television on. “You miss her?”

“I don’t know, but it feels weird to be meeting again outside the padded walls of the sanitarium I came from,” Hongjoong felt the walls, the leopard-printed wallpaper under his fingertips.

The program on the television went black and the sound of the program going static filled the room. San stood up, dropping the remote control. The screen began to show surveillance images of the two of them, before it changed to what looked like an information screen. “They know who we are,” His expression dropped. Hongjoong froze in his place.

The screen went to black again, before more static came on. “I’m good with faces, you have been warned. Don’t snoop around where you’re not supposed to,” said the words that were appearing on the screen.

“Time to go,” San and Hongjoong raced for the door, the former already reaching into his coat for his harpoon gun. As they opened it, they saw the employee, pointing a gun at them.

“We ran your faces, we know who you are,” The man said, gesturing for them to move back into the room. “There’s no Hong Atelier, but there is that sanitarium, right?” He turned to Hongjoong. “As for you? Offshore accounts here and there, taking jobs for lowlife gangs and jealous wives, and you were involved in the Kang mob, both of you are,” He glanced at San. “So, tell us why you’re here.”

“You must be that full of yourself to also refer to yourself in third person,” San said through gritted teeth.

“Oh I’m not alone, I’m never alone,” There was a coldness in the employee’s voice. “At least both of you have each other when you die, Madame Seo isn’t fond of people lying.”

“Lying? That’s rich coming from someone who only has this as a front,” Hongjoong spoke this time.

The employee chuckled. “Oh, believing in that drivel those conspiracy theorists cooked up, are we?”

“She hasn’t denied those and we’re here to find that out.”

San could feel the frustration coming over him. Hongjoong, however, remained calm. “If you’re going to keep that gun pointed at us, you may as well pull the trigger, we know too much now,” He said.

“Good idea,” and just before the employee pulled the trigger, he fell to the floor, blood seeping out from his mouth and from his stomach. The blade that came out from Hongjoong’s sleeve was now dripping with blood.

“There’s going to be more of them, probably,” San peeked outside, the two of them stepping over the body. The other doors along the hall remained closed.

They looked back at the room they were coming from one more time, seeing if there was anything else they missed, until they saw something glinting on the floor. A puddle appeared to be forming from the employee Hongjoong stabbed. It was a puddle of black liquid. “What the- Is this grease?” Hongjoong bent down to look at the puddle closely. “Where’s the test tubes? Did you bring some?”

“Oh yeah, I have one here,” San took out one test tube from his coat pocket and bent down to scoop some of the liquid. “I have a feeling we won’t be let out,” He looked up at the empty hall.

They rushed down the hall and sprinted down the stairs, suddenly hearing screeches and cocked guns coming from behind them. San and Hongjoong skidded to a halt when a few more employees appeared at the landing of the staircase and into the main boutique. All of them were holding weapons. San quickly brandished his harpoon, eyes suddenly glowing as he kicked and punched several out of the way while Hongjoong sliced through the employees behind them with the blades in his sleeves. “This would be easier with my rapier,” He muttered, snapping the necks of some but his eyes widened when he saw how red their eyes were. It was as if they were glowing.

Splatters of black liquid hit their faces and staining their clothes as they fought their way through the boutique. Hongjoong pushed the mannequins over in an attempt to block the rest from attacking them while San did the same with the clothes racks in the middle of the store. From under the racks and the mannequins was a compartment that they saw had small packets of what looked like light gold powder. San snatched a few while Hongjoong hopped over to the front desk, grabbing whatever files he could get his hands on. “So much for taking the direct approach,” He fired his harpoon through a few, the blades as his eyes glowed, stunning each one of them.

The two of them returned to the fray, fighting their way through the store and disarming the employees who were still standing, using their weapons against them. Hongjoong nearly dodged one and as one was about to open fire at them, the next thing he realized was that they were both outside the store, the two of them on the sidewalk, with the doors slamming shut. “...What just happened?” San spoke, stunned at how they ended up on the sidewalk, getting back up on their feet. He looked down, feeling a kind of nausea sink in.

“I-I don’t know,” Hongjoong was just as stunned as he got up, sliding the blades back in place in his sleeves. He looked down at his hands, noticing some unusual glow, that soon spread up to his arms and all over his body. San stared at him, seeing the unusual static glow. “...What’s happening to me?”

“I don’t know either, but maybe this was what Junhong hyung meant when he said you may or may not have powers, let’s go!” The two of them ran across the street and into the car.

Yunho approached the front desk of Kang Tower. It had been a year since he last set foot in the building, noticing how much had changed in a span of 12 months. From the minimalist Japanese-themed interiors last year, the changes he figured Yeosang made now made everything about the place in the art deco style, the walls and marble floors having geometric shapes for patterns, crystal chandeliers above their heads. The interior seemed to be a stark contrast to how it looked outside.

He stopped in front of the information board, figuring out what floor Yeosang was probably on. He could always teleport if he couldn’t find him where he first stopped. As soon as Yunho figured out the likely place, he rushed into a shadowy hall where he disappeared, reappearing in a dark hallway that he quickly realized was Yeosang’s penthouse. Just like the design of the interior of the whole building, Yeosang’s penthouse was decorated in the same art deco manner.

“Kang Yeosang?” Yunho called out as he walked further down the hall, the chandelier above illuminating the entire area. He looked around, creeping into the very bare yet equally opulent-looking kitchen. He was not there.

