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teshamerkel · 3 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 23] (29 Pages)

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It’s finally time for the human convention!

“I’m ditching you both if you don’t hurry up!” Tobias shouts at the open window of their room at the inn. The round, stony Pokémon at the front desk gives him a scolding glare through the building’s open door, which he ignores.

Nia pokes her head out the window to yell, “Hang on, we’re almost ready!” before ducking back inside. She must be too excited to worry about being her usual overly-polite self.

Tobias rolls his eyes. Maybe if the riolu and their annoying rookidee tagalong hadn’t stayed up half the night whispering and giggling like children they wouldn’t have overslept. Tobias had gone to sleep much earlier, when the two started discussing aura and Nia had shown Junie her progress on making solid forms with it.

Finally, Nia and Junie scramble past the disgruntled innkeeper and join Tobias outside, blinking in the harsh noon sun.

“S-Sorry!” Nia puffs. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Let’s just go,” Tobias grumbles.

“Right!” Nia turns to Junie. “Could you lead the way? I’m terrible with directions.”

Junie blinks, then looks to her right. Then her left. A little crease furrows her brow. “Yeah, just...gimme a sec to figure out which way we need to go.”

“Oh, for the love of...” Tobias spins on his heel to lead the way. “You’d get a lot better at situating yourself if you’d actually fly, y’know.”

“You’d be a lot less insufferable if you’d shut up!” Junie chirps back as her and Nia follow. Tobias snorts. That was weak, even for her—she must be too distracted by the day ahead to be her fully irritating self.

Tobias leads the way back towards the convention center, enjoying the deep blue sky and warm weather enough that the loud, jostling crowds seem less awful than yesterday. Nia and Junie chatter behind him, and Tobias adjusts the bag around his shoulders as he tries to drum up the patience to get through the day. Sure, the magic show later on might be kind of cool, but Tobias isn’t sure how to feel about whatever they’re about to walk into. What does a “convention” about humans even involve? He still doesn’t trust Will, and wants to listen to the ghost type ramble on about weird human stuff even less.

But this is important to Nia, so it has to be important to him, too. Part of the deal. Tobias had considered asking if he could go do something else while she attended, especially since they got stuck with Junie for company, but he doesn’t want a repeat of the meltdown at Afon’s Cap. Plus, between Junie’s freak-out at the restaurant last night and Nia’s own words, Tobias isn’t sure either of them are emotionally stable enough to weather another possible breakdown without wandering off and getting trampled or something.

Not that Tobias wants that job either, but…well.

He can’t help thinking about Nia’s shaky smile as she talked Junie down, or how quiet she’d been as she confessed her own fears out loud. He can’t help thinking about Junie trembling and blinking back tears, so different from her usual attitude.

And that makes him think of Maggie in the weeks after they’d first met, when she was still a stranger to him. When she curled around him and soothed his nightmares with her sweet scent. He thinks of the meganium’s sad, knowing eyes and how much safer he’d always felt when he trembled against her side. He thinks of Nia wearing that same expression as she reassured Junie. Thinks of how her smile fell and her gaze grew distant and glassy as soon as she thought no one was paying attention, how her paws clenched against the wooden tabletop.

He knows what it’s like to feel alone and vulnerable and lost. He didn’t think he would ever understand why Nia was so upset about becoming a Pokemon and coming to their world, but...maybe he understands it better than he’d thought.

So he’ll go to the human convention with them, and he’ll hate it, but he’ll deal. And after today, they can spend the rest of the trip focusing on finding info about the outlaw trio, too. A tolerable compromise.

Soon enough their group reaches the plaza from the day before, except today the decorations and stalls are finished and already attracting huge flocks of Pokémon. Banners and flags and flowers are everywhere, tents and wares carefully lined up in a bright storm of movement and voices.

Nia and Junie both stop talking to make awed sounds behind him, but Tobias doesn’t hesitate as he weaves through the many different Pokémon—fire types and heavy ground and rock and steel types, Pokémon that Tobias is unfamiliar with after living in Bethoc’s Haven for so long. He stays locked onto the convention center at the edge of the plaza, grateful that Nia and Junie only slow down a little to gawk at the attractions as they tail him.

“Hurry up. Most of this stuff is either garbage or overpriced anyways,” Tobias says to them, ignoring the offended look a shop owner sends him. He’s been to a few cities before with Maggie, so he’s been warned about how big groups of merchants like this mean there’s always a few bad ones in the mix. “There’s a reason they set up camp where it’s easy to catch tourists’ attention and coin without anything of actual value.”

“But some of it’s so pretty,” Nia protests quietly as they pass an ampharos selling homemade fleece blankets.

“Look, you wanna shop for stuff you can’t afford or go to your dumb convention?”

“The convention, of course! I just thought since we’re still pretty early...” Nia trails off, but doesn’t protest further.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long for them to reach the convention hall, where a huge, purple Pokémon is sitting at the doors like a guard, a grouchy expression on his face. A nidoking, if Tobias remembers correctly. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen one before outside of books. Why would the human convention need a guard of all things?

The nidoking grunts as they approach, but steps aside to let them through with no issue. Maybe he’s just here to keep the merchants out? As they pass, Tobias notes the heavy scars cutting though the Pokémon’s armored hide, the weight behind his movements. Not someone to get in a fight with if you want to win.

Tobias stops as they step inside, surprised by the sheer number of Pokemon milling about. The crowd is giant, filling the entrance hall entirely as they talk and move about in a loud, cheery mass. There are Pokemon here of all types, stages of evolution, and ages, too. An elderly-looking dubwool is guiding a young, bright-eyed lillipup along nearby. A yanma buzzes by overhead, nearly knocking a lost-looking drifloon out of the air. A round, coal-like Pokemon and what might be a curled-up togedemaru roll by in a blur, weaving between the forest of legs.

“Is everyone here a human?” Junie asks, fluttering up to perch on Nia’s shoulder. The riolu, busy looking around in slack-jawed awe, doesn’t respond.

“I think we’d hear about it happening more often if there were this many,” Tobias says, more unsure than he sounds.

“I mean, no one outside of Stonebrook knows I’m human,” Junie points out. “Maybe there’s more of us around than we thought!”

Tobias makes a noncommittal noise in his throat, not sure how to feel about that thought. Nia, however, looks like she’s moments away from bursting into tears.

“Now what?” Tobias groans.

Nia laughs, wiping at her eyes. “S-Sorry, I’m good. It’s just…I feel kind of bad for thinking it because everyone else is stuck here too, but it’s nice. Knowing there are so many other people in the same situation as us. Makes me feel less alone.”

Junie chirps a quiet sound of agreement, and Tobias frowns. After last night, Tobias can kind of understand where Nia is coming from, but she still doesn’t have to make it sound like she’s completely on her own. Half the guild would trips over their paws to help her, for Entei’s sake. Maggie takes care of her, Val is doing her best to train her, and he’s seen firsthand how protective Xander and that deerling’s teams are of her already. Even acquaintances throughout the guild always seem happy to talk to her.

She’s had a much warmer reception than he did.

“Are we gonna go in or stand her and get stepped on?” Tobias grumbles, moving aside as a distracted girafarig nearly trips over the three of them.

“Yeah, let’s go!” Junie cheers, ruffling her feathers but not moving from her spot on Nia’s shoulder.

Nia smiles, nervously, then gives Tobias an expectant look, as if waiting for him to lead the way.

He snorts. “This is your thing. I don’t know where you want to go.”

“O-Oh! Right.” Nia looks more nervous at that, but then takes a deep breath and moves forward through the crowd with a litany of apologies and “excuse me”s.

Further in the building, they find the space opening up to what must be the main room, where the crowd is even more lively than before. Makeshift stands line the walls, and Pokemon crowd around them, talking and laughing. The rich scent of food wafts over them, only adding to the overwhelming energy of the place.

“Where do we even start?” Nia asks, looking torn between excitement and nerves. Her tail wags cautiously behind her as she scans the room.

“Hmm…” Junie hops onto Nia’s head to look around at a slightly higher angle. Then she points with a wing. “How ‘bout we just start over here in one corner and then go around the room? Then we won’t miss anything important!”

Nia lights up and immediately takes the suggestion, leading their group over to the first booth, where a small table is set up with a pile of pamphlets. A scizor and an archen are handing them out to the visiting Pokemon, chatting with them as they do so. Junie flutters forward to grab two of the pamphlets before hopping back to Nia, who catches her in her arms. Junie and Nia both look to Tobias, so he sighs and takes the pamphlets, flipping one open and holding it so all three of them can read it.

“Tips for adapting to your new body,” Nia reads. “Huh. Wow, there’s all kinds of different sections and stuff too. How to write with no arms, controlling tails and other extremities…”

“Oh, look! There’s a section just for flying type Pokemon!” Junie chirps, leaning closer to try and read it. “Does it say anything about being afraid of heights?”

“You’re afraid of heights?” Tobias blurts, bewildered. Nia shoots him a warning look not to push, but he’s too baffled to even make a jab about it. That explains why Junie’s been so evasive about flying low to the ground, but how can a flying type be afraid of heights? Nia at least makes sense--she’s a fighting type. But a rookidee?

Junie’s feathers fluff up as she glares at him. “S-So what? I’m doing just fine!”

Nia cuts them both off before Tobias can retort, voice disappointed. “Oh. Doesn’t look like they say anything about not knowing how to use moves.”

Before anyone can respond to that, they’re distracted by an elekid at the booth talking about accidentally shocking other Pokemon. Everyone around the elekid takes a nervous step away, leaving a ring of space around the electric type.

“Looks like you can ask Pokemon handling the booth some questions,” Tobias points out, nodding to where a krabby is speaking with the scizor. The scizor is demonstrating how he’s holding one of the pamphlets in his giant pincer with a gentle grip. The krabby tries to imitate it with his own claws, and clips the paper in half.

“I guess we just…get in line?” Nia asks more than says. Their group steps up behind an ekans, who slithers forward to take the krabby’s spot after the little water type is given a few more words of advice and encouragement.

“I hate not having arms,” The ekans snaps immediately, not even bothering to introduce herself. The scizor leans back, clearly caught off-guard.

“Oh, mood,” Junie mumbles.

“And legs!” The ekans hisses before the scizor can respond, voice growing louder and more upset like she’s just been waiting to unleash her fury onto someone. “I didn’t even like snakes when I was human—why did I have to turn into one?!”

The scizor shoots the archen a pleading look, but the other Pokemon is busy trying to help a haunter pick up a pamphlet without letting the object slip through intangible hands.

“I’m afraid we don’t know why we turn into the Pokemon we do,” the scizor finally says to the ekans, voice soothing. “But we do have a lot of tips for helping humans who have different physiology. And I know there’s a seviper here who has become really adept with using their tail and mouth instead! She—”

“Where is she?” The ekans hisses, slamming the end of her tail onto the tabletop and cutting him off.

“The typing booth,” the scizor says hesitantly, pointing to a spot several setups down. “She—”

The ekans makes an impatient noise and slips away before the scizor can finish. The bug Pokemon slumps as she leaves, gently rubbing the blunt of his claw over his face.

“Yikes. Looks like the hell of customer service carries over to here too,” Junie says, face screwed up in sympathy.

The quiet chuckle of the scizor catches them off guard. “Yes, in my experience it’s rare to come across someone so…pushy, here. But apparently any kind of human can show up. Do you three have a question I could help you with?”

“O-Oh.” Nia glances at Junie. The little flying type shakes her head no, so the riolu looks back up at the scizor. “Well…do you know if any other Pokemon have had problems, um…using moves?”

The scizor blinks. “You…can’t use moves? Any moves?”

Nia shrinks back. “U-Um. No. I can use aura! B-But…”

The scizor seems to notice Nia’s distress, because he softens his tone. “I haven’t heard of that issue before, no. I could use moves right away, and all of the other humans I’ve spoken to could as well. How long have you been here?”

“A-About a month?”

“Ah. Maybe it’s just taking you a bit longer to adapt to your body then,” the scizor suggests. “Tell you what, there’s a bronzor here named Seiji working somewhere around the typing stall, and I know he’s a psychic type, which sounds like it could be similar to what you’re working with. He’s smart, too. I think he used to be a scientist, and he loves a good puzzle. You should ask him about it, see if he has any ideas on what may be wrong.”

“Thank you,” Nia says, offering a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Tobias is guessing that she’s thinking of Val, and how if she couldn’t help then some other random psychic type probably won’t be much better. Then again, this is a psychic Pokemon who was human beforehand. Maybe that makes a difference somehow

“Excuse me, rookidee?”

They turn to look at the archen, who is using the lull in conversation to smile nervously at Junie.

“I heard you earlier,” the archen confesses. “Sorry for eavesdropping. But I just wanted to say that it took me a long while to be able to fly, too.”

Junie perks up. “Really?”

Archen nods, looking relieved at the rookidee’s interest. “Yes! It took me months before I could finally get myself into the air. I met a kind pidgeotto willing to help teach me, actually—”

Junie wiggles out of Nia’s hold to hop onto the table, closer to the archen, and listen to his advice.

The scizor is busy asking Nia if she’s struggling with anything aside from her moves, and she asks him about getting better control over her ears so they don’t broadcast her emotions quite so openly.

Tobias, a little bored, idly flips through one of the pamphlets in his claws. On the second page, he pauses as he sees…pictures. Of humans, he supposes. They’re sketched out in quick, messy strokes—they’d have to be, to be drawn onto so many pamphlets—but they’re skillfully done. Maybe drawn by a smeargle? Curious despite himself, Tobias peers closer at them.

He’d thought idly about what humans looked like before, of course. All Pokemon did. There’s probably imagery of them in some old books somewhere since humans have been showing up for so long, but he’d never really gone looking for them, even after Nia showed up. Nia has always just been Nia, a (mostly) regular riolu. It’s weird to think of her as one of these strange creatures instead.

There’s two of them in the drawing, smiling at each other. They have a build somewhat similar to him and Nia—two legs, two arms, a face with two eyes and a mouth. There’s a strange mane of hair on top of their heads, and something like a second skin—like a throh or a hitmonchan has—on their torsos. Huh. If this is how humans usually look, he can see why so many of the humans here are having issues adapting to such different body types. Nia’s lucky that she got a body kind of similar to her old one.

“Tobias?”

Tobias flips the pamphlet shut, looking up to see Nia and Junie watching him.

“You ready to move on?” Nia asks, laughter in her voice.

“Unless you want to stare at how hot we used to be as humans some more?” Junie teases.

Tobias growls at her and shoves the pamphlets into the satchel at his hip. “Trust me, if you used to look like that then this is an improvement.”

Nia looks like she isn’t sure whether to be offended or not, and Junie laughs.

“Takes the sting out of it when you’re literally a talking lizard,” the flying type chirps. “Now c’mon, they said the next stall is about evolution, right? I wanna check that out!”

Nia nods at her and they move on to the next booth. While they wait to get closer, Nia catches Tobias’ eye and grins. “I used to be much taller as a human, y’know.”

Tobias squints at her. The picture didn’t give any hints for the humans’ heights. “…How much taller?”

“Probably as tall as that red Pokemon back there,” Nia says, giggling when Tobias blinks at her, gobsmacked. She was as tall as a scizor!?

“Me too!” Junie chirps, delighting in Tobias’ shock.

“Are all humans giants?!” Tobias demands to know.

Both girls laugh again. Tobias glares at them as his face heats up.

“N-No,” Nia finally answers. “I mean, sort of, but adult humans are mostly all the same size? Like, we don’t have nearly as much diversity in body type and stuff as Pokemon do. I feel like I was probably somewhere around average height.”

The conversation gets derailed as a booming shout comes from the booth they just left.

“I HAVE TROUBLE LOWERING MY VOICE SOMETIMES—”

Everyone in the vicinity flinches, glaring over at the loudred who was cut off by the archen frantically waving his wings.

Nia, who’s holding her ears with a particularly pained expression, whimpers, “Ouch. Maybe I should take it as a blessing that my only real problem is not being able to use moves.”

Junie laughs.

It doesn’t take much longer to reach the front of the evolution booth, where a machamp greets them with a giant grin.

“Welcome to the Evolution Booth, kiddos! Or as I like to call it—” He pauses to flex all four of his arms. “The Gun Show! Any questions for your main man here?”

“W-Well,” Nia squeaks, looking like she wants to join in on the machamp’s enthusiasm but is a little too afraid to do so. “We can’t e-evolve, right? So, uh. Should we have questions? It doesn’t seem like something we should worry about?”

“Correct!” The machamp booms, flexing into a new position. “But it’s always good to be prepared if that changes in the future!”

Nia exchanges a doubtful look with Junie. “I…I guess so.”

“All right then—what’s it like to evolve?” Junie asks, hopping onto Nia’s head again so she doesn’t have to look up so far to meet the machamp’s eyes.

“Evolution is awesome!” The machamp answers, slamming his hands down onto the table. “I was beefy before, but now I can bench so many boulders.”

“I—um. Congrats?” Nia offers.

“You too could bench boulders one day!” The machamp says, pointing at each of them with one of his arms. Tobias pointedly swats the fighting type’s finger away from his face.

“B-But isn’t it hard to get used to one body and then have to get used to an entirely different one all over again?” Nia asks.

Finally, the machamp’s expression shifts to something almost thoughtful. “It can be tricky to get used to…but humans are tough, right? We’re nothing if not adaptable! Soon enough it feels like you’ve been in your new form your whole life. We’re humans—no matter what, we can always change and find a new way to live!”

Nia blinks, as if surprised that the machamp made such a good point. “O-Oh. I…guess that’s true?”

“Wait, so you evolved, right?” Junie asks. “But that had to happen a long time ago, right? Before evolution stopped working?”

“Right again!” The machamp crows. “I showed up in this world as a machoke, then evolved to a machamp a few years later!”

“Did it hurt?”

“No more than a good workout!” The machamp says with a grin and another flex. Tobias wonders if he’d get kicked out if he lit this idiot on fire.

“Huh.” Nia looks like she wants to ask the machamp a few more questions, probably just for curiosity’s sake since they can’t evolve anyways, but catches Tobias’ eye and gritted teeth. “W-Well, I don’t think I have any other questions! Junie?”

“Nope!”

“Thank you!” Nia says, grabbing two pamphlets before hurrying Tobias away from the booth.

“Tell me he’s the exception to the rule and not the norm when it comes to humans,” Tobias growls.

Junie laughs. “Yeah, he was pretty weird. Seemed nice enough, though. Total himbo.”

“…Himbo?” Tobias echoes cautiously.

“I am not explaining the concept of a himbo,” Nia says flatly. Junie laughs.

Before Tobias can press, a little shape darts into their path, nearly tripping him onto his face.

“Hey! Watch it!” He snarls, turning to the idiot who can’t watch where they’re going—

Oh. It’s a kid.

A growlithe pup.

Tobias freezes, snarl dying in his throat. At first glance, the striped orange coat and fluffy white tail calls up a memory of too-hot flames and a giant paw on his chest and sharp eyes—

No. No. This isn’t him, this isn’t then. It’s not even an arcanine.

“Sorry!” The growlithe says, scrambling to his paws and giving Tobias an apologetic grin. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Clearly,” Tobias mutters, backing off and crossing his arms to keep from shaking.

“I’m just so excited I can’t sit still!” The growlithe continues, looking around. “I’ve been waiting for this for forever!”

“How long have you been in the Pokemon world?” Nia asks, voice soft and sad.

To their surprise, the growlithe cackles. “Twelve years!”

Junie squints at the kid. “Wait, how old are you?”

The growlithe’s grin grows. “Twelve!”

There’s a moment of silence, then Junie laughs. “You aren’t human, are you?”

“Nope!” The growlithe barks, puffy tail wagging lazily.

“Why’re you here?” Nia asks, sounding less heartbroken now that she knows a little kid wasn’t dumped into the Pokemon world like her and Junie.

“I’m here with my dad!” the growlithe says. “Oh! Actually, I’m sorta hiding from him right now so he doesn’t make me stay in one spot, so I gotta go. Bye!”

The growlithe turns and bounds back into the crowd without another word, and Tobias stares after him. He’s not trembling, but it’s a near thing. His heart is pounding. He has to get himself together—just because he sees some random growlithe doesn’t mean he can freak out like this. One of the outlaws is an arcanine, sure, but he can’t lose it every time some random arcanine or their kid shows up.

He must be more obvious than he thought, because Nia touches his arm with a quiet, “Tobias? You okay?”

He jumps, yanking his arm away.

“Whoa! What’s your problem?” Junie asks, blinking down at him.

His tongue still feels like a rock in his throat, so he looks away with a wordless snarl.

Tobias can feel Nia’s gaze burning into him, and he hears her sharp inhale when realization dawns. It’s been a while since she saw the outlaw trio’s wanted poster, but she still must’ve made the connection.

“I’m fine,” Tobias finally manages, hating how his voice shakes. “It’s stupid. He wasn’t even an arcanine.”

“Still,” Nia says, voice quiet and sympathetic. “It makes sense to be afraid—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tobias snaps, turning to look around. “Where are we going next?”

“Excuse me.”

They all turn at the voice, only to find a familiar ponyta trotting up to them, his colorful, puffy mane and tail floating along behind him. Oh, great. What was this guy’s name again?

“Hello, you three,” The ponyta greets, a harried smile on his face. “You were speaking with Will yesterday, right? Sorry for not introducing myself then. I’m Fidel—a close friend of his.”

“Nice to meet you,” Nia says, shooting Tobias one more worried glance before smiling at the ponyta. “I’m Nia.”

“Junie!”

Once again, Tobias doesn’t answer, just narrowing his eyes at the ponyta. Like Will, the ponyta accepts his silence with a small dip of his head.

“I’m sorry to keep our introductions so short, but you didn’t happen to see a zorua slip by here, did you? Little thing on four legs? Dark gray fur with red paws?”

“No, but an orange puppy tripped Tobias,” Junie offers, sounding delighted at the memory. Tobias shoots her a glare.

Fidel sighs. “That sounds like him.” Nia and Junie must give Fidel a confused look, because he quickly adds, “The zorua line can transform. Well, they can create illusions at least. He probably changed to a growlithe to try and shake me off his trail.”

“You helping his dad track him down?” Junie asks.

Fidel looks out at the crowd with exhaustion. “Something like that. Did you happen to see which way he went?”

All three of them point in the direction the “growlithe” escaped to, and Fidel thanks them again before rushing off.

“Well, that seems like a fun time,” Junie jokes.

“Can we just move on already?” Tobias grumbles.

“Wait,” Junie objects. “What was with you a minute ago? You got all weird and quiet and—”

Without looking, Tobias uses an arm to sweep the rookidee off of Nia’s head, smirking at her startled squawk as she flaps to catch herself. While the flying type is distracted, Nia glances at Tobias again with a furrow in her brow. Tobias’ smile drops as he shakes his head. No way is he talking about this. Not now, not here.

For a moment Tobias fears she’s going to push. But then the riolu claps her paws together with a cheery, “Right! To the typing booth next?”

After Junie reclaims her perch on Nia’s shoulder with a glare at Tobias, the three of them make their way over to the next booth, where a bronzor hovers beside a weary-looking seviper. Seems like that furious ekans already got to her, if her expression is anything to gauge by.

“That’s a bronzor,” Tobias says quietly, elbowing Nia and pointing at the psychic type.

The riolu perks up at that, following his gaze and weaving her way to the front of the crowd. By the time they make it to the booth, the seviper is pointing at a color-coded diagram to explain type advantages to a couple of gathered Pokemon. The bronzor turns to them as Nia finally frees herself from the crowd, almost collapsing against the booth’s wooden surface.

“H-Hi!” Nia pants. “Hi.”

“Hello,” the bronzor says, blinking at their group. Tobias is growling at a spheal to roll over a bit and give them some room while Junie leans over to peek at the seviper’s typing chart with interest.

“I, um, have a question, if you don’t mind?” Nia stammers. “The Pokemon from the—the first booth told me to ask you, I think. Are you Seiji?”

The bronzor’s eyes light up with interest. “I am. What did you want to discuss?”

“I can’t use moves,” Nia blurts, ears flicking back in embarrassment. “I can use aura, though, s-so he thought you might be able to help since you’re a psychic type? I mean, my mentor is half psychic too but she isn’t human, so…”

“Oh, interesting,” Seiji murmurs. His blue, plate-like body tilts back and forth as he thinks. “I haven’t heard of humans experiencing issues with their movepools before. Could you explain your aura powers to me in more detail?”

Nia does as asked, even holding out her paw to conjure up a small ball of aura. It looks much more solid than it did during their last training session with Val. Nia must’ve been practicing even when Tobias wasn’t around.

“Fascinating,” Seiji says, once Nia is finished demonstrating. “I haven’t done much research into aura—not that there’s much available, to my knowledge—but I wonder if your aptitude for aura could be making it more difficult for you to access your fighting type power.”

Nia perks up. “What do you mean?”

Seiji spins as he hums with thought. “Well, am I correct in guessing that aura doesn’t have a ‘type’ like other Pokemon abilities?”

Nia blinks, then glances at Tobias. He shrugs.

“I—I’m not sure,” she admits, looking back to Seiji. “Wouldn’t it be fighting type?”

“Ah, but aura abilities are specific to only a few species of Pokemon, yes?” Seiji says, sounding excited. “If it were a fighting type ability, more fighting type Pokemon should naturally learn how to wield it.”

Nia’s brow furrows. “I…I guess?”

“More importantly, you said all Pokemon have aura, right?”

Nia mouth drops open. “You’re right! I can read other Pokemon’s aura, even if they’re not a fighting type.”

“Then perhaps your aura and your fighting type powers are entirely separate!” Seiji suggests, sounding thrilled. “Perhaps attacks such as aura sphere are simply a combination of the two? If aura is inherent to every Pokemon, would that make it some sort of life energy? That would explain how it changes to an individual’s personal character—”

“And how does all of this help Nia use her moves?” Tobias drawls.

Seiji pauses.

“Oh. Yes. I suppose while it’s a fascinating subject, the possibility of aura lacking a type doesn’t solve your problem, does it?”

“I still appreciate your theory,” Nia says, offering the bronzor a small smile. “Even if it won’t help me in battle, it’s super interesting to think that my aura powers might be different than normal moves somehow. I’ll have to do some research and ask my mentor about it when we get home!”

Seiji floats up and down in something vaguely resembling a nod. “I may look into it myself as well—the idea is fascinating! As for your fighting type moves…I’m afraid I don’t have any solutions for you at the moment. Your best option would be to find a natural riolu or lucario and ask them for assistance.”

“Have you seen any around?” Nia asks hopefully.

Tobias isn’t surprised when the bronzor gives her a disappointed expression. “Unfortunately, no. Certainly none that used to be human. I don’t know if I’ve even seen a natural riolu or lucario, either. I believe they’re typically more of an isolated species.”

“Oh,” Nia says, voice small as her tail droops. Tobias knew this was coming—remembers Maggie mentioning the same thing—but he can’t really blame her for being disappointed, either. He hasn’t seen another charmander or charizard since moving to Bethoc’s Haven with Maggie, and even without Nia’s conundrum he often finds himself wishing for more fire types around the guild to train with.

“I apologize that I couldn’t be more helpful,” Seiji says. A blue glow envelopes two of the pamphlets on the table and lifts them closer to Nia.

“It’s fine,” Nia says, managing a smile as she takes the pamphlets. “Thank you for trying.”

The three of them step out of the way for other Pokemon to crowd closer, and Nia looks a bit happier when she and Junie glance over the pamphlets. A smaller version of the typing chart Junie had been checking out sits on the page, along with some descriptions and tips for remembering the different matchups.

“Oh! There—what’s it say about flying being good against grass?” Junie asks.

“Birds often eat plants and seeds, and use plant material to make their nests,” Nia recites, making a disgruntled face. “I mean…I guess that kind of makes sense? But don’t a lot of other animals—and other Pokemon, for that matter—also do that?”

Junie twitters a laugh. “So it still doesn’t make sense!”

Nia looks at Tobias, but he just snorts. “Don’t look at me. Flying’s good against grass—it’s just a thing.”

The riolu smiles and shakes her head, folding up the pamphlets and handing them to Tobias to stuff into the satchel alongside all the others.

“Where next?” Nia asks, looking around the crowd.

“Oh! Let’s get some grub!” Junie chirps, hopping back onto Nia’s head. She points with a wing. “I think I see food stalls over that way!”

“I am hungry,” Nia admits. She glances at Tobias, and he shrugs. He got up early and ate something this morning, but he could still snack. Whatever they’ve made definitely smells good.

“All right, then. Lead the way, Junie!” Nia says.

The rookidee does so with little incident, guiding them through the crowd and to where a couple of stalls are giving out food for free. It smells delicious, but Tobias frowns as he realizes he doesn’t recognize any of the meals listed on the booths’ menus. Nia and Junie make little noises of excitement, though, apparently more familiar with the names. Human dishes, then?

“What in Arceus’ name is a…hot dog?” Tobias grumbles, only half-asking.

Nia and Junie gasp as if he’d just confessed to some scandalous sin, and Tobias gives them both a glare.

“Oh, we’re getting you a hot dog for sure,” Junie says with a decisive nod.

“It can’t be made of the same things though, right?” Nia asks, suddenly sounding a little unsure. “I mean…hot dogs are already, uh—”

“Unhealthy monstrosities?” Junie offers.

“Y-Yeah. But how would they even make them here?” Nia looks a little queasy as she glances over to where a tauros and a pignite are happily picking out some sandwiches.

“You two are not selling this well,” Tobias grunts.

“It’s probably a veggie dog or something!” Junie says, sounding much more confident than Nia looks. “Look, how about we ask when we go up to order? I wanna try one now!”

Tobias is more than a little wary after that discussion, but when they reach the front of the line, the breloom behind the counter pales at their question before assuring them that they are indeed “veggie dogs.” Tobias stays skeptical as the three of them move to a dining area in another room and sit at one of the tables there. The food in his hands is unfamiliar: a cylindrical, pink chunk of…something, wrapped up in a piece of bread with a smattering of condiments on top. It smells good, though.

Nia and Junie bite into their food, chewing thoughtfully. Then Junie tweets a wordless, happy sound and digs in wholeheartedly. Nia smiles as she chews, looking a little misty-eyed and distant like she does when she’s trying to remember something. Well, they aren’t spitting it out, so…

Tobias takes a hesitant bite of the food, pleasantly surprised by the flavor that washes over his tongue. Savory and warm, with a variety of complimentary tastes thanks to the toppings. The bread seemed like a strange addition, but it adds a nice texture to everything.

“You like it?” Nia asks, looking hopeful.

Tobias hums an affirmative and takes another bite, relaxing. Okay, it’s pretty good.

Nia looks thrilled at his response, and the three of them dig into their meals in near-silence, the only noise coming from the Pokemon around them talking and eating their own food in a low murmur of sound. Tobias takes the opportunity to listen in on a conversation to the left of them, where a sinistea is rambling in a serious tone to a staravia.

“Okay, so I think I’ve connected the dots.”

“You haven’t connected anything,” The flying type says with an amused expression.

“I’ve connected them,” the sinistea insists. “Hear me out. I think we’re in a video game.”

The staravia barks a laugh, and the sinistea makes an offended noise before continuing, louder, “Think about it! We’re magical creatures with magical powers—I’m a teacup, for God’s sake. Wouldn’t it be weirder to not be in a video game!?”

Tobias doesn’t know what a video game is and the sinistea sounds a little crazed, so he quickly tunes out that conversation and instead looks around the room they’re in. Like the previous rooms, this one has a high ceiling with surprisingly intricate architecture made of stone and wood, elegant support columns interspersed throughout the space. He wonders how big this building really is—they’ve only been in three of the rooms so far, but there’s definitely more, if the exterior is anything to judge by. Are there more areas to see for this convention, or has it all been cordoned off? They aren’t even done going through all of the booths in the main area yet. The next one for them to hit apparently talks about the similarities between Pokemon and “animals”, which Nia is excited about. She claims they’ll be able to explain the concept of animals to him much better than she did.

Tobias is almost done with his hot dog when he pauses, a memory coming back to him. “Hey, these are called…hot dogs, right?”

Nia, already done wolfing down her food, nods, looking curious.

“Didn’t you call yourself a ‘dog’ at one point?” Tobias asks, squinting at the remains of his meal with renewed suspicion.

Nia barks a startled laugh. Junie almost chokes on her food.

One slightly unnerving conversation later—

(“Humans eat animals!?”

“Most humans do, but it’s not the same! I told you animals are different from people or Pokemon, a-and--Oh my God, Tobias, please stop looking at me like I’m a cannibal.”)

--they return to the main hall. The animal informational booth only confuses Tobias further. Only Nia, Junie, and both Pokemon running the stall assuring him that they would never eat a Pokemon keeps him from feeling a lot more uneasy about it.

Other than that debacle, they visit other stands that discuss a range of topics made to help humans settle into the Pokemon world easier. They’re set up to discuss what abilities are, how to navigate the slowly increasing number of natural disasters, guesses at how humans physically became Pokemon, guesses at how to return to the human world, guesses at how the humans are or aren’t affecting the Pokemon world…

“For being this big important informational thing, it feels like no one here actually knows what’s going on,” Tobias comments eventually.

Nia gives him a pouty look, but doesn’t argue.

Junie shifts uncomfortably on Nia’s shoulder. “Yeah…I mean, don’t get me wrong, I definitely appreciate all the information and even just meeting other humans is awesome! But the way Will talked yesterday, I thought they had everything all figured out already.”

“Maybe they’re getting close but don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up yet?” Nia suggests, sounding just a little desperate. “O-Or maybe Will knows some things that these guys don’t. I mean, most of them seem like they’re just human volunteers, right? We haven’t heard from Will yet.”

“And that isn’t strange at all,” Tobias grumbles.

This time, Nia does give him a heated look. “Why do you hate him so much when you’ve only had one conversation?”

“Call it intuition,” Tobias huffs. “Why do you like him so much after one conversation?”

Nia hesitates. “I…I guess he just feels really genuine, y’know? Like, he’s been through the same thing I have and he’s working hard to find a way back home for everyone. So he just…makes me feel a lot more hopeful that someone will actually figure it out, I guess.”

Tobias makes a doubtful noise but doesn’t argue as they make it to the next booth. Their group is almost finished with their circuit around the room and back at the entrance when a loud voice calls from somewhere above them.

“Attention, everyone!”

It’s a noibat, flapping hard to stay floating in place as he addresses the quieting room.

“Will, the person behind today’s event, would like to give an address to everyone! If you could all follow this hall—” Here, the noibat flaps towards the back of the room and gestures down a large hall that was previously blocked off. “—to the auditorium area, he’ll speak to you there and answer any questions you might have for him! The booths won’t be shutting down immediately, so you’ll be free to return to them afterwards.”

The noibat flutters down the aforementioned hall, and the room explodes into a slowly-rising murmur of voices.

Nia, of course, is bouncing on her toes, scooping Junie into her arms and making an excited noise. “Told you! Will must have been waiting to tell us the important stuff himself.”

“Sure,” Tobias snorts. “Whatever. You’re going to make us listen to his dumb speech, aren’t you?”

“Sure am!” Nia chirps. Shifting Junie to one arm, she links the other with Tobias’ and drags him along with the crowd towards the hallway. Tobias growls at her, but otherwise doesn’t put up much of a fight. Maybe if he can hear Will talk some more he’ll be able to pinpoint what it is about the yamask that he doesn’t like.

The crowd is even louder than it has been the entire day, but once they enter the auditorium the noibat mentioned, it becomes more pronounced in the huge, open space. The room itself is semi-circular with rows of seating, built like a cone for sound to travel from the stage out to the audience. The walls seem to be insulated from outside noise, reinforced with stone and plantlife that covers the edges of the room in a bed of soft green. Despite his reluctance to be here, Tobias has to admit the room is impressive, and he stops his meager struggling to instead gaze around at the elegant rafters and the carvings in the exposed stone. Light pours down from a giant lattice of woodwork in the ceiling, like a much larger version of the windows at the Lexym guild, lighting the stage up bright but leaving everything else in shadow.

Nia guides them to a seat relatively close to the stage, squeezing them in between a psyduck and a granbull. Tobias sighs and settles in as Nia looks around excitedly, Junie seated in her lap and eyeing the riolu with amusement.

For a few minutes, there’s nothing but the crowd of Pokemon slowly shuffling into the room and sitting down, a babble of noise as everyone tries to talk over one another. Then, there’s a familiar ponyta clicking onto the stage and looking out at the crowd.

As the talking slowly dies down, Junie whispers, “I wonder if Fidel ever found that growlithe kid?”

Tobias shrugs, not really wanting to think too hard about it.

Once the room is almost silent, Fidel smiles and calls out in a voice that projects loud and clear, “Welcome, everyone! We’re so happy to have you all here today. I hope you’ve enjoyed speaking with each other so far and found our informational booths helpful. I know you still have a lot of big questions you want answered, so without further ado, I leave you to Will.”