Yunho went into a shadowy part of the hall again, reappearing in what looked like an empty conference room. From the looks of how everything seemed to be set up, he figured that a meeting was going to be taking place. The doors opened and in came the mutant himself, his hair now dyed black and was slightly shorter than his previous blonde hairstyle. Yeosang stopped in his tracks upon seeing Yunho and turned to the group of businessmen behind him. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind waiting a while, I will have a word with this man over there,” He gestured to the taller.

The group of businessmen nodded, dispersing into the hall, likely going to the waiting area. Yeosang closed the door behind him and Yunho sat down on one of the chairs. “It’s been a while, Yeosang, we need to talk,” He said.

“By all means, I assume you didn’t just come here because you wanted to hang out anyways,” Yeosang sat down on the nearest chair. “Having trouble, Yunho?”

“Well, not really, I’m personally not in trouble, but there are other people that would be once you tell me what I’m going to ask,” Yunho said.

“Then ask.”

“Madame Seo. Do you know her?” Yunho noticed Yeosang’s expression stiffen at the question. He said nothing. “Kang Yeosang, I need you to tell me what you know about her, how you know her, all of that.”

Yeosang broke into a small smile. “Jeong Yunho, are you really going to tell me all about that conspiracy theory going all over the internet? That’s old news.”

“Nothing’s confirmed, nothing’s denied either, I might as well find the truth out for myself,” Yunho was quick to match up to him. “I mean, Mirae-”

“Ah, Mirae,” Yeosang cut him off. “She knows, huh?”

“Would you rather she be the one asking you this?” Yunho raised a brow, making Yeosang’s smug expression fall. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you speak to her, you know. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“Oh, that tactic, huh?” Yeosang chuckled. “Yunho, you’re a new immortal, you haven’t lived as long as I have...yet, to know that this kind of interrogation has already been done to me before. It gets old, if you pardon the pun.”

“Then tell me what you know about Madame Seo,” Yunho pressed on. “Or how you know her if you do know her.”

“She’s a hostess,” Yeosang replied. “That’s all she is.”

“Oh yeah? So she doesn’t own a clothing brand called Montague?”

“It’s possible the Seo that owns Montague is a different one, you know,” Yeosang pointed out. “But seeing as I can tell you plan on using your Mirae on me again in asking, Madame Seo is a hostess, that just so happens to own a clothing brand.”

“A high-end clothing brand,” Yunho corrected him. “You must pay her a lot for her to put up that expensive a brand, that coincidentally hardly anyone knows about.”

“Oh I’m not her only client, and that was years ago, I haven’t been paying for the services of her girls in a while,” Yeosang scoffed.

“Are any of those girls actresses? Aspiring actresses? Singers?” Yunho asked.

“You think I was personally asking for their services on me?” Yeosang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “To answer your question, no I wasn’t, I could tell the difference between a regular worker there and someone who was forced to do all those things.”

Yunho nodded. “Just when we thought you were coming around, we find out about this. What else do you know about her?”

Yeosang stared at him. “She was a hostess to me, that’s that. However, she does have a hold on many powerful people in this country.”

“What is she holding over their heads?”

Yeosang smiled. “Time’s up, I’m afraid, I have a meeting with those businessmen and they would not appreciate being kept waiting.”

Yunho got up, feeling frustrated. “Alright, fine. But I wonder what hold she has on you,” He eyed the shorter male before leaving. As soon as he stepped out, the crowd of businessmen flocked inside the room. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he knew there were still some things he could find out even without Yeosang telling him. It wouldn’t make sense if Madame Seo knew he was a mutant and was using it against him. Yunho figured that Yeosang didn’t really care if anyone else outside their circle knew as no one would believe them anyway.

He approached the dark part of the hall and in a second, reappeared in another room in the building. Yeosang’s office. Yunho felt a tinge of relief upon noticing the nameplate on the desk. For an elaborately decorated building, Yeosang’s office was a little less opulent-looking but remained in the art deco style. Yunho figured if there was anything he could find, Yeosang’s

office would be the most likely place. There were plaques on the walls, showing the successes of the Kang Organization, some of them the deals that were made.

Yunho froze when he heard footsteps heading in the direction of the office. From the silhouette that was shown from the frosted window, it was an office clerk, Yeosang’s executive secretary. He hid on the side of the desk by the window when the secretary opened the door. The footsteps got louder, the clinking of her heels echoing throughout the office.

“Yes, Mr. Kang, I will be there with your proposal,” She said to someone, opening the drawers on the side nearest to Yunho, making him shift even more to keep himself hidden. “Yes? Oh, the Montague file? It’s just here, Mr. Kang.” He perked up when he heard the name of the brand. Yunho listened carefully. “Montague, Montague, and the Kang Entertainment deal, yes it’s all here, Mr. Kang,” The secretary spoke again, and a shuffling of paper later and the door closed again.

Yunho got up to his feet, his lips pursed in frustration. He quietly looked into the drawers of Yeosang’s desk until he came across a photo of Mirae, taken at Sky Sushi by possibly one of the event’s photographers. It reminded him of his previous assertion, and at this point he didn’t even care to get jealous. Yunho looked through the rest of his drawers, finding neatly stacked and filed papers. “Where are the Montague and Kang Entertainment files,” He muttered as he looked through the stacks for any indication of at least one of the two before searching the bigger drawers at the bottom and the wooden file cabinet in another part of the room.