Fidel takes a few steps back, out of the sun’s spotlight. A beat of silence. Then there’s Will, melting out of the shadows and into the sun. His form stands out like a blot of ink against parchment, golden mask gleaming in the light and ruby eyes warm and bright as he smiles.

Immediately, the crowd of Pokemon—of humans, Tobias suddenly remembers—starts cheering and clapping and whistling for the yamask, making the charmander startle. He looks around, noting only a small scattering of Pokemon who seem as confused as he is. Is this just a…human thing, then? Nia is clapping with a huge smile on her face, and Junie is tweeting a sharp, positive note. Will doesn’t look at all perturbed by the wave of noise, and lets it go on with a patient smile for a few moments longer before raising a hand for quiet. The noise slowly dies down again.

The yamask floats forward, a gleam in his eyes and arms spread wide. “Welcome, everyone! To the first meeting of The Humans Movement!”

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #yamask #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

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matsbarzal · 3 years

Text

Time’s a Ticking || Matthew Tkachuk

Notes: anyways I decided to do matty and I found this long list of soulmate AU prompts so I know what I’m doing tonight yikes. so here’s a lil bit of a nervous/anxious matty even tho he refuses to admit it. hope you enjoy!!! let me know how you like it <3

Summary: everyone is born with a dwindling time on their wrist. the moment the time reaches zero is when a person meets their other half, the person who makes them whole; their soulmate.

Word Count: 3k+

10,584. 7 days, 8 hours and 24 minutes. 7 days until he’d meet his other half, the person that’s meant to complete his soul, be his better half, or whatever a soulmate is meant to be. Matthew wasn’t crazy about the idea of soulmates, sure, he was surrounded by people who were madly in love and happy and complete; but he was also surrounded by those people... the one’s whose time stopped, girls and guys who had a permanent marking of time on their wrist that would never move again.

He wouldn’t say he was a pessimistic person, but he had seen so many friends and family fall into a spiral after their soulmate clock stopped ticking, watched as their other half broke them without even meeting them. He wanted to be excited and optimistic but Matthew couldn’t bring himself to feel the same delight that his friends did on his behalf. Anything could happen in this 7 days, 8 hours... and 22 minutes now.

6160 minutes

You could feel the bump of the plane as it touched the ground. This was the one part of flying you hated the most, the anxiety and the bumping as the plane made its way down the runway towards its destination. You knew anything bad was unlikely to happen, but your nerves were on edge. All you could think about was the time on your wrist, the time that kept on ticking. It hadn’t stopped in your entire 21 years of life, and from the looks of it, you were approximately four days away from that happening.

Sighing, you listened to the claps from around you as everyone congratulated the pilots for landing the plane safely. Around you, people stood up and began collecting their belongings, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartments as the chatter continued in the cabin.

You politely smiled at the man beside you as he passed you down your bag, a quick “Thank you” leaving your lips as he gestured for you to walk in front of him towards the exit.

Originally, you hadn’t had any intention of leaving Alberta for the holiday break, but your parents had practically begged you to come home for the holiday’s, citing the fact you had remained in Lake Louise for the last year and that they had only seen you once since you made the choice to unravel everything you knew by packing a few bags and moving halfway across the country to Alberta to work at some fancy ski resort in the mountains.

It was originally only meant to be a few months worth of work, waitressing in Lake Louise at a 5-star resort that is, and then time kept going by, and the more and more you fell in love with not only the scenery, but the people. Everyone was happy there, tourists were always excited and polite, everyone just wanted the chance to see the Lake, skate on the Lake, whatever it was. No one was ever unhappy here, and you loved that.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as the line in front of you continued to move quickly, people eager to get out of the cabin and get back into the fresh air that flowed outside. You could barely contain your giddiness as you stepped off the plane. You could barely believe how much you missed the province, missed your friends, coworkers, you even missed the tourists. Who would’ve thought?

After about 20 minutes of watching the carousal spin and spin and spin, you finally eyed your bright red, Flames red, as a lot of people reminded you, suitcase. Grabbing it, you hauled the bag off of the carousal and onto the ground. You were eager to get to your car, which you had already paid a good 500 dollars worth of parking for, and eager to get the move on the three hour drive across Highway 1 to Lake Louise.

After four and a half hours of travelling, you knew this three hour drive was going to exhaust you. And with the temperature out in Alberta right now? All you wanted was your bed and a cup of piping warm hot chocolate to end the day.

4590 minutes

“Man, your face is already awful to look at. You really trying to ruin it even more right before you meet your soulmate?”

Before Noah could even think, a wad of tape hit the side of his head while exclamations went up around the room about the choice of target. “Whoops, guess my tape slipped... out of my hand.”

Matthew shrugged his shoulders, an innocent grin on his face as he stood up to grab the tape from beside Noah Hanifin’s locker.

“No, but seriously, why are you getting into fights with three days left on your wrist? Don’t go and get yourself killed or something, they’d be devastated if they’ve waited this long for your dumb-ass just to have 4000 minutes tattooed on her wrist for the rest of her life.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Matthew ignored his teammates comments, choosing instead to run his finger across the always-changing number on his wrist.

“It’s not like it matters anyways.” His words were barely above a mumble, but it was enough to spark the attention of his captain, who was quick to tell him to meet him in the trainer’s office after he was done showering and getting the blood that was currently dripping down his face, cleaned.

Obliging on his captain’s orders, he found Gio in the office, a tight smile the only warning that he was about to get ripped apart by the veteran. Gio was one of the lucky ones, he had barely been 16 when his clock finally hit the big 0. It made him an advocate for all the soulmate bullshit, constantly encouraging his teammates to wait it out, be patient, their time would come.

“Chucky, buddy, we gotta have a chat.”

Quirking his eyebrows at the older man, Matthew nodded, “Well Gio, I kinda figured that one out buddy, unless you pulled me in here to look at my oh so pretty face.”

“I’m serious. You need to stop with this constant bashing of soulmates and times and shit. I know you don’t like it and you hate the concept of soulmates and whatever, but you’re doing nothing but worrying the younger guys. These kids are constantly terrified their minutes are just going to stop and be etched into their skin.”

Subconsciously running his fingers across the number on his wrist again, 4530 minutes. Wonder what that is in exact time. Shrugging his shoulders, he was quick to apologize to his captain. “Sorry, G. Not trying to scare the kids, just getting a little... I don’t know? Worried? It’s getting too close, I don’t want to get like... it’s not important, never mind. I’ll stop talking about times in the locker room. Sorry.”

Quickly tightening the tie that was now wrapped around his neck, Matthew raced out of the office before Gio could say something else to him. He eagerly grabbed his phone, wallet, keys and suit jacket before quickly making his way towards the parking garage, the only thing on his mind was of course, you.

2120 minutes

One whole day and just a few hours. You could barely breath as you ran your thumb over the little black number on your wrist. You knew it was inevitable that you’d be meeting your soulmate while working, the moment you looked at the work schedule when you arrived back from home, you knew you’d be stuck working during the time in which you were meant to meet you soulmate. You were giddy, sure. But what if they didn’t like you? What if whoever it was, was snooty, and rude, and didn’t like you for who you were?

“Y/N, you gotta stop thinking about it, babe. You’re gonna get your head stuck in a whirlwind of thoughts. Think about other things! Like... the Calgary Flames.”

Eyeing the blonde beside you, “Tell me Cassidy, why in the world, would I think about the Calgary Flames, instead of thinking about my soulmate?”

Your coworker shrugged her shoulders and gestured to the board behind your head. You had all been notified a day prior that the Calgary Flames had reserved a whole floor of the Chateau for the weekend. With your restaurant being directly in view of the Lake and the Mountains, you were expected to be the main dining spot for the team over their course of the weekend.

“Believe me, Cass, the last thing I want to think about is a bunch of hockey boys who are going to make me miserable the weekend where I’m supposed to be... not miserable.”

She winked at you, a teasing glint in her eyes, “Maybe one of those awful hockey boys has the same number on your wrist. Maybe Noah Hanifin’s your soulmate. God, I’d be so jealous, could you imagine being destined for that beautiful exhibit of a man? God, I’d climb him like a tree.”

Laughing, you wacked her with the towel in your hand as she continued to egg you on, gloating about how beautiful of a specimen Noah Hanifin was, and how she’d do just anything to crawl into bed with that man. Cassidy was always like this, bubbly, happy, positive. Her number had stopped moving 12 years ago, or so she says. She hadn’t been paying attention the day it stopped, the number etching itself into her skin permanently, to never move again. She was never negative about it, always saying that she hoped just the thought of her brought peace to her soulmate in their last moments.

“Okay okay, enough about the Flames. I doubt it’s even going to end up being any of them, hockey boys and I do not get along. Especially the one’s that are just constantly bothering people, and that’s the entire Flames roster, so... let’s get back to work.”

440 minutes

One thing Matthew was sure of was the fact that he loved everything about the drive to Lake Louise. He wasn’t notorious for being a huge fan of the scenery around him, but something about the drive across Highway 1, the trees, the snow covered mountains, they all just faded together and created this picture in his head. It was hard to describe, there wasn’t anything specific to the picture, it was just joyful, it was happy, it was calm. Jesus, maybe he was just fucking crazy.

A lot of people always said you feel more calm in the hours leading up to the first time you meet your soulmate. But he sure as hell didn’t feel calm. He was on edge, the scenery around him, albeit, it was beautiful, it was not calming him down. His leg was shaking, his foot tapping the ground beneath him on the bus. He could see Johnny giving him a look every time his shaking leg touched his teammates. He knew the entire team was frustrated with him. Two games straight, two 10 minute fighting majors.

He was being a pest, constantly egging people on, trying to ignite arguments or fights or just some form of stimuli to get his mind off of the only thing it could stray to. You. He didn’t want to think about whoever the hell you were, he didn’t want to get his hopes up that maybe his clock would actually hit 0, maybe he’d actually meet his better half. Or maybe he'd fall through a crack in Lake Louise and never have to worry about it again... hopefully.

“If you touch my leg... one more fucking time, I am going to sock you in the fucking face Chucky.”

Immediately pressing his heel into the ground, Matthew mumbled out a quick ‘sorry’ to the teammate beside him as he watched the trees continue to go by outside the bus window. The time was still changing on his wrist, every minute counting down as the minutes passed outside. There was barely any cell service on the drive up, so the only thing that could truly distract him at this rate, was you, and he hated that.

“Soooo... you excited Chucky? It’s gotta be the big day, no?”

If choking a teammate was legal, Matthew would already be wringing Noah Hanifin’s neck.

“Yeah, delighted.”

“C’mon grumpy pants, you’re literally like what? 6 hours away from meeting the person who’s supposed to complete your soul... and you’re in a foul mood. Did Doughty crawl up your ass and die last night or?”

Grinding his teeth, Matthew tried to bite his tongue, refusing to lash out at his teammate, even though he so desperately wanted to. He wasn’t going to be the cause for a toxic locker room, especially over something as stupid as soulmates.

It was obvious that something was going on, everyone on the team knew the time on his wrist equalled out to less than a day. Everyone could see how on edge he was slowly getting as the time dwindled down, but no one could figure out why he was getting more and more frustrated, why the excitement wasn’t shining through as the time continued.

“Why the hell aren’t you excited man? This person’s supposed to be the love of your life, and you seem like you couldn’t give two fucks if you meet them or not?”

It was too late, Matthew was exploding before he could even comprehend what he was saying. “It doesn’t fucking matter man, okay? I don’t give a shit about this soulmate bullshit. Everyone’s soulmate is gone one day anyways, what the hell does it matter if you meet them now? I’m gonna be aching at some point because they’re gone and I’m alone. Woohoo, I get to meet them today, woo-fucking-hoo. I could literally not care less, so stop bugging me.”

27 minutes.

It was all around, highly likely, that your soulmate had some form of connection with the Calgary Flames. Their reservation was scheduled for 23 minutes from now... and your wrist had that small number 27 etched on it as it continued to count down.

“Wow... maybe your soulmate really is Noah Hanifin... I’m sorry for saying I’d climb him like a tree.”

A loud laugh left your throat as you watched a guilty smile form on your co-workers face. “Cass, I highly doubt it’s Noah Hanifin. It’s probably just a coincidence that their reservation time coincides with my meeting my soulmate time.” Cassidy gave you a knowing look as she walked away, a small smile on her face.

You were anxious, you couldn’t deny it. Every second that counted down, you were nervous, what if you weren’t good enough for them? What if they were embarrassed it was you? What if... oh god... what if they hated soulmates? What if they were one of those people who was willing to cut the tie, ignore the call, ignore the connection?

You refused to think about that, instead putting yourself to work, clearing the tables and plates of the previous occupants, you waved off the clearing crew, instead choosing to do it yourself. Anything to get your mind off of it.

The Flames weren't the only occupants of the Chateau tonight, only taking up about half, you were able to still seat other tourists who were interested in the view tonight.

That’s how you found yourself, 25 minutes later, your hand on your hip as you interacted with the group of rowdy guys in front of you. They were from Edmonton, and they were absolutely hammered. They were as nice as you could expect them to be, continuously flirting your ears off, as they tried to impress you with their... what was it? Accounting job? You couldn’t remember for the life of you, your mind solely stuck on the small number 1 now etched on your wrist.

You were roused out of your thoughts at the feeling of a hand touching your waist. “C’mon sweetheart, you’re not even paying attention to us here. Take a shot with us, baby!”

You politely removed the offending wrist, a tight smile now etched on your face. “First, I would ask that you please don’t touch me. Second, I was most definitely listening. You boys want another round of beers, and 6 tequila shots. Unfortunately, I don’t believe the shots are the best idea, nor do I think the beer is, but I’ll definitely get you a glass of water.”

Spinning on your heel, you went to walk away but were stopped by the feeling of a hand tightly gripping your wrist, a small squeak falling from your lips.

“We don’t want water.”

“Please get your hand off of me.”

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.”

You were about to retort, a vicious snarl on your lips, but your words were caught in your throat as you watched a fist connect to the cheek of the man in front of you, a gasp leaving your throat.

2 minutes

This had to be a joke. He was apparently two minutes away from meeting his soulmate, and here he was, in an orderly fashioned line as him and his teammates made their way into the restaurant. He could barely breath, his pants felt too tight on his hips, he could feel the sweat seeping through his shirt. Thank god he made the choice to wear black.

It felt like everyone’s eyes were on his, everyone was wearily watching the number on his wrist go down, as the obvious anxieties began to cloud his every thought, action, move... everything.

He tried to take his mind off of it, observing the restaurant as the team slowly made their way to their designated tables. There were a few other patrons, most of them caught up in their own world. One specific table caught his eye, they were a group of rowdy guys, maybe a few years older than him.

Quite frankly, they looked like all around assholes. Looked like the guys you’d see from Wolf of Wall Street, and from the looks of it, they were really starting to irritate their waitress. Although, all he could see was your back, your posture was unbelievably straight, your hand on your hip as you inventively listened to the guys in front of you.

Matthew continued to watch you, something inside of him telling him that he just couldn’t look away. He had to keep looking. He watched as you turned your body, ready to walk to wherever your destination in mind was, but he instantly zeroed in on the hand that was now tightly wrapped around your wrist, a violent look on the man’s face.

He wasn’t moving on his own accord now, his feet were basically moving by themselves as they raced towards you.

“Get us what I asked for then, bitch.”

His fist was connecting with the other man’s face before he could even think. He heard the gasp from beside him, he watched the number on his wrist hit 0 the exact moment he looked at you, a look of shock on everyone’s faces.

“Chucky!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m going to call the police you fucking curly-headed fuck.”

He could barely focus on the voices around him. You were here. You were literally right in front of him. Both of your numbers were at 0, he could see it on your wrist. He was literally staring in the eyes of his soulmate.

“Oh my god, you punched one of our guests.” Your voice was like bells to his ear, soft, delicate, everything he wasn’t... but god, you were perfect.

“I’m Matthew, and yes... I uh... I think I did punch one of your guests. I also think you’re my soulmate. Does it count as self-defence... if I punched him in my soulmate’s defence?”

You laughed, trying to cover it up with your mouth as you watched your manager’s rush towards the now bleeding asshole at the table behind you.

“I think I like you already, Matthew.”

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk fic #NHL fic #NHL imagine #Matthew Tkachuk imagines #my fic #my writing #honest to god I wrote this in like an hour and a half #I dont even know if its good #it just feels so perfect to me #pls tell me if you like it

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deancaskiss · 3 years

Text

Chapter Twenty-Two (Tinsel & Tourists)

Word Count: 2,200 (another long chapter ahead (sorry for it being long) - chapter continued under the Read More)

Cas’ POV

Link to ao3 / Link to masterpost

Cas chewed on his lip for a second as he contemplated Dean’s question. What did he want to know? Everything. He wanted to know everything about Dean. But he had time to learn, didn’t he?

Just as he opened his mouth to ask something, Dean spoke up first. “Before- um, before you ask what you want to know, can I just say something?”

Something about Dean’s tone was hesitant, almost soft, and it tugged at Cas’ heart strings. He nodded slowly, not trusting his voice.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry, Cas. I really am. I didn’t want to lie to you. Or to hurt you. Or to see you get hurt. I hope you know that,” Dean said, free hand reaching up to caress Cas’ cheek. “I just wanted to keep you safe. But then I fell for you, hard and fast. I almost told you the whole ‘monsters are real’ speech several times. I just thought…” Dean said, suddenly trailing off.

“Thought what?” Cas asked, squeezing Dean’s hand that was still interlocked with his own.

“That if you knew the truth, knew what I did and who I was…” Dean said, shrugging before finally finding the words, “That you’d decide you didn’t love me the way I loved you.”

Cas felt his stomach lurch, and he quickly moved to bring their joined hands up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Dean’s hand. “Not possible,” he whispered.

And it really wasn’t possible. Even last night, after Cas thought Dean had broken his heart, he still ached for him. In fact, his first words to Libby had been, ‘I told him to leave and not to come back, and I don’t want that, Lib. Why did I say that? I still want him. I-I love him. Oh God. What have I done?’

Dean smiled weakly, thumb brushing along Cas’ jawline softly before he cleared his throat and nodded. “I’m sorry. That’s just… that’s all I wanted you to know. That I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Cas had been so hurt last night, so betrayed. But now, he could see it on Dean’s face; that Dean truly meant every word of his apology. And Cas’ heart believed him. “I forgive you, Dean. I’m not mad at you. Do you understand?”

Dean hesitated for a second, before he nodded. “I- thank you,” Dean said quietly. “Alright, um, what did you want to know?”

“How long have you been hunting?” Cas asked, squeezing Dean’s hand again just to ground himself, and maybe to ground Dean, too.

“My whole life. Dad was a hunter. He raised us to be hunters after my mom was killed when I was four and Sammy was six months old. Something killed her, a demon, and my Dad spent the last twenty years hunting the thing down.”

“What’s- what’s out there?” Cas asked hesitantly. Did he really want to know? Was he better not knowing? Or was knowing the truth the best option?

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Better question is what isn’t out there. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, ghouls, skinwalkers, Gods, demons, angels-”

“Angels? Angels are real?”

“Mmhmm,” Dean hummed. “That’s the only reason I’m here right now.”

Cas cocked his head, looking at Dean carefully. “What do you mean?”

“You asked last night about me going to Hell…” Dean trailed off.

“How did you- why were you in Hell? Wait, at the tree lighting, you said you almost died. That was a lie, wasn’t it? You actually did die?” Cas asked in shock.

Dean swallowed thickly before nodding. “Yeah, I did. The demon that killed my mom… he essentially had Sam killed a couple years ago,” Dean said, voice low in the air between them. “And it was my job to protect Sam. I was supposed to take care of him. And I wasn’t quick enough to save him,” Dean paused, taking a deep breath. “So I made a deal with a crossroads demon. I sold my soul to bring Sam back to life. But it came at a price. I got a year to live, and then I was killed by hellhounds and sent to Hell,” Dean explained.

“That- that sounds horrific. Why would you-”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “I couldn’t live without Sam. I didn’t want to be alone. I uh- I actually felt the same way last night, when I heard you get attacked and taken. I told Sam that if I lost you… if I lost you, I’d sell my soul to any demon if it meant bringing you back.”

A choked off noise slipped from Cas’ mouth, and he lurched forwards, claiming Dean’s mouth in a chaste kiss. “Dean,” Cas whispered, at a complete loss for words. Dean would have sold his soul for him? Oh God. How could he have ever accused Dean of not loving him? Of faking it? How had he been so blind? It was so obvious Dean loved him as much as he loved Dean.

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand again, trying to offer him some comfort as he leaned their foreheads together for a brief second before he pulled away. “You don’t- you don’t have to talk about it. About any of it,” Cas said quietly when he saw the pain etched into Dean’s face.

“No, I do. You wanted the truth. I owe it to you. I- uh, I went to Hell. Time works differently down there. It was only four months Earth time, but down there, it was forty years. For thirty years, I was tortured, beaten, ripped into, and killed over and over again, until I… until I-” Dean tried to say.

“Shush, Dean it’s okay, it’s okay,” Cas said, leaning forwards and pecking Dean on the lips. “You don’t have to tell me,” he whispered. “Whatever happened, it isn’t changing how I feel about you,” Cas murmured, softly rubbing his nose against Dean’s.

Dean nodded, sucking in a deep breath and shifting his free hand to the back of Cas’ head, where he tangled his fingers into Cas’ hair. “The um- an angel came and pulled me out of Hell. Zachariah. Something about me being needed. That I’m important to their plans. Either way, angels aren’t what you think they are. Just spineless, dickless assholes.”

Cas snorted, somehow finding it funny that Dean was so pessimistic about angels when he was saved by one. “But they saved you. That counts for something, right?”

Dean huffed out a breath. “Until recently, I didn’t feel like it counted for anything. I felt like I didn’t deserve to be saved. But then… then I met you. You’re the first- the only- good thing to happen to me,” Dean whispered.

Cas shifted to rub his nose along Dean’s cheek, pressing his lips to his cheekbone. “The feeling’s mutual.”

They lapsed into silence for a second before Dean spoke up. “What else? Do you want to know, I mean?”

“Everything, Dean. I want to know it all. I just want to know you,” Cas murmured, smiling when Dean let out a chuckle. “That’s a lot, though. And it can wait for another day. There’s um, there’s something I should tell you actually. It seems only fair.”

Humming, Dean squeezed Cas’ hand this time, sending a little shock wave down Cas’ spine.

“I uh- I told you I went to culinary school in Montpelier a while ago. When I was there, I was engaged to a man I met during my first year classes. His name was Travis. I thought- naively thought- that he was the one. Gabriel repeatedly told me he was wrong for me when he came to visit- that he was the worst kind of person- but I refused to listen. I was completely mesmerized by Travis. He was dashing and witty, and way too good for me. Everyone knew him, and I thought I was lucky to have his attention. That the fact he chose me… someone as bright as him choosing someone like me. I thought it was some kind of miracle he chose me when he could have anyone,” Cas winced.

“I worshipped him. Made excuses for him, too. When he was late, or when he blew me off to be somewhere else. He’d miss huge events I was cooking for or bail when I needed him to taste test before being approached by my teachers and mentors. He ditched me on dates and then didn’t show up to our apartment for days at a time. I had so much blind faith in him. Turned out I was too good for him, not the other way around. I found out he was cheating. Not just with one person, either. With ten other men,” Cas said, and the sting burned up his throat again at the memory; of discovering Travis’ reputation and realizing he meant nothing to Travis.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Cas laughed, a broken and warped sound. “You wanna know the sick part? I wasn’t the only one he proposed to. There were three of us who were “engaged” to him. I thought he loved me, and he used the same ‘restaurant proposal’ shit on the other two guys as well.”

Dean growled low in his throat, ripping himself away and balling his hands into fists. “What the actual fuck? What kind of fucked up person does that?” Dean seethed, before realizing himself and suddenly leaning back into Cas’ space, pressing their foreheads together again softly; a stark contrast to the sudden outburst of anger.

“Cas. You’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking. You deserve so much more than that. God. You deserve the world, Cas. You’re so… you’re absolutely...” Dean trailed off.

Cas felt his heart leap into his throat, and he nuzzled Dean’s face. “I’m what?” he asked breathlessly.

“You’re-” Dean started to say, but he was cut off as Gabriel’s voice rang out through the air.

“Hey lovebirds, can you quit sticking your tongues down each other’s throats long enough for Cas to get back to work? Customers are stacking up in here and unless you want me to start cooking for all these lovely people?” Gabriel shouted.

“Oh God,” Cas said with a wince. “He burns everything he touches,” he muttered to Dean. “Don’t you dare touch anything, Gabe. I’ll be right there. One minute.”

“Sixty seconds, brother dear. Tick tock, tick tock,” Gabriel called out.

“God, I hate him,” Cas said, rolling his eyes before flickering his gaze back to Dean. “Are you- are you really leaving town?” Even the idea of Dean leaving made Cas feel sick to his stomach, and he defensively gripped Dean’s jacket tighter, as if he could keep him anchored right here with him.

A little smirk slipped across Dean’s lips, and Cas felt his heart kick up against his rib cage. “Was thinking of sticking around through Christmas and asking this insanely gorgeous man to be my date for Christmas. Mostly because this devastatingly handsome man stole my heart, and I wouldn’t mind taking him out and kissing him silly under more mistletoe.”

“Mmm, I might be a little jealous of this mystery man. Although, after last night, I don’t think I ever want to see mistletoe again,” Cas said, images of the druid flashing through his mind.

Dean hummed in agreement. “I wonder if this man will let me kiss him silly without the pretext of mistletoe?” Dean asked with a grin.

“I think he just might,” Cas murmured, leaning forward and ghosting his lips against Dean’s.

“Time’s up, Cas! I’m heading into the kitchen,” Gabriel yelled.

Cas jumped up, giving Dean an apologetic look. “Dumbass actually will walk back into the kitchen. Um- I’ll um-”

“When are you off, handsome?” Dean asked smoothly, standing up and catching Cas’ hand again.

“My shift ends at 6,” Cas said, chewing on his lower lip and squeezing Dean’s fingers.

“Then I’ll be here at 6 to pick you up. Don’t be late,” Dean said, leaning down and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of Cas’ lips.

Just as Cas tilted his head to properly capture Dean’s mouth, the diner door swung open again and Kelsey stuck her head out. “Hey, Cas. I hate to interrupt, but your brother’s hurling pans around in the kitchen again.”

“That’s my cue,” Cas mumbled against Dean’s mouth.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Dean hummed, hand dipping down to graze over Cas’ ass in a teasing touch.

“It’s a date,” Cas replied as his cheeks flushed red, nudging his nose against Dean’s before stepping out of Dean’s embrace.

Cas slipped inside the diner, heart racing in his chest. He’d just made it to the kitchen door when he turned back around. Dean was still standing there, messy hair and cheeks flushed red. When he caught Cas’ gaze, Dean winked playfully and blew him a kiss.

Cas blushed, throwing a wink back at Dean before he made his way into the kitchen. He spent the rest of his shift thinking about the little kiss Dean blew at him and how the man he’d fallen hopelessly in love with had told him he loves him, too.

Tag List Part 1 Below- (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list!)

Tag List: @cas-deserved-so-much-more @hello-x-sunshine @bibelphegor @likepurplemuses @expectingtofly @neo-neo-neo @shadowywerewolfqueen @a-sweet-indisposition @feraladoration @xojo

@oganizediguana @paintdriesfaster @adsp-destielcockles @destielangst @im-your-huckle-berry @justa-crayon @dea-stiel @superduckbatrebel @destielfactory @miluiel-erynion

@y-yo-a-ti-cas67 @cockleslovesdestiel @toxic-nebula @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @enchantinghairdoherringwombat @proudace @galaxymysteryelephant @aelysianmuse @ramennoodles-dean-cas @you-changedmedean

@gmos-winter-wonderland @deansotherotherblog @trekkie24 @geo-val @dizzypinwheel @hermionevaldez9 @gimmeprozac @iamsherlockedondoctorwho @dickspeightjrs @imbiowaresbitch

@destielle @hopefuldreamers-world @organicpurplepants @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you @shut-up-dean @sapphirecobalt-1 @eshaninjer @spnobsessed50 @mishka @holygoddessofvictory

@jayus-fandom-writer @2musiclover2 @rainbowscas @bennedict @cassiecasyl @jensenacklesruinedmylife @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @chaoticdean @destiel-trash-asf @tlakhtwritesdestiel

@bri-winchester @50shadesofcockles @trasherasswood @spittingpagan @castielstolemyheart @becky-srs @phoenix13 @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets @deancasology @top13zepptraxx

@love-neve-dies @good-things-do-happen-dean @tearsofgrace @thedirtytrenchcoat @a-porno-with-the-russian-mafia @on-a-bender @moi-the-bard @one-more-offbeat-anthem @naturallyathief @queen-rowenas

#destiel #long post #conversations #destiel fic #hallmark

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karimac · 3 years

Text

...in the details, Part 2

A/N: Warning for this series: 18+ audience (minors DNI), some cinematic level violence, some fluff and angst. Doubt that smut will be involved, but it may be implied. I’ll make sure that is noted clearly if it pops up.

All relationships, at this point anyway, are platonic.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

A bit about the OC Kari

Part 1

All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 2,249

Before you ventured into Westview, a flight of birds overhead reminded you of Redwing and Sam. Poor Sam. That sixth sense you had told you that fight at the compound was going to lead you all into very weird places. And the first one left you very squarely not in the room once again.

This time it was Steve and Bucky being thick as thieves, and you and Sam were…making a sandwich run? Couldn’t exactly get GrubHub to make a delivery to an attack site, could you? Bruce did not want some driver with a cellphone putting video up on Snapchat. “How would that look?” he bemoaned as he worked on the time travel platform. “We’d be getting tourists left and right. I don’t need that.” So off you and Sam went.

“You know, you could just, you know,” Sam started to say as he waved his hands like he thought a wizard would do, “and just poof up a plate of stuff. Right? With extra food for Banner, of course. He inhales tacos like nobody’s business. Just ask Tic Tac.”

“Sam, what have I told all of you before? Magic is the transfer of energy and matter. No suitable food stuff means no sandwiches. I can’t just think about the deli counter at Wegman’s and make a sandwich and a side of coleslaw appear in my hand. So, we’ll order on the app and pick it up. Just like everyone else. Before I hit the button, any changes to your order?”

“No, it’s fine. But don’t tell me you’ve never done shit like that when you’ve had your back against it,” Falcon huffed as you went to the rental car you’d gotten earlier in the day. That, thank Heaven, was easy to get at the local but extremely small airport.

“I’ve killed small rodents and eaten them, and I don’t mean just rabbits. Snakes, too. And, well, birds of prey, like falcons,” you groaned as you started to get into the car, but you stopped and headed back to the passenger side. “And I know you hate my driving, so here you go,” you said as you handed Sam the keys. “Sorry it isn’t a Ferrari. I was lucky to get this Kia. They didn’t exactly have anything race course worthy.”

As Sam climbed in, he saw bags of gear in the back seat. “You pulling a Wanda? Need some me time away from all us testosterone jockeys? Cyborg is going to be pissed.”

“Bucky has other stuff to deal with, trust me,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “He does not need to add Crazy Old Broad to his growing list of things to do and people to take care of this week. I heard him talking to Steve…”

“You? Eavesdropping? You are human!” Sam smirked, but then he saw the comment had hit a nerve. “You know I was kidding, right?”

“I know you are,” you said as you swallowed hard. In reality, you were not exactly buying that last comment. Sam was a sweetheart, but his comment sounded like things Tony and Steve had said about you in the weeks before the Time Heist. It depended on the situation, but one or the other of them seemed to question you, your motives, your powers and what they could do, and, at times, your grasp on reality. You did have a connection to a goddess they couldn’t see. Blaming them for having those questions just was not in your wheelhouse. “And yeah, maybe I just need to go figure a few things out. You guys know how to get me back here if you need me.”

“Somehow I don’t think Steve, Bucky and I would look so great standing and screaming your name in the middle of a fight,” Sam noted as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Now who is having issues with gender roles?” you said with a very pronounced side glance. “Sam, we are all human. We all need a save now and then. Maybe you’ll never have to utter my name again after today, unless you guys can’t find something you think I hid? Thor will be back once he’s done exploring the universe, and you can always get him here fast if you have Strange find him. And Wong is just dying for his shot as a full time Avenger. We all know that! And I can go back and do, well, goddess stuff, I guess. And raise horses. Just, please, make sure no one drops the ball on Parker. He lost his parents and his uncle. Losing Tony will hit him harder than anyone likely expects. He’s a good kid. He just needs support and guidance. Now, want to get this thing moving, or do you want me to drive?”

“And have you antagonize the local cops by going Mach 1? No thank you!”

You had to laugh at that one. You did tend to floor it. A lot.

++++++++++

A short time later, you and Sam rolled back to the site Bruce had chosen to set up the time travel platform. After you two handed out all the food, you realized it was really time for you to get going. No, you didn’t have a train, plane or bus to catch or someone to meet. You just knew it was going to get harder to make the break the longer you stayed there.

“She’s pulling a Wanda on us,” Sam said as he finished off the last of the sweet tea he had grabbed at the deli where you’d gotten food. “I think it’s too much he-man macho stuff, but she won’t fess up to that.”

“Wilson, how many brothers did I have?” you asked as you cleaned up the trash from the table Bruce had borrowed from a local park that had been wrecked during the battle. It had a huge hole in the end, but hey, it was good enough for the moment.

“Eight,” Bucky replied before Sam got the chance. “Just don’t quiz me on all their names. I remember your twin, Branan, and the one who was the vampire. Ewan? Right?”

“Yup, that’s right,” you grinned at Buck. “And no quiz. Promise,” you said as you raised your left hand and crossed your heart with your right.

“Why are you leaving?” Bruce asked as he adjusted the sling on his still injured arm, putting extra emphasis on the word “are” as he uttered it. “We need all the help we can get.”

Bruce, heaven help him, was suddenly one of the last active OG Avengers standing on Earth. Thor was off finding himself with the Guardians, and no one could really begrudge him that. He needed time to heal, and you knew all too well that was not easy nor time limited. Clint had more or less retired again after Natasha’s sacrifice on Vormir. Steve was getting ready to take the stones back, but upon his return, he’d likely join up with Sam and Bucky again to root out any remaining Hydra cells. That left Bruce in a very different place this time around.

“Bruce, you don’t really need me being a head case. Trust me. You do not need me giving any news outlets ammunition to blast headlines that make the team look less than spotless. I need to go home, at least for a little while,” you replied, knowing full well you were not telling him or the others everything. “And as I reminded Sam, you guys can just call me, and I’ll be here. Just whisper my name. Or yell it. Whatever works. Text me! If it’s an emergency, and if I’m not in the middle of some new damned war on my end, I’ll come running. But I have a feeling you guys are going to be just fine. Hell, I’ll give you a blessing before I head out.”

Yeah. A blessing. More like the final nail in the coffin. The words to start the spell to make them forget you.

“Big guy, you first,” you said as you put your hands on Bruce’s injured right arm. “And no, I am doing this, Bruce. It won’t be a full healing, but it should speed things up. You got this, big guy. Biggest brain. Biggest heart. May you realize just how much this team was built with your sweat and tears as it was anyone else’s.”

“I can’t change your mind?” Bruce asked as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye and pout a bit. “And I am not asking because you are likely the only one of us who can cook…”

“I’m pretty sure all of you guys can cook something. Maybe not a good Colcannon or a fine Dublin coddle, but you’ll survive. As for the cupcakes, you guys may need to get a bakery on speed dial,” you added with a laugh because you knew they’d make that bakery rich. The Avengers loved their sugary snacks.

“Just don’t bug my sister, Bruce,” Sam noted as he waited for you to come over to him. “I still remember asking why the Cupcake Lady had a sword that night when those demon things attacked near the tower. I never asked. Why the cupcakes?”

“And not why the demons or the sword?” you said as you nearly choked on your words. “You realize that was before Steve saw me at Peggy’s funeral. That night was truly a fluke, Sam. No one was supposed to see that side of me then. As for the cupcakes, they were my entry to your world. Gifts from a fan girl. They’re easy to carry, a synch to personalize when needed, and everyone can have their own without fighting,” you said with a grin as Sam shook his head. “What?”

“You sound like Sarah.”

“Then I am in good company. Tell her the good stuff you’ve told me all these years. The words of wisdom. The little jokes. The pep talks. Tell her often. A single mom with two boys needs that. Be there for her, and drag these guys to see her, too. It would do the boys a world of good to have all their uncles stop by. Now, Samuel,” you said as you gave him a hug, “remember to keep these guys flying right. And if the world drops opportunity in your lap, whatever it might be, do not look at it and push it away without a lot of thought. The world needs Sam Wilson, the hero with a heart.”

And now the hardest part of this good bye had you wiping tears from your eyes. “I know. I’m a big mush. Girls from Brooklyn would laugh at me for this, right? Sorry, but girls from Naas and Athy do cry sometimes. I’m going to miss you two lugs. A lot.”