In a sea of black leather folders, Yunho stopped at one of them that had a label “MTG” in gold. He quietly took it out from under the stack and opened it. It was a document detailing his financial stake in Montague. He looked at the date it was all signed. It was in the same year that the actress whose husband left her for Madame Seo was killed. Yunho closed the folder and looked through the files again for any mention of Kang Entertainment.

Yunho searched another one of the bigger drawers, looking through the labels of the files when he stopped upon seeing a black leather folder labeled “Kang Entertainment.” Before he could open the file, he heard footsteps from the same secretary again. Yunho closed the drawers, one of them closing with a slight thud, that made the secretary walk faster. Taking the files, he went into the dark corner and vanished.

Mirae pulled over across the street from Kang Entertainment. She made sure to look a little more presentable, knowing that she was going to do. She wasn’t even sure what she would find in that place, possibly full of celebrities and the people that practically work for them. This was just like Hyuk’s workplace, only she didn’t know anyone, and she wasn’t sure if there were mutants among them either. She ran across the street, past a group of fans that were staring at the doors, possibly to wait for any idols to come out.

“I’m here and I’m going in,” She said to the communicator to Junhong.

“Good luck. I put you in their appointment system, they should have your alias written down,” Junhong said before they hung up.

Figuring out the other entrance, she stepped inside and approached the front desk. “Hello, I’d like to speak to the CEO? I’m Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine and I was supposed to interview him today,” She said the rehearsed coverup she had.

The concierge nodded, looking through a monitor. “Ah yes, Cha Jihyun. The executive offices are through the hall on the left, you can make your way there,” They gestured to the corner.

“Thank you,” Mirae exhaled in relief as she walked off, eyeing every detail of the place she was in. There were framed photos of their artists and posters of movies and dramas of the actors they had.

The farther she went into the company, she passed by a training room where three boys seemed to be dancing, music blasting from their speakers, possibly for their comeback. One boy was wearing a bright red, the other one was wearing orange, and the boy in glasses was wearing a vivid purple. In the corner of the practice room, Mirae saw more movie posters that included the names and faces of the victims. “Hello,” Someone said behind her, making her turn around.

“Oh hello,” Mirae bowed. Four boys dressed in green, pink, a faded blue, and yellow were standing in front of her, all of them holding bubble tea and ice cream.

“Are you looking for someone?” The boy in yellow and wearing round glasses said. “Are we getting interviewed today?”

“Oh no, no, I was just passing by. You must be a new group,” Mirae sensed something unusual about them.

“Yes we are, we just debuted last year,” The boy in the faded blue hoodie with matching jogging pants replied.

“Ah, I see,” Mirae nodded, unable to shake off the unusual feeling she was getting from all of them, especially the boy wearing pink and the blonde boy wearing green. “Well, good luck in your career, I should be going now,” She stepped back, bowing to greet them one more time before turning around to walk down the hall that led to the CEO’s office.

“Please interview us next time!” She heard them say from a distance. Mirae could sense the lingering stares from the four boys the more she walked towards the door.

As she finally stopped in front of the door that had the CEO’s name on it with a woman who was his secretary, seated behind her desk nearby. “Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine?” She said.

“That’s me,” Mirae raised her hand.

“Please go inside the office, he is currently in a meeting and he’ll be with you shortly,” The woman gestured to the door. Mirae bowed in thanks before entering.

Once she was inside, she took in her surroundings. The CEO’s office was very spacious, very modern-looking, with three tall shelves of figurines and plaques of the agency’s achievements and sales. Mirae sat down at the very end of the couch, closest to the desk. Everything she would want to know would likely be in that computer, she figured, eyeing the laptop and the monitor on the desk.

The door opened again, and to her surprise, in came the four boys. “Our CEO said to keep you company,” The boy in yellow spoke as he sat down next to her, while the boy in pink leaned against the desk in front of her. “We’re very close to him, we’re like his sons,” He mused.

“Oh, I would’ve thought you were all back to practicing or something,” Mirae eyed them. “With what you’re all wearing.”

“Oh this?” The boy in pink giggled, while the boys in blue and green exchanged knowing looks, a smirk creeping up on the face of the boy wearing green. “We were recording a video for our fans!”

“Oh, we’ve been very silly, we should introduce ourselves, right?” The boy in yellow glanced at his colleagues, who nodded. “I’m Jungwon.”

“Sunoo,” said the boy in pink.

“Jay,” said the boy in green.

“And I’m Sunghoon,” said the boy in blue.

“For a rookie group, you all certainly don’t act like it,” Mirae glanced at each of them, acknowledging their introductions. The boys only chuckled in response.

“You have a very pretty neck,” Jay suddenly said.

“...Thanks,” Mirae stared at him for a moment. “I guess.”

“I mean it,” Jay sat down on her other side. “A very pretty neck.”

“Shouldn’t you be flirting with girls your own age? Or younger?” Mirae sensed that Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Sunoo were also looking at her the same way Jay was at that moment. They were looking at her rather … hungrily.

“Age is but a number, and a state of mind,” Jungwon muttered, also staring at her neck.

“We can’t date anyway, at least for a few years,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re all acting like vampires,” Mirae watched them closely.

“It’s also our concept,” Sunoo giggled, Sunghoon smirking from where he stood.