“Lugs. Last time you called us that was in ’43,” Bucky said as he looked down at his feet for a minute. “Somehow Hydra missed that memory.”

“You’ll see us again,” Steve said as he turned briefly to see where the case with the stones was on the platform. “But this time, it better not take 70 years.”

As you looked at the best friends, something about their auras seemed off. They had been planning something when you almost walked in on their chat a few days ago. You had no idea what it was, and you suddenly didn’t want to hang around to find out what the next act was going to bring.

“Just…watch your back, Steve. From what Clint said about Vormir, that one is going to be tough. And Buck, whatever comes next, I’m rooting for you. Even if you can’t see me doing it.”

“You really don’t have to leave,” Bruce kept insisting as you hefted your backpack on your shoulder.

“Dr. Banner, do you really want to fight my demons after all this? I have enemies. You just haven’t seen them yet. Frankly, the only reason that Hydra didn’t grab me before I hooked up with the Howling Commandos was because I was pulled into another dimension by one of those enemies. It was only by some weird twist of fate that Peggy found me when she did. If the veil between worlds had not been so thin near that camp, I might never have made it back, or Hydra might have found me first. It was pure dumb luck.”

{{And, Heaven help me, part of it was these two lugs over here}} you thought as you turned to head to your car. Then you stopped. This was a lot harder than it had been any time before, but it was the curse of an immortal to have to keep moving on. “I wish you luck, joy and happiness. I wish you peace. And, if you are truly lucky, memories long enough to have little space to spare for the likes of me because they are filled with so much more! See you in my dreams, for now anyway, fellas.”

++++++++++

You rolled out of there before Steve started his mission to return the stones, and you got a text from Bruce hours later telling you everything that had happened. Steve not coming back as planned. Then an older version of Steve shows up, sitting on a bench near the platform, and he gives Sam the shield. Right in front of Bucky.

It was now weeks later. No. It was months later, and here you were staring up at the sign for Westview. You’d gotten out of your rental car so you could get a feeling for the area around this little town.

“You made it back,” a voice said behind you. “How are you, after all that mess with Wanda and that Agatha woman? She was a real piece of work.”

The person speaking to you was Dr. Darcy Lewis. Friend of Thor and Dr. Jane Foster. Why was she even here?

You couldn’t fully figure out what the hell she was talking about. You didn’t remember being here before. Yet, you knew who she was, and you had never met her before. Or at least you couldn’t remember meeting her, here or anywhere else.

“Apparently not as great as I thought I was,” you muttered as you winced again. “Dr. Lewis, how long ago was the blip?”

“Give or take a week, about six months ago,” she replied as you started to pace. “Why?”

“Shit. Not this again,” you hissed as you looked up at the sign once more. “I think I’m going to need your help. How much do you know about Celtic myths and Irish history, Dr. Lewis?”

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 13: I Have Trust Issues But Okay

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain. We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity. We tried to keep a low profile because Percy and I's name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. It seemed like when they saw me with Percy they realized me and my family are gone. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as we got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in my eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. I was holding his hand with my knife on the other hand. The picture's caption read: Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with three teenage accomplices. It has been found out one of which is Y/N L/N, a twelve-year-old girl who went missing with her family during a trip. Percy Jackson's stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told Percy. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure. The rest of the day we spent alternately pacing the length of the train (because I had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows. Calm Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I looked around the passenger car, the adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines, Percy and I saw an amazed look. Another time, toward evening, Percy said he saw something huge moving through the woods. He swore it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and it was the size of a Hummer, then it leaped through the trees and was gone. I told him he might have been seeing things and Annabeth agreed. Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. I sat between Percy and Annabeth. Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking Percy up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed. "So," Annabeth asked me, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants Percy's help?" "What do you mean?" "You heard it too didn't you? When he was asleep just now, he mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Has he told you what he's dreaming about?" "Gossiping about me?" Percy yawned. "Pretty much everyone is. So I think we'll join." I said. "Annabeth wants to know about your dream. I could tell he was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time he'd dreamed about it. Then he finally told her. Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "If you think it's Hades, that doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs." She pointed out. "He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?" We could. If you bring us together we could trade. "What?" Percy and Annabeth looked at me in worry. "Something on my face? Is there something close?" "Y/N, you did it again." Percy said. "Did what?" "You... Talked. Differently. Like weirdly." "Your definition of weird doesn't describe me. I did nothing wrong. I haven't even given an in put on your topic. Which we should get back on." I don't know why I had no idea what they meant by me talking weirdly, but I felt like I should stay away from that topic. "I guess ... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?" She explained looking at me as if I was the one that needed convincing. I shook my head, wishing I knew the answer. I thought about what Grover had told me, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something. Where is it? Where? Maybe Grover sensed my emotions. He snorted in his sleep, muttered something about vegetables, and turned his head. Percy readjusted Grover's cap so it covered his horns. "Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time-" "This time?" I asked. "You mean you've run into them before?" Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. "Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom." "What would you do if it was your dad?" "That's easy," she said. "I'd leave him to rot." "You're not serious?" Annabeth's gray eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she'd worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the hellhound. "My dad's resented me since the day I was born," she said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent." "But how ... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital...." "I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like, maybe he'd take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular' mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist." I stared out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting by. I wanted to make Annabeth feel better. I don't know but the only way I could think of was a hug. So I wrapped and arm around her shoulders. She stiffened unsure of what I'd done. "My parents, they loved me all the same. The closet I got to talking about Gods was when they thought me. Not a single hint was dropped about me being a halfblood. I mean if you count my grandma Hestia. Which I think is just named after the goddess. I mean yeah, you had a not so wonderful life... But at least you're who you are now." I smiled at her. Eying Percy I gave him a nod towards Annabeth telling him to comfort her since he'd started it anyway. "My mom married a really awful guy," he told her. "Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe that's what your dad was thinking." Annabeth kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father's. I wondered why she wore it if she hated him so much. "He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife-my stepmom-treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened-you know, something with monsters-they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk.' Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away." "How old were you?" "Same age as when I started camp. Seven." "But ... you couldn't have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself." "Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me, for a short time, anyway." I wanted to ask what happened, but Annabeth seemed lost in sad memories. Luke had already told me some of these part where he went here with Annabeth and Thalia. So I gazed out the train windows as the dark fields of Ohio raced by. Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis. Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city. "I want to do that," she sighed. "What?" I asked. "Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Y/N?" "Only in pictures." "Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years." Percy laughed. "You? An architect?" Her cheeks flushed. "Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention." "Percy! I think she'll be incredible." I pinched his arm. We watched the churning brown water of the Mississippi below. I took Percy's hand in fear that the water would just grab me and drag me down. "Sorry," Annabeth said. "That was mean." I nudged Percy to apologize as well, "I didn't mean to make fun of you. I'm sorry." "Can't you two work together a little?" I pleaded. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?" Annabeth had to think about it. "I guess ... the chariot," she said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete." "Then you two can cooperate, too. Right?" We rode into the city, Annabeth watching as the Arch disappeared behind a hotel. "I suppose," she said at last. We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour layover before departing for Denver. Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food." "Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing." "Sightseeing?" "The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?" Grover, Percy and I exchanged looks. I wanted to say no, but seeing the stars in Annabeth's as she watched, she was too adorable to say no to. Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters." The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn't all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay. I kept looking around, though, at the other people in line. "You smell anything?" Percy murmured to Grover. He took his nose out of the jelly-bean bag long enough to sniff. "Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything." I took a peek at my knife and saw there was a very weak glow, or maybe a sunlight reflection. Somewhere in between. "Guys," I said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?" Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?" "Well, Hade-" Grover cleared his throat. "We're in a public place.... You mean, our friend downstairs?" "Um, right," I said. "Our friend way downstairs. Doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?" "You mean the Helm of Darkness," Annabeth said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting." "He was there?" Percy asked. She nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus-the darkest day of the year. But his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true...." "It allows him to become darkness," Grover confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?" "But then ... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" I asked. Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks. "We don't," Grover said. "Thanks, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?" Someone else could be watching. Hades isn't the only one to blend in the shadow young vessel. But worry not, all in the darkness, shall be your ally. So Hades will also be my ally? As air and water refuse, land and all there is shall be your ally. Can't I be allies with all? Hades, Zeus, Poseidon. Everyone. The three of them looked at me in surprise. "Don't say their name!" Grover whispered loudly. "Whose name? I haven't said a name!" I could talk through you young vessel. Is this the first time this happened? How can you forget about our conversation? Talk through me? Who are you? I am one of which that'll make sure you become one with yourself. "Y/N!!" Percy yelled. "What? Geez, you're too loud." "We've been calling your name for three minutes." Annabeth said. "Are you... Okay?" "Yeah why wouldn't I be?" When the tiny elevator car came. We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. I figured maybe the dog was a seeing-eye Chihuahua, because none of the guards said a word about it. We started going up, inside the Arch. I'd never been in an elevator that went in a curve, and my stomach wasn't too happy about it. "No parents?" the fat lady asked us. She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she looked like a blue-jean blimp. "They're below," Annabeth told her. "Scared of heights." "Oh, the poor darlings." The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady eyes like its owner, intelligent and vicious. I said, "Sonny. Is that his name?" "No," the lady told me. She smiled, as if that cleared everything up. At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was okay, but if there's anything I like less than a confined space, it's a confined space six hundred feet in the air. I was ready to go pretty quick. I could see Percy was too. So I took his hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze to calm him down despite my breakdown. Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes. I steered Annabeth while Percy with Grover, toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and we were about to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for me. The park ranger said, "Next car, sir." "We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you two." But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, "Naw, it's okay. We'll see you guys at the bottom. I'll keep an eye on him." Grover and Annabeth both looked nervous, but they let the elevator door slide shut. Their car disappeared down the ramp. Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, a little boy with his parents, the park ranger, and the fat lady with her Chihuahua. Percy and I smiled uneasily at the fat lady. She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth. Wait a minute. Forked tongue? Before I could decide if I'd really seen that, her Chihuahua jumped down and started yapping at Percy. "Now, now, sonny," the lady said. "Does this look like a good time? We have all these nice people here." "Doggie!" said the little boy. "Look, a doggie!" His parents pulled him back. The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips. "Well, son," the fat lady sighed. "If you insist." Ice started forming in my stomach. "Urn, did you just call that Chihuahua your son?" "Chimera, dear," the fat lady corrected. "Not a Chihuahua. It's an easy mistake to make." She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green. When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were sideways slits, like a reptile's. The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman, then to a lion. The bark became a roar. The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster. The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA-RABID, FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS-IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS-EXT. 954. I immediately pulled out my knife. And waited for the moment to jump in front of Percy who was ten feet away from the Chimera's bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the creature would lunge. The snake lady made a hissing noise that might've been laughter. "Be honored, Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!" Percy and I stared at each other for a second stared at her. All he could think to say was: "Isn't that a kind of anteater?" She howled, her reptilian face turning brown and green with rage. "I hate it when people say that! I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me. For that, Percy Jackson, my son shall destroy you!" The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to take Percy's arm to pull him aside and dodge the bite. We ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry open the emergency exit doors. I couldn't let them get hurt. I positioned myself able to parry any oncoming attack. Percy uncapped his sword, ran to the other side of the deck, and yelled, "Hey, Chihuahua!" The Chimera turned faster than I would've thought possible. Before he could swing my sword, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue pit, and shot a column of flame straight at him. Percy dove through the explosion. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was so intense, I could feel it where I stand and it was like I was in a sauna. Where Percy had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges. Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument. As the Chimera turned, Percy slashed at its neck. That was a fatal mistake. The blade sparked harmlessly off the dog collar. I saw the serpent tail lifted it whipped around and with all I could I ran and raised my knife to block it. Percy tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera's mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around his ankles and pulled him off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River. I pulled a weaponless Percy behind me and raised my small one. We backed into the hole in the wall. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its lips. The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. "They don't make heroes like they used to, eh, son?" The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish us off now that we were beaten. I glanced at the park ranger and the family. The little boy was hiding behind his father's legs. I had to protect these people. I couldn't just ... die. I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. And I was scared. There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Trust our hero. Jump with him. He had sworn to save us. Far, far below, the river glittered. Percy and I shared a reluctant and fearful look. If we died, would the monsters go away? Would they leave the humans alone? "If you are the son of Poseidon," Echidna hissed, "you would not fear water. Jump, Percy Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword. Prove your bloodline. Maybe your small friend could survive with you." We both knew the water hated me. But I trusted Percy. I'd jump if he told me. The Chimera's mouth glowed red, heating up for another blast. "Either you have no faith," Echidna told me. "You do not trust the gods. I cannot blame you, little cowards. Better you die now. The gods are faithless." Percy took my hand and backed up, he looked down at the water. Percy looked at me and smiled. I knew what he wanted. Holding his hand tighter, I got closer to him. "Die, faithless one," Echidna rasped, and the Chimera sent a column of flame toward our faces. "Father, please," I heard Percy say. "Don't hurt her. Help us." We turned and jumped. Our clothes on fire, we plummeted toward the river.

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childofhalloween · 3 years

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A Story With No Name Aka Why You Don't Ask Idoits for Dating Advice

So this was a short little one shot I got an idea for after binging Graystillplays Sims videos for days. If the formatting or anything seems off it's because I wrote it all on a phone. Well this short one shot turned out 9 pages long opps. So I hope you enjoy. Also writing an Austrillis slow burn not really sure where it goes but if anyone is interested let me know. Anyways onto the show! Thomas Alan Wenis better known as Tommy looked down at the paper in his hand. This address had to be a mistake. He had just flown down to Florida to get away for a while, see the ocean, maybe even clear up his depression. He hadn't brought much with him just an old suitcase and what little money he drained from his savings account.

That was exactly what attracted him to the random message board offering low rent living. With the price of rent all Tommy was expecting was a cot in a closet somewhere. Not that he minded as long as he had a roof and somewhere to put his black boots he didn't care.

But this, this wasn't right. Couldn't be right. The place was huge. Probably the biggest house he had ever seen. 4 floors are least and he could see the corner a large pool in the back.

He checked the address of his contact Melvin, and it matched. This had to be some sort of scheme. He knew it was too good to be true, like everything else in his life.

With a sigh he picked up his bag walking to the front door. Maybe they would be able to at least point him in the right direction.

Ringing the bell he sat out on the front step for a moment before the large oak door opened and a man dressed only in a towel and some sneakers opened the door.

"Uhhh hi. I'm sorry to disturb you but I am looking for someone at this address. His name is Melvin." Tommy said avoiding eye contact with the red haired man.

"Yeah that's me! Melvin Eugene Johnston. But everyone just calls me Florida Man." He said holding out his hand Tommy awkwardly taking it. "You must be Tommy!"

"Uhhh yeah. I'm sorry did I come at a bad time?" He said motioning to the towel.

"Huh this? Nah. Just like to feel a cool breeze if you know what I mean." He joked opening the door motioning for him to come in.

The place was almost too much for Tommy to take in but nonetheless followed Florida Man on a tour around the house.

"I uhhh….I hate to say I think I miss understood about the price." Tommy said knowing their was no way he could ever afford a place like this.

"Oh don't stress about it. Just get me the $300 whenever. Everyone here is pretty cool. We all just pitch in when we can ya know? We all take turns cleaning and cooking….well except for Aussie. Fire department said they are gonna fine us for another kitchen fire." He said casually. Tommy couldn't help but wonder what he was getting into.

"Then toss in some cash for some beers or food when ya can. Everyone just kind of does their own thing. You will see all kinds of people come and go. Right now we got a lot of our 'lifers'."

"How can you afford this place?" Tommy said looking at another large staircase.

"Oh it's already paid for. I bought it with the money from my lawsuit with Madonna."

"You sued Madonna!?!" Tommy said, not believing what he was hearing.

“Oh yeah I did. Her show was supposed to start at 8 she didn't go on till 10. I wasted so much money on overpriced water down beer I don't even remember the damn thing. Next thing I know I'm in the hospital. Apparently I fell down 12 rows of concrete stairs trying to get some nachos from concessions." He said casually as he continued. "Then I used the money I won to buy this place but it got lonely & quiet by myself so I started renting out rooms. Made for one big odd family."

Opening a door he motioned to Tommy "So here's your room. Get comfortable. When you're done feel free to head on down to the kitchen, meet everyone."

Tommy had hoped he could even find his way back down to the kitchen. It was going to take a little while to get used to this place. He still couldn't wrap his mind around all of this.

But unbeknownst to him the craziest part was yet to come. His new roommates.

Finally finding the kitchen he saw Floridaman busy having a beer next to a tall man with the most epic red beard he'd ever seen and a smaller but seemingly louder blond wearing sunglasses. And behind them both a slightly deranged looking man with jet black hair.

They all seemed to get quiet as he walked awkwardly into the kitchen.

"I was wondering if you were going to find us." Florida Man said thrusting a Bud Lite in Tommy's hand not bothering to ask if he'd want one. "Boys this is our newest guest Tommy Wenis"

The blond let out an almost mocking laugh.

"Wenis!?! Ya gotta be bloody kiddin me. Bet that must have been a rough primary career. The names are just endless!"

"Don't listen to him, he can be a jerk but he doesn't really mean it." The redhead said standing up holding out his hand cordially. "Names Tim by the way."

"Ahhh I'm just taking the piss with ya mate...kinda. Name's Trevor but everyone here likes to call me Australian Man. Ya know obvious reasons."

Finally the dark hair man with the slightly odd shaped face spoke up. "And I'm Colono. Colono Scopy"

"Uh huh...so is this everyone who lives here?" Tommy said looking at the motley crew in front of him.

"No the girls are off doing something or another. I think they mentioned girls day. I don't know I wasn't listening." Florida Man said, looking at the clock on the stove. "But they should be back any minute."

As if on cue the door opened and the sound of over lapped talking was heard.

"Speak of the devil mate." Australian Man said slightly in awe of Florida Man's timing.

A brunette wearing what looked to be a thrift store tourist shirt walked into the kitchen.

"Hey Whitley come here meet our new roommate Tommy." Florida Man said.

"Hey I'm Whitley " she shook his hand. He couldn't help but notice the slight smell of cheap bottom shelf vodka radiating off her.

Next a woman walked in with the best blond afro Tommy had ever seen.

"Hey Bab this is our new roommate Tom-"

"Maybe he'll last longer then the others." Bab said almost miserably as she walked out the back door not stopping.

"Sorry she's kin-d of…." Florida Man tried to think of the word.

"Manic Depressive." The girl with blonde and pink braids said matter of factly. "Text book diagnosis really."

"Are you a Dr?" Tommy asked everyone just laughed.

"Not in the slightest. Just been through a lot of psychologists."

"Ellis Dee, meet Tommy." Florida Man introduced.

"Tommy Wenis." Australian Man said with a snicker.

"Oh my God do people call you Tiny Wenis?" Ellis said with a giggle.

It didn't matter though because all Tommy's attention was now focused on the tall blond with golden hair walking in. He had never seen anyone like her. She was like nothing he'd ever encountered. She was…..she was…..she was absolutely stunning.

"Whose that?" Tommy asked Tim quietly.

"Huh? Oh that's Beth. Be nice, she's a sweet girl." Tim whispered back.

"Hey Beth say hi to Tommy the new guy." Florida said.

"Hi name's Beth." She introduced herself in a thick Southern accent.

"I….uhh...I'm Tommy." Tommy managed to mumble out.

All the guys exchanged an odd look.

"So where are ya rollin in from?" She asked with a smile.

"....I uhhh… I come from….places. I gotta go." He said, scrambling out of the kitchen to his room.

"That was odd." Colono said all the others nodded.

As the months went on Tommy found he had more in common with this rag tag bunch then he ever had with anyone else. He spent his days joking with Colono, drinking beers with the Florida Man & Australian Man, discussing art with Bab Ross, hitting the occasional bong with Ellis Dee, and pretty much bonding with everyone.

Everyone that is except for Beth. It seemed like every time they had a moment together his mind just blanked. Like it shut down to nothing and he couldn't figure out what the hell to say so he would say something awkward and just excuse himself.

It became apparent to everyone what was going on, everyone that was except Beth as she walked into the living room one day.

"Mind if I sat by ya hun?" She asked. He looked up at her eyes wide.

"I….uhh….murder show…..its over…..here you go. For you." He said, tossing the remote at her feet before running out the room.

"Ouch that was painful to watch." Australian Man looked up from the card game the guys had been playing.

Tommy pulled out a chair and plopped down not responding.

"Hey man, it's0 ok you will get her next time." Florid Man said putting a hand on his shoulder sympathetically….well really trying to sneak a peek at Colono's cards

"Ughhh. It's like everytime I try to talk to her I look like a total ass." Tommy grumbled.

"Yah we know, we all seen it." Australian Man joked as threw another chip in the pot.

"Well what am I supposed to say? Hey I think you're gorgeous, will you have a coffee with me?" He said, causing all the other men to laugh.

"No, no. You're thinking too much into it. What women love to hear is compliments." Tim Horton said as Bab Ross happened to walk past. "Watch this."

"Hello Bab you are looking positively radiant today!" Tim said, putting on a charming smile.

"Whatever you say Tim." Bab said with a shrug as she kept walking.

This caused all the other men to crack up.

"Laugh all you want but she acknowledged me. That's progress."

"Nah ya got it all wrong mate. What birds really dig on is a badass." Australian Man said getting up walking to the back yard. "This is how it's done boys."

Strutting slightly he slid up to Ellis Dee who was sitting outside enjoying the sun.

"Hey Ellie." He said acting casual.

"Oh hey Aussie what's up?"

"Did I ever tell you about the time I fought off a whole colony of bog frogs?"

"No I don't think you have."

"Yeah I was out with some blokes and came across these wee little bog frogs must have been mating season or something because next thing I know I'm surrounded by the little wankers! So I start beating them off me. Kicking, punching them in their little frog faces. Just throwing them off left and right. Turns out the little bastards were poisonous. Woke up in the hospital 2 weeks later handcuffed to the hospital bed. Turns out those little piss frogs are on the 'endangered species' list. Luckily for me though the judge granted the coma as time served. All I got was probation and I'll be off that by next year." Australian Man said cooly before something hit him.

"Probation…..OH SHIT! My probation meeting!" He said looking down at his watch. "I'm 6 fucking months late! I can not be arrested again! FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!" he said running into the house leaving behind a very confused Ellis Dee.

All the guys watched as Australian Man ran through the house screaming obscenities as he looked for his cell phone.

"Anyways….what about you Florida Man. How do you talk to the ladies?" Tim Horton asked.

Florida Man shrugged and got up walking to the kitchen to see Whitley at the table drinking a large glass of orange juice.

"Bud Lite?" Florida Man offered holding out a beer. She looked at him confused.

"Its only 11 not even noon. Too early for beer." she said.

"Ok." Florida Man said walking back with both beers.

"Mornings are for screwdrivers." Whitley said to herself pour more dollar vodka into her drink.

"No, no I am sure I called. Yeah right when I landed. No I made sure I message with a Shelly? Or maybe a Jan? Or was it a Steven? I'm not sure. Mighta been a new?.....oh maybe a temp! Bloody hard to find good help huh? I'm sure it's there just check the last few months. Ring when this is all cleared up." Australian Man said, hanging up his phone not waiting for a reply on the other end. "Bloody cunts..….so what'd I miss."

"That's it. That's the only move I got." Florida Man said with a shrug.

"You guys are hopeless. No wonder I'm the only one in a relationship." Colono complained before turning to Tommy. "Tommy don't listen to them they are all going to die alone."

"Hey!"

"Fuck ya too!

"That was rude….but true."

"Women, they love romance. You can sweep a woman off her feet just by words. Just watch my example gentlemen." Colono said as he sauntered out the door to Flo Cane who was watching tv.

"Oh there she is mi amor. I was looking everywhere for you." He said sliding next to her.

"What is it? On no! Are you having issues again? Is the burning back? Have you been taking your meds? Do I need to call the Dr for you again?"

"What!?! No! That's not it!" Colono said in a panic as the sound of laughter came from around the corner.

"Hey don't listen to them. You know stress makes it worse." Flo comforted.

"It's not that!" Colono said frustrated.

"Are you sure? I know how cranky you get when you forget to take your meds."

"I'm not cranky!" Colono yelled as he stormed off.

"I'm making you an appointment just to be sure! I know you are scared of making phone calls." She shouted after him as he stormed off.

The other guys were currently in a huge pile on the floor in total hysterics none of them were able to stand. It took almost 10mins for them to calm down to breathe.

Finally collecting himself Tommy stood up straightening out his clothes. After all that advice he had finally figured it out. He knew what he had to do. Mustering up all the courage he could he moved forward before he could chicken out.

"Where are you going?" Florida Man asked as Tommy made his way outside.

"I'm going to do what I need to." He said walking out into the back yard where the girls currently huddled together talking about how weird the morning had been.

"Hello ladies. Can I talk to Beth alone please?" He asked.

Suddenly a lot made sense as they gave each other a knowing look.

"She's all yours." Whitley said with a l knowing smirk.

Silence still overcame the 2 as they sat there totally obvious to the group of 8 peering around the corner.

"What did you want to talk about?" Beth asked looking over slightly confused about what had been going on. From what she heard it's been a very confusing day.

"I…..I…." He took a deep breath before blurting out quickly. "I think you're absolutely gorgeous and would you like to get coffee with me?"

It took Beth a moment to even figure out what he had said and then another for it to really register.

"You, you think I'm pretty?" She said shocked no one had said anything like that before.

"Gorgeous actually." He said his face was burning red. "Look if I offended you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"Yes." She cut him off.

"Huh?"

"I would love to get coffee with you." She said as a big smile crossed her face.

"Ok when?"

"Now?" She suggested.

"Sounds great." He said getting up offering his hand to her. "I know a great place."

They both walked right past the group of the gawkers so invested in their conversation they didn't even seem to notice.

"Oh my God that is the sweetest thing I've ever seen!" Whitley gushed.

"Guys are never that romantic. She's so lucky." Flo said wistfully.

"Man I wish I could find someone who thinks like that." Ellis mused.

"Yeah it was pretty nice." Bab said in her bored Bab tone.

"Are ya fucking kidding me right now!?!" Australian said, throwing his hands up in the air as he stormed back inside.

"Seriously? That? That's it? Thats romantic?" Colono complained following behind.

"Wow guy did have some skills after all." Florida said patting Tim on the back sympathetically as Tim mumbled to himself annoyed.

"What's their problem?" Bab asked.

"Men are weird." Whitley said all the other girls nodded in agreement.

#graystillplays #GSP #Sims #florida man #australian man #colono scopy #tommy wenis #tim horton #beth amphetamine #ellis dee #whitely airagaga #bab ross #flo caine #the man family #my fanfiction #crack

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vanaera · 4 years

Text

The Heart Holiday | Act 1 | myg

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing your PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader

AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives manager!yoongi x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat)

Wordcount: 11, 798

Warnings: Lots of curses from two emotionally-constipated characters (PG-15 Rating)

A/N | This fic is in part with FWL’s Valentine’s project, The Luv Library: Romance. I had this premise about a Valentine’s holiday for a while and finally, I got to use it for this fic.

next | series masterlist

Ten seconds are enough to look at Min Yoongi. Two seconds to look at his unkempt, unprofessional, and stupid fringes that nonsensically cover his already small eyes. Three to look at his stupid, smug smile. Another two for his overly-confident stance—leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table, hands clasping together—as if he’s better and of higher power than anyone else around the room when he’s just a measly representative of the day for the Creatives Team. And the last three seconds—they are enough to look at his mocking eyes, his jeering gaze, and the arrogant quirk of his brow.

This is the same look he gave to Y/N when he got promoted ahead of her. This is the same look he flashed to Y/N when he berated every word choice in her reports. And, this is the same look in his face when he ruined her presentation which could have been her ticket way out from this hellish job. Smug, arrogant, and proud, Min Yoongi is set to ruin Y/N’s life. And all Y/N could do now is glare at him and hope her eyes could set him on fire so it will be easy for hell to swallow him up and—

“Y/N?”

Y/N whips her head to her right, “S-sorry?”

Nancy Kim clicks her tongue, “Why are you just standing there, glaring at the windows? I told you to distribute the copies among the room.”

“R-right,” Y/N gulps and rushes forward. She hands the copies of last month’s Travel Loca issues among the representative of each department. Gracie from the Marketing Team sneaks her a small smile, which Y/N returns. However, that smile falls into a frown when she reaches the devil himself.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Min Yoongi greets, chin rested on his palm. When Y/N doesn’t greet back, Yoongi takes it upon himself to wink at her. With a huff, Y/N slams down the copy on the table in front of him, enough for the glossy, firm cover page to hit his pile of notes and cause some pages to fly off the table.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nancy calls out, sighing. She waves away at Y/N and the latter takes it as a cue to sit back on her chair. Nancy leans back in her huge black chair, “Okay, let’s get the ball rolling. Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Y/N seats herself on the chair by the corner of the room, behind Nancy’s chair, far from the round meeting table. Every team representative starts to report their progress last month and their suggestions for the next, next month’s issue. Meanwhile, Min Yoongi is still busy picking up his notes on the floor. When he’s gathered them back, now in a sloppy stack, he looks from his crouched position and flashes Y/N his middle finger. She flashes back a finger at him, grinning. Y/N looks down at her small pocket notebook.

“Y/N – 1. Yoongi – 0.”

So far, this morning is really good.

Y/N hates Min Yoongi, and this is beyond an understatement. She hates him so much that the word “hate” started to become insufficient to describe her tantamount distaste for that man. Y/N blames his last name for that. “Min” should not be how his last name spelled. It should be M-E-A-N because that man is beyond mean.

When Y/N first met Yoongi, she knew there’s something off with him. He stands so arrogantly, so prideful as if he deserved every bit of the floor space of Travel Loca’s Main Office when he just got hired because there’s no other job-seeker that has actually applied. Yoongi looks at other people as if he’s any much greater than them. Lazy eyes, far-off gaze, indifferent façade—he just looks at you as if he’s listening when he’s actually just hearing so he can make some witty comeback. And Yoongi talks like a dictator know-it-all. He corrects every word people say here and there, like “Y/N, are you sure it’s ‘demonstrate,’ not ‘visualize’? We can’t physically see something if there’s nothing to see,” or “Y/N, you shouldn’t say ‘Xerox.’ It should be ‘photocopy.’ Xerox is just a brand, our junior high teacher told us so,” as if every word anyone says but him, will always be wrong. Yoongi talks as if no one but him will always be right and that everything around him does not deserve a bit of his attention unless they prove their worth to him.

And it frustrates Y/N to no end that no one seems to see his real form but her. Because apparently, Yoongi is “amazing.” Yoongi knows a lot of foreign places, having traveled to Malta, New Zealand, Hawaii, and yaddah yaddah, making his first-hand knowledge essential to the Writing Department. Yoongi has a lot of expertise in various editing apps, and he’s willing to teach the tricks and nicks to it to anybody. Anybody but Y/N. Because behind closed doors, Y/N knows his true face: Min Yoongi is a thick-skinned, double-faced bitch. That even if his name is on the tip of the tongue of anyone around the office every single morning, his quick promotion as manager of the Creatives Team a never-ending topic starter, Y/N knew the real story. Because Min Yoongi started out as Nancy’s Personal Assistant…just like Y/N.

Nancy Kim is the best photojournalist in the history of travel magazines. God-tier even, because when Nancy is just an intern in The Traveler’s Foot, she wrote the best articles Y/N has ever read. It didn’t matter if they were about a cliché tourist spot that has been featured over and over again or something bizarre that could make anyone wonder someone in their right mind would actually go there. Nancy is the goddess of travel journaling and Y/N obsessively consumed every article she wrote during her entire senior high and college life. So, to be able to get accepted in a company Nancy built, as Nancy’s personal assistant, is a sweet as fuck dream come true. Y/N didn’t care if she has to go home by 12 A.M. or 1 A.M. as Nancy said PA’s always have to leave the office after their bosses left. Nancy just shows the dedication to work one must have. Y/N didn’t find it tiresome when Nancy has to send her back-and-forth for errands both for work and personal life. She’s learning how to be resourceful while being good at time-management all at the same time. She’s learned a lot from Nancy. So, seeing Min Yoongi be so lax at work after getting hired frayed Y/N’s nerves to no end.

Yoongi doesn’t keep a tab on Nancy’s schedules just like Y/N does. He says there’s no reason for such rush to keep every event on track because Nancy will just cancel or push forward them anyway. It’s true, Nancy does sometimes mess up the week calendar Y/N arranged for her, but still, not tabbing anything on your work diary is still an evident proof Yoongi slacks of. He even takes a nap in between work hours for God’s sake. Yoongi also likes to talk behind Nancy’s back: of how inconveniencing, overbearing, and unnecessarily over-the line abuser she is as a boss. He tells this to Y/N day in and day out. Yoongi even mocked Y/N’s work ethic as a “willing subservience to work slavery.” He mercilessly reduced her dedication to work as blind obedience to an authority for the sake of monthly paychecks instead of hard, honest efforts to learn the essential skills in travel journalism.

And, it’s not a miracle no one finds out about this. Because when Yoongi is indeed caught, he finds one loophole in his and Y/N’s dynamic as co-PA’s for Nancy and implicitly, oh so subtly, turns it around against Y/N. Y/N remembers one time when Nancy berated them two for not inserting her friend Rosa’s son’s first birthday party into the 6 PM slot of one Monday in March. After her long sermon, Yoongi apologized for not encoding it into Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet. Y/N handles Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet, not Yoongi. Nancy knows this. So, after her 9-12 shift that same Tuesday, Nancy reminded Y/N of her replaceability in Travel Loca during one of the most tension-filled elevator rides in her life. She went home to her flatmate, Mina, in tears which did not permit her to get an ounce of sleep. Y/N turns up the next day at work, red eyes and red nose close to make Rudolph the reindeer run for his title, only to know from the call logs that Yoongi did not receive Rosa’s call because he was sleeping when Y/N outright told him to take over the phone because she needed a bathroom break.

Min Yoongi is mean and Y/N has seen the last straw of her respectful tolerance to people ticked off by this insufferable man one cursed Thursday night of September.

Thursdays are horrible. It is always assured to be the worst day Y/N will have in a week. Either an investor will change their mind about a deal with Travel Loca, or Nancy will lash out at her because of stress from stupid shenanigans of her rebellious teenage daughter—Thursdays always have it out for Y/N. Y/N can already tell this so when Nancy called for her at 10:30 P.M. to give her a run-down of her schedule for the weekends and the upcoming week. It is already an established routine that Nancy will have Y/N over to her office to give a schedule report at any time of the day. It’s just happened this day that Yoongi took a leave and Y/N shouldered every task to be done, easily wearing her out in the afternoon.

Y/N is close to crying right now because of exhaustion and it does not help that Nancy is wearing a sour face. She does not even look up at Y/N from her laptop when she said, “Tell me this week’s schedule.”

Y/N pulls up her notebook and traces her pen over her notes, “Tomorrow you have an 11 AM meeting with investors from VanTae Apparels. At 1 PM you will have an online meeting with our overseas partners, JM Restaurant Group. We also have to submit the Kim Yuna special feature by 2 PM and at 3 we have the Travel with RM to interview. And–”

“Push the Travel with RM to 2. We’re holding the Yuna feature ‘til next week because Jennie is writing as if she’s still in college.” Nancy presses a hand over her forehead and huffs, “The Writing Department has been consecutively disappointing me with boring, generic articles. Are fresh pieces non-existent nowadays?!”

Y/N looks up, eyes wide, hands sweaty.

Nancy turns back to her laptop, “What else is on my sched?”

“Um, O-on Saturday 4 PM, you are invited to your friend’s, Rica’s baby shower, and for 5, you are invited to Jungsoo’s son’s 1st birthday party. Then Sunday 2 PM is Hana’s sister’s daughter’s 1st birthday party. You are also invited to Nick and Ken’s wedding on Friday and–”

Nancy clicks her tongue, “Cancel them all. I have no time for these parties and meaningless chit-chats that always have these housewives bragging how great their husbands are or their children’s stupid what-nots.”

Y/N nods and slashes through her notes, “Okay.”

“So send them my apologies and give them a $300 gift instead.

“Okay, ma’am.”

Nancy turns her swivel chair to face her, “Did you get my daughter the unpublished sequel of The Swallowing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N smiles, recalling her last week’s adventure and success. Maybe Nancy’s mood will lighten up if she knew how she accomplished such an impossible task. “I got to grab a copy after weeks of talking with R. Lewis’ manager. Luckily, R. Lewis caught wind that it’s for your daughter. So he agreed to give me the copy. I actually have it right now, let me go back to my table –”

“You don’t have to. Suzie changed her mind. She doesn’t like The Swallowing anymore. Return the copy and get her the unpublished sequel instead of Bird and Foe.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly falls as she stammers, “S-sure, no problem.” Deep inside, Y/N cannot help but think to herself, “Yes, Nancy may be fickle-minded and forgetful of differences in company protocols that intervene with such transactions, but she cannot just disregard my hard work! All the money in my train tickets and brain cells have gone all in the drain for nothing—Okay, calm down, Y/N, this is Nancy. Nancy can help you to write the best articles in no time. This is just training for the real deal—

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“S-sorry, what?”