“Ah,” Mirae remained calm, figuring them out. “It’s funny you should mention my neck because, people from this agency were murdered, with marks on their wrists and necks…” She studied their faces for any change in reaction. If she wasn’t hearing things, she would’ve sworn she heard Jungwon hiss.

“Their blood must’ve tasted good,” Sunghoon shuddered.

“In that case, you wouldn’t want mine,” Mirae stood up, understanding completely what she was into.

That made Jay and Jungwon stand up, the four boys walking up to her. “We won’t know if we don’t try,” Sunghoon reached for her hand and turned it over to look at her wrist. “All that running through your veins, I haven’t had my meal yet.”

“You probably should,” Mirae snatched her hand back, her eyes widening when their faces had twisted and changed completely.

Their eyes turned red and fangs grew out from their teeth. “We will,” Sunoo giggled again.

13 notes · View notes

daiskken · 3 years

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My Hero Academia: SEASON 4 thoughts

Season 3 ends with a few intruductions for season 4, On the hero side we get to know the top students also known as THE BIG 3. Nejire, is your standard girl with outgoing personality, Amagiki is a bunch of anxiety in an elf costume and Mirio is the BIGGEST GOOFBALL and i love him. To be honest I’m still not sure why Nejire’s life force beams make her Top 3. Mirio being basically a ghost is ovbiously busted and Amagiki’s manifest quirk is super versitile, so yeah they do deserve the title.

OVERHAUL ARC

On the villain side we meet Overhaul and his gang of plague doctor cosplayers (maybe MHA takes place in 2020 as well) And they basically wanna fight with Shigaraki’s crew for the number 1 spot. i gotta say i love that it’s not just Heroes VS Villains. the meeting ends with Magne dead (RIP) and Mr Compress with one arm. For now it’s a stand by, but if we know something about Shigaraki is that he doesn’t like second place.

All this new characters meet when the new work studies put Deku alonside Mirio working together for Sir Nighteye, who SURPRISE is All Might’s old sidekick and things Mirio should be the holder of One for All, so yeah relationship status: complicated for everyone.

We basically learn that Overhaul can destroy and recunstruct stuff and is using a poor girl named Eri as supplies for an anti-quirk bullet, pretty fucked up. So all the students who got a work sudy (Tsu,Ochaco,Kirishima and Izuku) get involved in the plans to rescue her alongside the big 3 and a bunch of pros.

From this first few episodes i enjoy the darker tone of the season, how depressed Deku is thinking about Eri and specially how we see Ida and Todoroki cheer him up. A thing i probably should’ve said when the Bakugo rescue team went to Kamino is how much i like that the frienships in this show feel real and earned. In One Piece we get Luffy helping his crew when they got recruted but after their intro is done it feels like Luffy is 10 steps above everyone. In my hero Deku has helped his classmates as much as they help him and while in a meta way he is the main character, he isn’t treated as such. We are allowed to see him down from something as real as stress and we are allowed to give heroic moments to Kirishima when he becomes the spotlight of 2 or 3 episodes.

So going into Overhaul’s basement we learn his motivation of bringing the Yakuza back and we see he got Twice and Toga as exchange employees. I’m gonna skip most of it cuz the first few fights don’t really matter, flashbacks are the key we see Mirio and Amagiki’s friendship inspiring each other (what Bakugo and Deku could be) We see Kirishima’s insecure past under his hard skin (with a cameo of Mina) and we see Toga and Twice play by their own rules and tip the scale towards the good side for once. If there’s something to like about shigaraki is how much he values his team.

Unlike overhaul who just puts his team as obstacles on the way to the exit, thankfully Mirio can go past walls and thus punch him in the face a few times and take Eri under his cape (what would Edna Mod say) but when it seems all will end well, the bleak tone of this arc comes back and Mirio loses his quirk, Nighteye gets impaled and Overhaul becomes a fusion. (I’m so glad Toga and Twice are here cuz we need some relief) Anyway, in an effort to save the situation Eri jumps into Deku’s arms and we learn the real power she has that has been exploited into the anti-quirk bullets REWIND. This lets Deku kick ass at 100% and win the day. Much more epic in the anime and so glad that 40+ chapters became just 13 episodes.

With Overhaul defeated Shigaraki takes his revenge in the coolest scene so far and cuts his arms making him quirkless. He also steals the few anti-quirk bullets that exist. it’s trully a moment when you cheer for him, but again he got the help from Dabi and Mr Compress, i wanna see him alone in season 5

Unfortunally Nighteye dies, solving old grudges with All might and using is last bit of foresight to tell his almost-son Mirio that he’ll still get to be a hero.

SCHOOL FESTIVAL

After we go back to UA we get a bit of normality back as Todoroki and Bakugo take their extra lessons with a bunch of kids they gotta babysit, It’s a fun setting for the real plot to happen. Endeavor seeks advice from All Might on how to be the new Nº 1 hero,

This half of the season is clearly a breather as we get to enjoy peace while planning the school festival, with music, fanfic plays, a beauty contest and an evil youtuber who just wants to enter (even tho he ain’t on the guest list) Clearly Gentle isn’t a big threat but i do like his power and his backstory that shows what happens when you try hard but still fail. We get a confrontation of desires, Deku wants to protect the festival so Eri can smile and start being a regular child, while Gentle just wants to be acknoledged as someone who made an impact on the world, if not as hero as villain. Obviously Deku wins but makes gentle see the error of his ambitions.