“I said, where’s the USB I told you to get from my laptop at our home? I need the files for the JM Restaurant Group.”

Oh shit. The USB. Y/N told Yoongi to get it since he lived nearer to Nancy’s residence in West Street than her. And since, Yoongi’s on leave, the USB is—!

“And first thing in the morning, I want you to go to the Writing Department to get some fresh stories. I do not want to personally see them or else I will be able to fire one whole department in a day.”

At this, Y/N fiddles with her fingers. “Umm, I think I have a story.”

Nancy quirks her brow.

Y/N wrings her hands behind her back. “I-it’s not yet polished and I still have more to cover on–”

“So, you’re already telling me it’s bad before you even pitch a formal proposal –”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she rushes to Nancy. “No! I-it’s about the Write and Backpack Trip Club. The-they’re a club of unpublished writers, usually late 30s, who met on Facebook and decide to travel together to the countries or places their stories are supposed to take place.” Nancy tilts her head and Y/N picks up her tone. Her hands start to quiver with her voice as she says, “People think—people think it’s hopeless. Like, like, they’re wasting their lives on something so trivial instead of focusing on their jobs. But this club gave them a purpose to still reach for their dreams even when people tell them it’s already too late. And I just,” Y/N wipes a stray tear on her cheek–which she doesn’t know if it’s because of her attachment to the club, Nancy’s new orders, or her frustration at Yoongi for leaving all their responsibilities on her–but she sucks them up and breathes out, “I find it really inspiring to have the courage to seek out your purpose when everything in the world is against you.”

Nancy stares at her, brows furrowed. Another drop of tear falls from Y/N’s eyes. Nancy fixes her eyes back on her laptop. “The USB, Y/N, I need it now. A.S.A.P., capiche.”

Wiping her cheeks again, Y/N nods, “Ye-yeah, capiche.”

Y/N could not remember any time she’s rushed out the office as fast as now. Yoongi’s cell is out of reach and nothing is present in Y/N’s mind but to just run out of the building. She needs to clear her mind. She has to think of a solution. She can’t go back to Nancy empty-handed. Nancy’s already unimpressed of her sloppy work for this day, much more at her uncalled emotional breakdown in her office. She will definitely get fired for sure this time.

The cold dry wind hits Y/N’s face the moment she pushes past the large glass doors of the Rockfort Building. The night sky has blackened into dark indigo and the establishments that dot the neighboring grounds of the building have blurred into monotonous dim shops. With just their solar lights left on, the rest of the complex looked like a washed-out commercial center. The only thing that stands out has to be the small mango tree just a meter away from her—the center-piece and quite the only humanizing element of the harsh Rockfort Complex.

Okay, this is great. Y/N always tend to get the best ideas and solutions when she’s standing near this tree. She proved this twice. First, when Nancy demanded her to re-do all their presentations for VanTae Apparel. Y/N managed to slay it by getting inspired by the mangoes and editing the templates to look like nature’s rendition of Van Gogh’s starry night, which happened to be the favorite painting of VanTae’s CEO. And second, when Yoongi messed up Y/N’s schedules for Nancy’s personal events by misnaming each invitation, this mango tree provided her peace to quickly fix everything up before Nancy gets to the office.

Put your thinking cap on, Y/N. What should you do? Should you rush to Nancy’s house now? Oh no, maybe Yoongi already got the USB. Should you go then to Yoongi’s house? Shit, I don’t know his house address—

“Here’s $25, sir. Thank you!”

Y/N freezes. It can’t be.

Y/N turns to her right only for her eyes to land on a man with a familiar jet black mop of hair, standing about two meters before her, talking with a blue-vested delivery man.

No. No. No. NO. Min Yoongi cannot just swoop out of nowhere and sound so chirpy like that while I have to stress over a problem that I DID NOT create. I cannot get fired in a company I’ve spent my life on for two years just because of this man’s unreasonable incompetence!

Fueled by the purest form of aggravation, Y/N stomps ahead and brushes Yoongi’s shoulder, making him turn back to her.

“Oh, hi, Y/N.”

“‘Hi?!’ ‘Hi,’ yourself, Min Yoongi!—"

“Oh my God,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “she’s Adolf Hitler again.”

“Adolf Hitler?!” Y/N scoffs, “Say it for yourself, Min! You’re Hitler because you’re twisted enough to ruin my career because doing shit in yours is not enough. Where’s Nancy’s USB?!”

“If you’re going to talk about work again, I gotta leave. If you didn’t know, a ‘leave’ is a leave.” He emphasizes the last syllable as he starts to walk toward the street.

Letting common sense knock into her, Y/N momentarily disregards her pride and runs after him. When he rounds the corner of a clothing boutique, she slips by his side and places herself in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking him.

Unlike his usual work attire, Yoongi is clad in a black hoodie and denim ripped jeans, an ensemble that remarkably turned to look horrible in 0.5 seconds just because he’s wearing it. Y/N deduces it’s just Yoongi ruining fashion because he 24/7 looks like an asshole.

“What, are you just gonna stare at me?”

Yoongi’s voice brings Y/N back to her purpose. “No, I’m here to tell you, you forgot to do your job—Nancy wants her USB for JM Restaurant Group right now.”

“Well, I don’t have it, sweetheart. Work hours are already over so practically, I’m in no responsibility to do whatever the fuck Nancy wants,” the man quips back, smiling.

Y/N cannot help but snap. “Why are you even here in Rockfort, then? You didn’t turn up for work and now you’re just casually strolling in front of our building. You didn’t take home at least a quarter of our tasks and dumped everything on my shoulders like an irresponsible, signature free-loader high school groupmate. And now you think it’s okay to tell me ‘sorry, I don’t have the USB’ when I told you yesterday to bring it today?! I cannot believe what an asshole you can be, Yoongi.”

Yoongi raises a hand. “Okay, chill, tiger. To answer your question, I am here because my friends and I hung out at a bar near here. Not that you will understand, of course, considering your whole life revolves around work, work, and work. Ooh, and Nancy,” Yoongi grins. “How can I forget you idolize Nancy? Actually no, you worship her.”

Y/N’s face falls into an indignant scowl, “I do NOT worship Nancy! I respect her. Which you also should do because she employed you, not the other way around. Also, I have friends! Mina is my friend!”

“Correction, Mina is your only friend at work. And she happened to be your flatmate and college buddy first before you both had luck to also be co-workers. So no, your friendship with Mina is out of the equation.”

Y/N opens her mouth to tell him Mina cannot be out of the equation when Yoongi beats her, “And second, how could I be a free-loader? A leave is a leave. Our job description did not say we should also take work home. You are the only one who does that because you’re paranoid. So don’t impose your so-called work ethic, that is actually masked obsession, to me because I am a mentally healthy person. I don’t want to have a stick in my ass like you do.”

Y/N steps closer to Yoongi, making the latter cock a brow at her. “I’m not paranoid, Min. It’s you who is the problem. You don’t take this job seriously. You don’t take on responsibilities like a mature adult. You think you’re so great just because no one told you you suck at something when you were a kid. Well, let me tell you now. You suck at plain human decency, something that should be innate in every people. You’re so high up your ass you think you can just do anything and get away with it and you–”

“If you’re just going to insult me, can you do that tomorrow? My food is getting cold.”

Oh no. Nancy’s USB. Y/N closes her eyes and releases a long sigh. She thinks her eyes already did a 360 by the time she managed to fix her composure. She looks up at the man in front of her, currently giving her an amused look. Y/N’s voice cracks as she says, “Yoongi…This is the only time I will ask a favor from you. Please help me with Nancy’s USB. I just want to end this night and go home peacefully without her chewing my head off further more. So please, please, please, can you just help me for once?”

“Hmm,” Yoongi scratches his chin, “let me think about it first.”

“Yoongi, please!”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grimaces, “considering you practically begged to me for dear life, I, as a human with pure soul will help you out despite all the shits you said to me—”

“Just help me out!”

Yoongi slaps your reaching hands, “Stop, I’m not yet done with my speech. Anyway, considering this as a favor, not a request, I expect a return of favor, too.”

“Sure, fine, anything!”

“Okay, I think I may or may not have slipped in Nancy’s USB in my bag,” Yoongi breathes out as he reaches for his black satchel. “Oh yeah, I totally have it,” he says, flashing the orange 32 GB USB in front of you.

What the fuck. All this time-!

“Why didn’t you tell me you already have the USB?!”

Yoongi nearly guffaws, “Didn’t I tell you a “leave” is a leave? Wait, oh my god, you should see yourself, sweetheart. You’re about to pop a vein.”

“Min Yoongi, I fucking hate you!” Y/N snatches the USB from Yoongi’s hand and stomps back to the direction of the Rockfort Building. The man doesn’t seem to go on his own way though because Y/N hears him holler “Same sentiment too, Y/N!”

Y/N doesn’t turn back. She just raises a middle finger up that she’s sure Yoongi will not miss. And he did not, for the man’s faint chuckles only continued.

The travel back up to the 12th floor seems like the longest elevator ride Y/N has ever been on. Every additional second into the constricted metal box feels like a one-second deduction from her own lifetime. So when the elevator doors open to Travel Loca’s floor, the air is immediately knocked off Y/N lungs. But not because of relief. Nancy stands in front of her, bags in hand, and obviously upset.

Y/N quickly steps out of the lift. “Nancy, here! The USB!”

“You took too long. Just e-mail them to me. I have to cram-reading them in the morning anyway because a certain someone forgot to do their job.” Nancy brushes by her shoulder and steps into the elevator. “You know, Y/N, if I’m paying you to make my life easier for me and instead, you’re making it harder, your position in this company is useless.” Nancy presses the button for the parking lot. The doors close in front of Y/N, letting her see the disappointment on Nancy’s face for the last second of the night.

Y/N goes home twenty minutes later, worn out, and ready to sleep the second she reaches her floor. But when she opens the door, Mina’s smiling face greets her, and she immediately rushes to the sofa next to her bestfriend.

“Mina, oh my god, I have so much to tell you.”

“Me, too!” Mina giggles, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s arms, “Can I go first though?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Y/N smiles, fixing her seat.

“Well, remember last week when I told you I finally confessed to Mark?”

“Mark, as in, the café barista Mark Tuan?”

Mina jokingly hits Y/N’s arm, “Yes, what Mark would I be talking about?”

“Sorry, you know how I get so spaced out when I’m tired and groggy. Anyway, what happened?”

“Well, Mark finally said yes!” Mina bursts into a wide grin, arms outstretched in joy. “I finally get to date Mark!”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you, Nana,” Y/N engulfs Mina into an embrace, “I can’t believe you’re finally in a relationship! I mean, who would not want to date you? You’re smart, pretty, and funny. The boys have missed out on you for seven long years. And now, there’s finally someone who has eyes and can see what a gem you are. And damn right, Mark would see that. It’s not every day he can have a gorgeous girl court him for six months after getting rejected twice.”

“Oh my god, stop bringing that up!” Mina playfully slaps her back and Y/N chortles.

“Okay, okay, I’m just joking. What I really mean is: Mark is a lucky guy. I’m glad he finally realized what an idiot he will be if he rejects you again for the third time when you’ve been with him through all his problems. He won’t find another beautiful girl willing to ride his motorcycle with him in a huge-ass dress just to help him deliver orders in time. You’re the total package Mina and I’m so happy Mark has realized it.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re making me blush,” Mina laughs. She sways the both of them in their hug, “Mark has an impossibly high standard to meet now because of you.”

“Mark doesn’t have to meet any standards,” Y/N snickers, “You already drool at his face the moment we enter The Daily Bean.”

Mina detaches herself from Y/N and dramatically places a hand over her chest. “How can you remember that so well and not who Mark is?”

Y/N shrugs, “Because I’m not staring at Mark and eye-fucking him 24/7.”

“Oh my god, I do not!” Mina giggles, making you laugh again as she hugs you tight once more. Mina’s fingers card through your hair as she murmurs “But you do know, Y/N, even if I’m in a relationship now, I’m not gonna leave you alone. Even if Mark will start to occupy the top priority in my life, it doesn’t mean you will lose your spot in the top-pest part of my list. You know you’re still and will forever be my number one, right?” Y/N hums at that, closing her eyes from the head massage Mina is currently giving her. She feels Mina nod, “Right, you should because you’re practically my baby.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Who would wash the red stain on your pants and underpants in the girl’s CR while you prance around the cubicle only in a top because you bled through your bottoms during your period, much more, on our Christmas Party, other than me?”

Y/N grimaces, “Oh god, you didn’t have to bring that up.”

“You hit right through me when you said I eye-fuck Mark so yeah, eye for an eye, bitch,” Mina cackles as she finally unlatches her arms around her friend. “Anyway, I’m finished with my story of the day. Your turn. What happened tonight?”

Y/N bites her lip, unconsciously easing an inch between her and her bestfriend. Mina is in a good mood today. Y/N doesn’t want to ruin it by ranting off about how horrible Yoongi is again. She knows Mina. She will listen to her rant about another bullshit done by her co-PA and she will also indulge in an insult-fest against the man. That’s just their dynamic: Y/N’s enemy is Mina’s enemy and vice versa. So as Y/N looks at Mina’s smile which doesn’t do much covering up her dark eyes, which have grown from staying up late to wait for her to come home for multiple nights on end, Y/N decides it’s enough negativity for the day.

“It’s nothing, Mina,” Y/N shakes her head, forcing a smile on her face, “just another tiring day from work.”

Mina tilts her head, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Y/N flashes her another smile as she heads for her room, “I’m totally fine. Just tired. Congratulations to you and Mark again.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Mina replies, but the look on her face tells Y/N she’s unconvinced of what she said. Seemingly aware that her friend needed space, Mina turns back the TV. Before Y/N closes her door, she hears Mina chuckle to a punch-line in the airing sitcom.

Y/N flops on her bed face down. If Yoongi didn’t put much of a fight and just handed her Nancy’s USB when he knew he already had it, then maybe this night won’t be so horrible. Y/N would have given Nancy her USB in time, and her boss could have acknowledged it as a peace offering to her unremarkable work performance that day. Y/N would have totally rejoiced with Mina with her full heart into it and not force a smile on her face when such an announcement deserves much more celebration.

Y/N releases a stifled scream into her pillow. Thursdays are really the worst and it’s all Min Yoongi’s fault.

However, what Y/N didn’t expect is that the following week will get much worse. The Writing Department is late in their deadline, causing the online publication of the September issue to be pushed in the first week of October, a big deal late to the releases of their magazine competitors. Thus, Nancy became more pissy and naggy, giving Y/N a cold shoulder for the longest streak in her work life. Nancy became more frigid when Y/N failed to get Nancy the copy of the unpublished sequel of Bird and Foe. Y/N tried her best, she really did. It’s just that the publishers of Russell Park refused to give another copy because they said they cannot give out two unpublished copies at the same time. Of course, this turned out as a lazy excuse to Nancy, making her dump additional workload on Y/N’s already staggering pile. But that was not what made Y/N’s last week of September the worst week she’s ever had. It was Min Yoongi getting promoted as a staff member to the Creatives Team after giving Nancy the unpublished Bird and Foe sequel.

Ringing phones, staff members running to- and fro- the beige faux wood office floor, and the occasional requests for coffee from the break room–Travel Loca is buzzing with life as usual. But not for long though, because the clock hands are currently on 12:49 P.M. At 12:57, it seems everyone on the floor have gone silent. Almost everyone taps their foot against the floor. All eyes were set on the digital wall clock. Some have even glanced on their own wristwatches to check if the wall clock was right. The hands start to move. Everyone gulps.

The hands hit one o’clock. Everyone scrambles off their swivel chairs. Some have bee-lined for the break room. Meanwhile, a huge mass had created a bottle-neck of office workers at Travel Loca’s main door. No one is left on the staff chairs, except for one: Mina Young.

The accountant slides her swivel chair to the left. Her hands meander through her large file cases and when she feels a cold, ribbed metal surface on her index, she smiles. Mina pushes the on-button and immediately, the then-silent office space has now become a replica of her own flat.

“Good morning everyone! Today seems an extra sweet day than yesterday because you know what? I can smell and see the sweet aroma of those dark, chewy chocolates and those pretty pink balloons surrounding our streets. That’s right folks, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner! Which also means–drumroll for me, Alexa–Holidays are about to sweep in! It’s just three weeks to go, folks, note that! So, for our dear, sweet listeners, I hope you already got your hotels booked and your plane tickets ready so you can finally have that amazing buffet, relaxing spa, or a fun tour around places you’ve never been with your very lovable significant others! I’m sure all of you will have that wonderful, exciting, and pleasurable rendezvous away from school, work, and any responsibilities. Just make sure to channel in on our station if you want the best playlist to get you in the mood for some steamy, passionate, and intimate time–”

“Mina, will you turn off that radio?”

The short-haired brunette frowns at her friend, whose also frowning at her. Mina pushes up her glasses on her nose, “Why? You know I always listen to this station during break time. Plus, Nancy is not here.”

“Still, it doesn’t excuse how irritating that DJ sounds.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plops herself on another swivel chair. “His voice sounds like there are two styrofoams gyrating each other in a sweaty club.”

Mina’s jaw drops as she turns off her portable mini-radio on her desk. She faces Y/N with a frown this time—actually a scowl now. “Kim Seokjin’s voice is like creamy velvet to the ears! Also,” she scrunches her nose in disgust, “you did not just sexualize non-living objects so casually as if you’re not aware that the mental image you’re painting is so disturbing.”

“First off,” Y/N turns to her, swivel chair squeaking in her abrupt movement, “you’re already seeing Mark Tuan for you to have any weird fantasies about Kim Seokjin and his voice or how cute his laugh is when it literally sounds like he’s an old man dying on a choked-out old joke. And second, sexualizing objects is not illegal by law and even if it so, I did NOT sexualize them. They are just the perfect representation of how Seokjin’s voice sounds.”

Mina purses her lips and props her elbow on her desk to cup her face. “Cut to the point, Y/N. Just tell me what is with you today. You barged in furious in here for no reason, threw a fit at the break room, and now you’re ruining lunch by insulting Seokjin for something so trivial.”

“Trivial?! His voice is fucking irritating! Just because he’s handsome does not mean his voice will also sound good on the radio. It’s like listening to a whale dying while making mating calls–”

“The point, Y/N?” Mina cuts you with an unamused look.