And we get to the last 2 episodes where we rank the new TOP 10 heroes, meet Hawks a young, cocky and laid back hero who doesn’t like rehearsed speeches, and taunts Endeavor only to later ask for his help with some Nomu rumors. Turms out it was true and now we get one that can talk and Endeavor is kinda forced into his first big fight since All-Might retired. frankly buildings being cut into small cubes seems a bit over the top, but hey it doesn’t happen often so i’ll let it fly. Speaking of flying we also see Hawks in action with his feather control/ wings, COOL. We see panicked faces who think Endeavor will fail while he struggles to deliver the final blow (losing an eye and some ribs trying)

If All Might was the symbol of peace, Endeavor is the symbol of endurance, glowing like a second sun in the sky providing light in this dark times.

The season ends his redemption arc with Todoroki worried for his father despite the child abuse he suffered and with Deku having a dream where he sees the rest of One for All holders and his powers activating in his sleep.

What will happen? Well manga readers know and i have a few guesses cuz it’s hard to like someting and avoid spoilers a full year but it’s time to see it in action as SEASON 5 SRARTS TODAY

#my hero academia #bnha #review

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prodeux101 · 3 years

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네이버NOW®

tune in for another thrilling episode of naver’s NOW tonight at 8pm kst! tonight’s guest is none other than a known personality among the media—from influential figures like politicians, actors, musicians and tapping into the idol industry’s pool of talents with her knack for productions, here’s song sumin from dual productions!

이제 막 시작했어요! 8시에 시작해요! #네이버NOW

HIGHLIGHTS OF TONIGHT’S TALK

host: now that we’ve covered the ice breakers and introduced you to the listeners, let’s delve into something deeper. you’ve been in the scene for around.. 6-7 years, right?

sumin: that’s right, yes. i started in 2014. (nods)

host: was it difficult at the beginning? or did you already know people in the industry before then?

sumin: there were internships and i applied to the companies i liked and thought i could flourish in. i had a few setbacks but i eventually landed a spot in dual and worked my way up.

host: you certainly went up, up, up with that. look at you. you could be the face of dual at this point. (the screen flashes images of sumin representing the company in several events like movie premieres and product launches)

sumin: that’s too much. hah, hello to our boss! director kangmin! (waves at a camera on the left but the host then guides her on which camera to look at) thank you for letting me go on this show. i am grateful. i won’t let you down.

host: thank you so much, kangmin-nim. (slow claps) wah, we have to send him a gift basket for letting us kidnap your most precious employee. (does a full 90-degree bow while the staff members can be heard chuckling)

host: you have a long list of powerful people linked to your name. one of which is son jihye. world-class prima ballerina. ah.. you two even had a photoshoot once a year ago. you seem to be the best of friends. (screen shows a-cuts of the photoshoot held in the past) how did that shoot feel like?

sumin: it was just like this-

host: like this?

sumin: it’s a bit nerve-wracking for me. i’m so used to being behind the cameras that it’s more comfortable. being on the spotlight takes some getting used to. but for that shoot, jihye helped in making me comfortable.

host: it looked so good. i hope you get more opportunities for shoots like this. (shows a copy of the magazine and flips it right to the centerpage so that the camera can focus on the couple shots widespread and collated on different pages) there’s people you’ve worked with and some people you know around the industry. care to name five people you know but not a lot probably do? unexpected names, perhaps?

sumin: ah- okay. hm. jennie! from gentle monster and nieeh.. we’ve known each other for a long time. we sometimes travel too! our last trip was last year, we went to europe. second one would be- ah, have you heard of.. kim hanbin?

host: jennie, wow.. big name in the fashion in dustry. (makes a count using their fingers) ah, BØRNH8R hanbin?! or is this a different hanbin. the idol? or..

sumin: yes! him! we’ve only been introduced to each other recently. he’s a chill guy, definitely worth all the praise. we meet similar faces and we bump into each other so it was easy to befriend..

host: alright, that’s two! (waves the hand for the count)

sumin: hmmm..

host: you don’t have to explain, it’s alright. (studio plays a sound that counts down to playfull rush sumin into naming names) three more.

sumin: miya, jung soojung from mbc, bang jisoo, haru, and.. and.. sehun of exo! (hastily mentions each name, unconsciously oversharing due to the rush)

host: (claps as the staff gives a round of applause too when sumin raps out the names so fast) wow.. (two thumbs up) she even named seven, wow..

host: with all that we’ve discussed today. you’ve accomplished so much. what’s next for song sumin?

sumin: i have a non-disclosure agreement so i can’t really divulge much of the information-

host: (laughs) she’s so professional, we can’t catch gossip here.

sumin: if you wanted gossip, you should have invited me for the saturday show! (refers to another show on the platform that airs every saturday, with topics usually circulating on show business and the latest local and international celebrity news of the week)

host: (laughs even harder)

sumin: but i can tell you one thing! there’s at least three more big events for our company this year.

host: she says one thing then claims there’s three.. (laughs) that’s more than enough information. thank you. i think the listeners and viewers are bound to get excited because dual hosts some of the most buzz-worthy occasions so let’s all look forward to them!

host: we’ve received a lot of callers tonight. a lot of fans.

sumin: thank you! i didn’t expect them to really call.. i told my friends about this but it’s a tuesday so i really didn’t expect them to make time. i’m touched.

host: your friends are so supportive, really.. i think one of them even sent flowers to the studio. it’s- (staff shows the flowers) there! wah.. such good friends. you can thank them on air, if you want.

sumin: (hesitantly looks for the camera then flashes a grin) taro-yah! sehunnie.. soojung. haru! nao bb. rj my #1 ig stories supporter!! (pauses briefly, thinking hard before smiling) chaeyeon.. (the camera focuses on her faces as she does a cheeky finger heart) thank you.. if i forgot anyone, please don’t kill me..

host: yes, please don’t attack her. we’re all overwhelmed by the greetings. thank you so much for watching the show. ah, wait-

host: there are a lot questions here on the page now.. it’s filling up the page, honestly. A LOT. someone’s even spamming your name here and there’s another asking for your number.. isn’t this a virus already?!

staff: (laughter)

host: no, seriously! look at this guy! (shows the screen of the tablet they were holding and lets the camera zoom in on the pinned comment that says: ‘hand in marriage, song sumin’)

sumin: (scrolls through the comments, smiling at each one as she reads some of the funniest)

host: that’s enough, guys. the list is refreshing too fast, she can’t even read the long, moving ones..

staff: (points out that the comment section then buffers and moves faster this time)

sumin: (talks to the host, smiling as she points out particular portions on the comment section)

host: ah, here’s one of the notable comments! it seems to be from someone you know! (reads)

As expected of Song Sumin, you did great! It was fun listening to your radio show appearance! Will we get to see more? I'm looking forward to it, main girl! ㅋㅋㅋ

sumin: that’s my friend. yuko eonnie, hi!! (waves enthusiastically while reading the rest of the comment section)

host: i give up! i might as well send love calls to our guest. the viewer numbers are pretty high, i think? based on the livestream, according to pd-nim. it’s high, right?

pd: (with the face obscured from the camera’s view, a thumbs up could be seen as the camera focuses on a dark part at the back of the studio)

additional gift for tonight’s listeners:

comment down below or send in your favorite parts of tonight’s segment and you might just win a polaroid picture of our host and tonight’s special guest! deadline is on september 1, 1:00pm kst. send in as many answers as you want. six winners will be chosen via electronic raffle! write your answers NOW! ^^

✂ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

credit for image on the gif’s background: red light - diaz tech credit for sumin’s gifs (seulgi) (which mun didn’t get to use however we are crediting anyway): @hi_ccheese & @DAY_One210 + ksg fansites (i forgot) (i’m sorry) (forgive me)

#naver logs #bio #song of songs

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.6

a/n: uhm... a lot happens here tbh xD its pretty long tho ;)

warnings: this cannot be read solo, a bit of harassment

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03

The ride was quick and you were now facing the entrance of the hotel. The facade of the hotel looked like it was fresh from a Gatsby movie. Golden lights illuminated every few meters of the hotel making it glow ethereally. Counting the floors from your window, you estimated it to be 8 or 9 floors. It was extravagant. Nothing more to it.

When the car drove to the entrance, the doorman was quick to open the door once the car came to halt. It was a surprise when Overhaul offered his arm to help you get out of the vehicle, in those killer heels, you had to accept. Biting your inner cheek, you had to admire how solid his arm was and how classy his tux felt.

The contact was short. Once he saw you were out, he wasted no second of removing his arm from your hand. Walking 5 steps ahead, you didn’t bother complaining with his actions. Somehow, it was also better this way. This gave you more opportunities to move freely.

The same doorman quickly opened the main entrance and even asked for your coat.

Once the coat was gone, you felt the chilly wind graze your back. It wasn’t too much to handle, of course. Your body just had to adjust. As you were thanking the employee, you failed to see how your companion did a double take when he saw just how classy you looked in your outfit. He would never say it but, he caught himself just before his jaw could drop any further. Thank goodness he had the mask.

“You clean up nicely.” He commented.

You matched his pace effortlessly and realized that he had just complimented you. Facing him, your mouth formed a small ‘o’ and once again, you blinded him with a smile. Strangely enough, even for him, it was satisfying.

“You just complimented me~” Your voice was playful and the cheeky grin on your face was something you just couldn’t hold back. “You look sanitized yourself.”

Underneath the mask, he couldn’t fight back the developing smirk. This would be an interesting night, he was almost certain.

Calling to mind the invitation, the event would take place in the biggest event hall the establishment had. Once you were inside the elevator, the built in LCD screen monitor showed to you which floor you had to go to. As soon as the screen was tapped, the elevators went up and the music began to play.

Of all the things your mind could have thought of, you recalled what Gei said. On how if he were to ever disappear when the food would come, you could find him in the men’s toilet. Lowering your head, you tried to hold back your laughter. It all backfired when you ended up snorting.

“What’s so funny?” Overhaul asked. His eyes remained focused on the LCD screen.

“Nothing that concerns you…” You replied. Fingers covering a portion of your mouth. Curse Gei and his imagination. Clearing your throat, you quickly changed the subject. “So, what exactly is going to happen in the gala?”

“From what I have gathered, the head of the Fukuo Kai wants to gather a few villains to join him.”

“How would he do that though?”

The doors opened and both of you were now facing a hallway, letting you step out first, he followed shortly. Both of you walking side by side, with a safe distance in between. The hallway floors were carpeted red and the entire area smelled of roses. Noticing that he was still silent, he was probably thinking what ways the boss could gather people.

“It would probably depend on his mood.” He finally answered.

When the event hall was now in front of you, rope barriers lined up showing you where to go. Though there was really no need since it was just a straight walk from where you stood. There was a golden podium with 2 uniformed staff ready to greet you both.

“Names?” The taller one asked.

“Shinoda.” Overhaul answered.

Now that you heard him saying a name, it had dawned to you that the profile you had for him did not include his real name. Surely that wasn’t his real name. The way he said it so nonchalantly made it look so natural. What was his name? It would be a rather personal question to ask and that was something you weren’t ready for. Not yet, at least.

When the doors were open, the soft classical music serenaded your ears. The lights were dim but the spotlight on the stage was bright as ever. Tailing behind your partner, he brought you to a high top bar near a large window. He thought it would be a good vantage point to quietly observe people.

A waiter came by and filled your water goblets up. Observing the room, there were still plenty of vacant tables. It had only been 20 minutes since you left the house, so there was still 40 left to kill.

“How did you get the invite, Shinoda?” You asked him. It was weird saying that name. Somehow, it just didn’t fit his face. “It was sent to the Shie Hassaikai.” He replied as he began to remove the strap from his right ear. Holy shit. He was actually going to take his mask off. Except, there was a gut feeling in you that didn’t want him to.

“Wait…” You managed to speak. He froze in place, his smooth cheek now partially exposed. What you'd give to see all of him but things just felt off around here. It was as if a pair of eyes were watching your every move. Playing it off as a normal conversation, you broke eye contact and surveyed the area once more. “Don’t take your mask off.”

How you told him subtly hit different. He didn’t really care if people saw him without the mask during an event like this. Yes, he’s the Shie Hassaikai boss but he preferred to stay away from the limelight. Were you actually thinking of his safety despite him being more than capable of defending himself? Either way, he placed the strap back on and watched as the hall became packed.

With the hall now jam packed, the both of you went separate ways but agreed to come back after 30 minutes.

Blending in with the group was basic to you. What made things difficult was the possibility of Akuji catching your train of thought. Trying to look for a familiar face, you were only met by stares from the guests.

“Looking for me, pretty lady?” A voice said from behind you. Turning around you were met with a man with piercing gray eyes. His hair kept back and his stubble framing his jaw. Stretching a hand, you accepted it out of courtesy. “Name’s Akuji.”

Swiftly transferring his grip to your wrist, he pulled you towards a secluded high top table. Yanking you even closer, he snaked his arm around your waist and held on to your side firmly.

“So what’s a fine lady like you doing in a gala like this?” His face, a little too close for your liking.

“I’ve heard about you.” There was no room for thinking. Whatever came to your thoughts, you had to say it. “You have a pretty strong quirk. What brings you here?”

“I have some business to deal with. You with someone, sweetcheeks?”

“My boss.”

“And who might that ‘boss’ be?” He brushed his nose on your cheek. Feeling you trying to push yourself away, he tightened his grip on your waist and pulled you in even tighter. The faint smell of mint and cigarette was not the best scent.

“Shinoda.” You promptly answered. Saving no room for complaining thoughts. “Though, he will be displeased if he sees you groping me like this. He’s quite known for his anger issues.”

“A threat?” His eyes widened with delight. Just as he was about to talk, a deep voice introduced itself. Turning both of you around, you stared at an old but muscular man. His hair gray, face a tad wrinkled, but his frame showed years of hard work. “Ah. Just who I wanted to see.”

“Still cornering women, Akuji?” The man said. He rested his elbow on the bar and eyed you. A satisfied nod followed as he looked at the man still touching your waist. “What’s your name?”

“I was instructed not to casually give my name.” That was a good one. But was it good enough? “He says not to trust anyone here.”

“Fair enough.” The old man replied. Looking back at Akuji, he cleared his throat and reached for something in his breast pocket. Extending his hand, a business card sat snuggly in between his index and middle finger. Akuji stared at the card and hummed.

“Well, it would be a pleasure~” He shortly tucked his hand and the card in his pocket. “Till then.”

It had barely been 5 minutes and the two men had already gone separate ways. Akuji, however, still kept his hold on you. His actions had changed from groping to steady up and down movements. It was evident he was enjoying the sensation of touching another woman.

“Sir,” You finally had enough. This would be the second time someone defiled you today and you were not living. “If you don’t let go of me I swear, there will be consequences.”

“Feisty.”

“Did you not hear what she said?”

Glancing over your shoulder, you were more than relieved seeing his face. But, the look in his eyes and the aura he was giving was something you had not felt before. His usual calm features were replaced with his eyebrows pulled down together. The same golden eyes you came to adore were glaring at the man holding on to you. His fingers began to play with the hems of his left hand’s glove.

“Shinoda-san!” Akuji greeted Overhaul. His palms remained glued to your dress. “What happened to that previous secretary of yours? The one with blue hair? Was he not to your liking?”

“Akuji.” Overhaul’s voice was deep and his jaw clenched. You watched as he freed his hand from the rubber confinement. “Let her go.”

You felt your mind lighten. His grip on your thoughts was now nonexistent. If your hypothesis was right, Akuji was now focused on reading Overhaul’s mind. Perhaps that was his quirks downfall, he could only do it one person at a time…

“Someone’s protective of their employee~” Akuji taunted Overhaul. Either this man was dumb or just plain fearless. Attempting to hold on to Overhaul’s wrist, he managed to read his mind and went with the left one instead. When his hand made contact with Overhaul’s exposed skin, he saw the look of hatred and disgust in his eyes.

“This is why I don’t like attending events like these.” Lifting his other hand, you saw how he had overhauled his left hand’s glove. Not wanting to catch attention or to cause a scene, you immediately ran and wedged yourself between the two men. Your palm resting on his chest as you pushed him ever so slightly.

“Enough. Shinoda-san.” You tried to calm him down. He was still focused on Akuji. Finding the courage, you managed to snake your hand and cup his masked cheek. Your hands were shaky as you had literally just invaded his personal space even more. When you managed to make him face you, you stared into his pupils and gave him a small smile. “Calm down. Not here. Please.”

Feeling his chest lower as he exhaled, his eyes darted back to Akuji.

“Don’t touch me.” Pulling his wrist away, his free hand held on to your waist as he tugged you closer towards him. “And do not ever touch her with your filthy hands.”

Putting his palms into the air, Akuji took a step back. The picture in Overhaul’s mind was one he would rather not want to read again. Ogling one more time at you, he lowered his head with a smirk before he left the both of you alone.

Allowing yourself to be dragged by him all the way back to your table, you kept stealing glances at his face. He was still angry but his level-headed state was slowly coming back. Upon arriving at the table, he still hadn’t let you go from his hold. Craning your neck to look at him, you waited for him to talk.

“Explain what the hell just happened.”

“I was trying to look for how he would gather people but then I remembered that Akuji would be here. I recalled that he could read minds and I think he used his quirk on me.” You explained. Heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I wanted to think up something but I realized that it would only result in failure.”

Now that you were talking about it, you remembered the exchange they had.

“But I got something out of it. There was this old man who gave him a business card. Perhaps it could be related?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand, he reached for something in his pocket and presented it to you. Your eyes widened when you saw the same one from before.

“That man you just saw was the leader of the Fukuo Kai.” Placing the small piece of paper on the table, he looked at you once more. The look and feel of his anger, gone. “Be more careful. It would be most troublesome to have to clean up any sort of mess.”

Noticing that the skin on his wrist was inflamed, you chewed on your lower lip and felt your guilt rising.

“You’re breaking out.” You pointed out.

“What are you talking about?” The arm wrapped around your waist was feeling fine.

“Your wrist. Where he touched you.”

Right. He forgot about that. Shaking his head, he brushed your statement and told you he could fix it in an instant. Freeing you from his arm, he took a step back and began to heal himself. It was only a small patch of skin so it was gone in a matter of seconds.

Taking the card, you placed it in your purse. Telling him that you got what you needed, he reached for his phone and called for the car to pick the both of you up. The air between you two began to grow more and more tense as the seconds flowed by. It wasn’t long before he received the message that the car was now waiting at the drop-off area.

Inside the elevator, the silence was killing you. The music was nothing but a nuisance.

“Are you mad?” Breaking the silence. He did not answer nor bother to look at you. “Look. I’m sorry, okay? I lowered my guard down for a few seconds and it led to all of this.”

“Learn from what just happened, (L/N).” His eyes eventually found yours. “I might not be there to help you.”

“Thank you, though.” Heat was now rising to your cheeks, you knew it. “For saving me back there.”

The doors opened and you stepped out first. As the both of you walked towards the lobby, you saw the car on the opposite side of the door. The doorman recognized you and immediately went to the back to fetch your coat. Accepting your clothing, you wished him a safe night before exiting the hotel.

Seated in the car once more, you let out a long sigh and leaned onto the backrest. Your trench coat, jacket, and your boxed heels laid in front of you. With everything that had happened, you failed to get any food in your system. The WcMac you ate had already vanished.

“Overhaul.” You were really going to do it.

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry…”

“You’re really burden, do you know that?” Lowering the partition by 2 inches, he faced you once more. “What do you want to eat?”

“Mendy’s…” If you could melt into the leather chairs, you would.

“And stuff your face with grease?” Whatever you could see of his face was etched with annoyance. But the way his pupils were a bit dilated told you otherwise. “Nemoto. Shipotle, now.”

“Shipotle?” You questioned as the partition closed. “You seriously think they’re healthy?”

“No.” He replied flatly. “But they have a decent menu offering healthy meals. Take it or leave it.”

“Fine. I won’t complain.”

After the short drive thru in Shipotle (Nemoto and Chrono also ordered but they didn’t tell), your hands were now full and Overhaul was carrying both your jackets. Quickly opening your door, you placed your food on the small table beside the door and took both your jackets from him. When you saw the jacket your boss defiled, you felt like puking and seized it in your hands.

Overhaul was standing in the lobby. Probably to say farewell.

“I have one last favor.” You lifted the piece of clothing and gestured for him to hold it. “Destroy it.”

“May I ask why?” He wouldn’t mind tearing it apart but the request was all too sudden. Something must have happened a few hours ago, he knew it.

“It’s filthy.” That’s all it took. Witnessing his quirk in action, you saw how the cloth morphed and seemingly exploded into nothing. “Wow.”

“Any more favors?”

“None that I can think of.” You beamed. Once again, you couldn’t see it but his jaw dropped underneath the mask.

“In that case,” He bowed. “I shall take my leave.”

“Good night, Overhaul.”

“And to you, (L/N).”

-----

so.... did yall like the smol interaction with bird daddy? feel free to message me if you have any questions or if you wanna be tagged :) take care!

#overhaul x reader #overhaul #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #chisaki kai x reader #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #chisaki kai

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