You deflate in your seat. “Fine, it’s Min Yoongi. He made it a point that he is more intelligent and capable than me in our 10 AM meeting with Nancy for this month’s spread. Said he knows more about weird facts and trivia about Sweden because I never got to travel outside this fucking country when I damn well know he only uses some advanced search engine to look for info like the computer whiz that he is! I went so many times on his Facebook to know he posts nothing in his wall but his work achievements—and his dog! Of course, if you went outside the country, you will post pictures in your wall, ‘cus social media sites are just platforms masked as an outlet for free expression when we damn well know it’s just a place where you can brag and be not called out for being arrogant. And damn hell, Min Yoongi does not have any out-of-the-country pictures posted there. What only comes close is his picture of that gumbo he said he made—yeah, quotation marks—because it looks too good to be made by his ugly crooked hands and even if it’s got this aesthetic background not expected to come from this fucking country, I still think he just photoshopped it.” Y/N crosses her arms, “Bet that gumbo did not even taste good.”

Mina scrunches her forehead, “Are you the only flawed person Min Yoongi sees? Why does he always have to nitpick every single bit of your work? He just criticized your last week’s report because of your ‘poor articulation.’”

“Right?!” Y/N leans back on her chair. She groans, “I still remember how he sabotaged my files for Nancy’s professional and personal events. Who in their right mind would change the contact names to mythical creatures? Rica’s 2nd baby shower was named ‘Merlin’s Demon Baby’s Party?’ It’s a baby event for God’s sake!” Y/N looks at her friend, “I swear Mina, one day I will get a brain hemorrhage because of Yoongi’s shits.”

Mina winces, “Please don’t. I don’t want to be the one to tell your mother you already died before you even managed to pay your housing loans.”

“Hey! Don’t attack me like that,” Y/N slaps the back of her friend’s chair. Mina, choking on her spit first, erupts into a fit of giggles.

Unfortunately, it seems lunch’s fun will be cut short as Y/N hears Nancy’s megaphone’s speaker start up, “Calling for Y/N to come into my office. A.S.A.P!”

Y/N scrambles from her seat as Mina sees her off with a sad wave. Pushing through Nancy’s glass door, Y/N could see the lines of ridges forming on Nancy’s forehead before the latter can even eye her.

“Y-yes, Ma’am? You called for me?”

Nancy pins her a look, “You’re asking me if I called you? Are you deaf? Did you not understand what I said?”

“Yes!—I-I mean on the understanding part, yes, not about being deaf or something hehe-“

“Y/N,” Nancy clasps her hands on her table, “I called you here because I have something important to tell you.”

Y/N nears her table, pulling up her notebook and pen.

“I need you to work in the Creatives Department for the next two weeks.”

Y/N’s fingers freeze. She looks up at Nancy with eyes as wide as a goldfish. And before she can brain-filter out her words, they’ve already escaped her mouth. “What do you mean I have to be in the Creatives next week? I’m your personal assistant, not Min Yoongi’s!”

“Y/N, I didn’t say you will work for Yoongi. He’s not the head of the Creatives. Steven Spielberg is,” Nancy gives the girl an unamused look, waving her off from her desk. Y/N bites her lip as she takes two steps backward. She didn’t know she’s rushed up too close to Nancy’s table just at the prospect of Yoongi and her working together came from her boss’ lips.

Nancy leans back on her chair, “I know you two have this petty children-in-the-playground fights ever since the start of October last year. I get that your differences are too great to be bridged anytime soon, thus the reason why I grew tired telling you to stop doing your cat and dog thing because I know you two wouldn’t listen anyway. You two just like to bang heads whenever you like—”

“But, it’s Yoongi’s fault-”

Nancy raises a finger, “But, Y/N, this is really important. I will be out-of-the-country for the next three weeks for both some business and family matters. Hence, why I cannot bring you with me as usual. And why I will need you to work under Steven for the meantime: to report to me about any of their progress. The Creatives’ current designs will have us late into this month’s deadline and I do not want this business going down anytime soon because of a weak holiday cover. So, as my PA, you will report everything about their progress to me, and you will report my feedback to them. At the same time, you will tame your childish fights with Yoongi to a minimum so Travel Loca will function as well as it can be while I’m not physically here. Understand?”

Y/N nods, “understand, Ma’am.” She doesn’t have a choice even if she wanted to object. Whatever Nancy dictated is already set in stone.

“Also,” Nancy looks at Y/N, “since I will be off the next three weeks, my schedules for the weeks in my absence will be pushed and packed on the following week. So, I expect you to still work on your station—and work even harder after I came back. Understand?”

More workload? Y/N internally groans. She doesn’t like work getting reduced early into the week then doubling into hell in the latter part of the month. She likes them evened out—everything is balanced, familiar, and predictable. Nevertheless, Y/N only nods, “yes.” “No” doesn’t exist in Nancy’s dictionary.

Nancy returns to her laptop and waves her off, “Okay. Then, capiche.”

“Yes, ma’am, capiche,” Y/N makes a quick bow and scampers out of her boss’ office.

When Y/N reaches her station, she sinks herself into the cushion of her seat. First, Min Yoongi belittles her researching ability in the morning meeting. Then now, she will work with him for the majority of three weeks. After that, another hell will start because of Nancy’s incoming packed schedules.

Y/N’s eyes land on her laptop and she immediately sees her calendar. January 16, 2020. Thursday. Y/N releases an inhumane groan. Of course, the goddamn Thursday curse. When will she ever live?

“When will I ever die?” Y/N sobs into Mina’s shirt. Her friend keeps her arms around her tight as she cards through her hair.

“Hey, don’t think so negative,” Mina coos, “Think of this as an opportunity to finally have Nancy off your back.”

“Yeah, as if working with Min Yoongi is better than that. He already ruins my life when we only physically encounter each other in meetings and breaks and lunches. Imagine working with him for a whole fucking day!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I take that back,” Mina hugs her friend tighter.

Y/N continues, “And after enduring all that, my workload will quadruple when Nancy comes back after three weeks! I already experienced this during her daughter’s debut last year. When Nancy said a pile of work will come, it fucking means four metal file cases of work. I spent the last two weeks of August plunging myself into an abyss of papers. I did not sleep for two weeks straight! And now— I will have three weeks-worth of hell work to come after spending three weeks working with the personification of Satan. Can the world just eat me up?!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Mina pulls away to hold her bestfriend at arms-length, “What did you say will happen in three weeks?”

Y/N closes her eyes, “Another hell will come because a shit-pile of work is coming in three weeks! Mina, I’ve been telling you this since morning-”

“Y/N, after three weeks, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Y/N’s eyes immediately shoot open, “What?”

“Look,” Mina clicks on her phone and flashes Y/N her calendar app. “Today’s January 17. Exactly after three weeks is the Valentine’s week.”

Y/N’s jaw drops ajar, “Oh my god.”

“Yes, Y/N, oh my God. It’s the fucking Heart Holiday.”

“…The country’s long-time problem with their low birth rate has driven the government to build another department that will help its citizens build, manage, and maintain healthy relationships. The Department of Relationship Management was established in 2015, and ever since then, there have been impressive developments in our country’s birth rate. One of the best programs of DRM behind this wonderful growth is the Heart Holiday, the holiday held in the week of Valentine’s Day. It grants any person employed in a private sector one week of paid holiday vacation leave as long as they are currently in a relationship. Meanwhile, education establishments and students are given one week off their academic calendars without regard to their relationship status. Isn’t that sweet? The only downside to that, folks, is that government employees can only have two days of paid holiday leave on the 14th and 15th. But, still, a holiday is still a holiday! So for our lovely listeners, start planning your vacation trips and hangouts! Especially when Cloud 10 Airlines is there to make your holiday week even sweeter with their 70% discount on local trips! Just contact 675-9859 and 568-987—”

“Mina, can you turn off the radio?!”

“Again?!” Mina heaves, “What’s with your aggravation streak these days against Kim Seokjin’s voice?”

“It rattles me,” Y/N half-screams, plopping into the swivel chair next to her friend’s cubicle. “Yesterday, he already announced that goddamn timeline of the DRM and ‘all hailed’ importance of the Heart Holiday. Why does he have to repeat it again today? In that overly-enthusiastic voice, too, as if he’s never read of that script again and again?!”

“Y/N, it’s how broadcasting works. It’s one of the most awaited holidays in the year, so of course, they will nab as many advertisement deals as they can.”

“Well, I don’t like how they work!”

“You cannot just tell a radio company to stop working,” Mina turns in her chair to face her friend, “Also, stop venting your frustration on Seokjin. He doesn’t even know you hate his voice. Routinely doing this noise pollution doesn’t do anything at all. Just tell me what made you upset today.”

“It’s Yoongi!” Y/N scowls. “He won’t explain to me the technical editing terms on Steven’s report for Nancy! He said a five grader can even know what they are. I went through fifth grade, Mina, and I did not freaking know about any photoshop shit!”

“Well, that’s because you’re old.”

Mina looks up and sees Yoongi hovering her cubicle.

Y/N’s scowl deepens, as she turns her chair to the direction of the intruder. “As if you’re any much younger. From what I know, you’re four years older than me, dumbass.”

“Well, at least I know what Steven is talking about,” Yoongi props his chin on Mina’s cubicle.

Y/n rolls her eyes, “Because it’s your freaking line of work! Of course, you’ll know about it!”

“Well, you’re now working most of the time in the Creatives Team and you don’t know it. What does that make you, then? I’ll give you a hint: It’s what you called me three seconds ago. Starts with the letter ‘d’ and ends with the letter ‘s.’”

“What? You think you’re so smart now just because you know that vector-mask-thingy?! News flash, Yoongi, you did not graduate with any Latin honor. I did! So, who’s the real dumbass?!”

“You damn well know Latin honors doesn’t actually have any effect on real life. Practical knowledge has—especially knowledge about terminologies used in digital designing. Which you need because you won’t be able to report anything to your god Nancy. Because, well: You. Don’t. Know. Anything. Like. Always.”

“Min Yoongi, fuck you–”

“Guys, guys, guys, can you stop?”

Y/N gives Yoongi another glare before fixing herself back in her seat. Mina puffs, “Yoongi, can you leave us alone for a while? We’re talking here and you just invited yourself in our conversation.”

Yoongi chides, “Well, tell your friend that if she wants to shit-talk a person just a meter away from her without the said person barging in the conversation, she should keep her voice on the down-low. Not screaming around like a crazy ape.”

Y/N’s jaw drops open, “What crazy ape?! You’re the crazy ape! You look like a fucking gorilla who accidentally get dwarfed by a tooth fairy and-”

“Min Yoongi, just leave us alone,” Mina gives the man a pointed look.

Yoongi shrugs and detaches himself from her cubicle. He heads back to their office but he doesn’t completely leave the room without giving Y/N a middle finger.

Y/N’s mouth drops open in disbelief. She turns to Mina. “See? Isn’t it obvious he just wants to make me the bad man to Nancy again? What kind of person are you to not cooperate with your co-worker like a goddamn adult? I don’t get why no one sees this bitch’s true face but you and me! I just want to freaking tear off his face, make him wipe it in his ass, then place it back on his head since he’s such a literal ass—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mina clasps a hand over your shoulder, “don’t get too homicidal. What you just said, aside from disturbing, is very disgusting.”

Y/N slumps in her seat and crosses her arms.

Mina sighs. “Okay, yeah, I know, Min Yoongi is the worst. But I don’t want you to do anything stupid so let’s not talk about him for a while, ‘kay?” Y/N nods. Mina leans back in her seat with the nth sigh for the day. “Okay, I got some update from Jaehyun.”

Y/N leans forward. “What did he say?”

Mina gives you a sad smile, “He already has a fiancé.”

“So soon?” Y/N scoffs. “He was just courting me two months ago.”

“Yeah, well he’s getting married this week. Whatever,” Mina waves off, “I don’t like him for you anyway. He dresses like a college fuckboy.”

“Okay, what about Dahyun?”

“Already married.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “and she didn’t tell us?”

“Yeah, I already nagged her on the phone. She said it all kinda happened too fast–her and Sana. And the marriage was in New York. We’re too broke for out-of-the-country trips to attend anyway if we were informed.” Mina smiles, “She said she’s gonna invite us to the Christening of their baby.”

“Okay, I’m glad she still cared about us. Oh,” Y/N pipes up, “what did Jackson say over the phone?”

Mina gives you a tight smile. “Getting married, too. And guess what, the invitations were already in our mail box when I went to get our bills.”

“Momo?”

“Engaged. She and Heechul just broke out the news a week ago.”

“Sam?”

“Married. And 4 months pregnant.”

“Jongdae?”

“Engaged. Also has a baby in way.”

“Hana?”

“Engaged.”

“Changmin?”

“Engaged.”

“Jaebum?

“Engaaaaaged.”

Y/N throws her hands in the air, “Why is everyone getting married?!”

“Well, we’re in our late 20s. It’s the “marrying age” they say. It got more enphasized when DRM’s programs had succeeded in encouraging hundreds of people to marry in the recent year. Even my mom already expects Mark to propose by next month. We’re just dating for 6 months!” Mina cringes. She pulls Y/N’s chair closer to her to hold her hands. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. It kinda slipped my mind that we always apply together for the Heart Holiday every year. It’s just that Mark and I—”

“Hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. You’ve been pining after Mark for about two years and now look at you—together, stable, and in-love half into the year! I don’t want you to fret having a relationship with the boy you liked for so long.”

“Yeah, Y/N, I know,” Mina closes her eyes. “It’s just sad and unfortunate everyone we know are already in relationships.”

“Yeah…” Y/N nods and the two fall into silence. Why is everyone conveniently in a relationship just in time with the Heart Holiday? What, the whole world suddenly knew the loophole in DRM’s program? Y/N and Mina studied that for a whole year! This is unfair. Y/N cannot be the only single person out there who’ll miserably work in the office while everyone gets to have the time of their lives—wait.

Y/N grabs Mina’s hands. “Hey, Nana, I know we said co-workers are off-limits because Nancy will definitely know it’s a ruse. She’ll block my application form before it can even have the seal from the HR. Especially when she found out our lesbian “relationship” was fake after you and Mark updated your civil statuses.” Mina winces and opens her mouth to apologize again but Y/N cuts her with a finger to her mouth. “Nancy will definitely call me a liar and grill my head if she finds out what we’re planning to do now. But look, Nancy’s out of the country. Teddy is the general supervisor and she’s the next in the hierarchy. We damn well know her 45-year-old heart is soft for some nicely-woven romantic story. Even more, in an office setting—the bane of every middle-aged woman’s sappy romantic heart. So, what do you say?”

Mina lets out an exasperated breath, “That crossed my mind, too, you know. But, Y/N, the thing is—the whole Accounting Department is in a relationship. And the same goes for the Writing, Marketing, Logistics, and HR. All of them are either in a relationship, married, or getting married.”

“What?” Y/N’s eyebrows curve up high, “How come I didn’t know this?”

“Uh, because you’re busy working for Nancy day-in and day-out? Also, I just happen to be friends with Jisoo from HR. She’s in charge of the company’s relationship records. Sometimes, she slips in everyone’s stories while we listen to WWL Radio during break time.”

Y/N bites her lip. This can’t be happening to her. Not now. Not when the most un-objectifiable reason for a break from Nancy is about to slip through her fingers like fine sand.

Mina scratches her nape, “I…may have someone in mind though.”

Y/N’s eyes look straight into Mina’s. “Tell me.”

“Well, the entire Creatives Department is either married or engaged save for one.”

Y/N holds Mina’s hands tighter. “Who?”

“Min, Yoongi.”

Y/N must be going crazy. She thinks she must be growing a nest of vultures in her brain now, the mother routinely picking on her numerous dead brain cells to feed to her young. It doesn’t help that the bags under her eyes have started to droop like a waterfall, forming a sad saddle of grey on her cheeks. She cannot even remember the last time she had a decent meal. All she remembers is the finger foods Mina hands to her station every once in a while.

The universe is being unfair to her and it is all taking a toll on her body. They weren’t kidding when they said adjusting to a new environment is an entire whole work in itself. The Creatives Team runs a completely different routine. Large monitors crammed with multiple editing softwares Y/N cannot understand surround the studio-size office space. There are drafted papers and previous issues scattered in every possible corner, some even gathering dust by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Y/N is not even sure if anyone has re-arranged their desks in the last few months. The Creatives’ work ethic is loosely bound on schedules and everyone seems to be doing everyone else’s job. Except for Y/N, because Steven is the only one willing to share their team’s progress to her. But that alone is not enough for her daily report to Nancy because Steven is always busy in his computer. More unfortunately, everyone is wary of her. Y/N’s sure she even saw Kim Myungsoo clutch their design folders closer to his chest when her eyes glanced at his cubicle.

Sure, Y/N expected everyone will have their guards up on her. Who wouldn’t be when they know Nancy still has eyes on them even if she’s countries away? But still, it doesn’t lessen the pain on Y/N’s self-esteem and the stress on her back. If Y/N can’t get someone to talk to her, she won’t be able to provide a more substantial report to Nancy more than just reading Steven’s printed reports verbatim.

Y/N is desperate to find a workmate to discuss everything happening in the Creatives with her, but unluckily for her, she only has someone she wishes to not even breathe the same air with. Of course, no one in the Creatives wants to talk to her except for Min Yoongi. He’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t know when to shut up. He welcomes Y/N every single day with an annoying “Yo, Y/N” and an unneeded commentary about her outfit, like how yesterday he told her “I know retro is in but I didn’t know grandma blouses are deemed stylish again.” He blabbers about his unnecessarily extensive general knowledge about every South Asian country, even if Y/N countlessly told him she didn’t care. He brags about the cover designs and templates he did in the previous issues, flipping the pages too close in Y/N’s face while he speaks about colors and mixing like Y/N is an imbecile about basic color combinations high school students used in their PowerPoint presentations. Yet despite them all, Yoongi still refuses to explain to her the jargon in Steven’s reports.

Y/N tried her best to keep herself from bursting and giving Yoongi an earful of sense. Yes, everyone knows she does not like Yoongi but Y/N doesn’t want them to know to what extent she can go to express them, afraid of embarrassing herself. But in her defense, three days into the first week without Nancy, Yoongi has gone as far as to chip a small bit off Y/N’s mug in the break room. The mug with the “creative juices” in cursive printed around its body—Mina’s gift from college. Y/N’s patience meter was blasted off the roof. It will be safe to tell that at the end of the day, Y/N has screamed the hell out of Yoongi that everyone can be sure the latter’s ears may have fallen out of his head. Steven was close to reporting to Teddy what just happened. It was just Y/N’s remaining luck that helped her successfully and implicitly begged Steven not to do so by telling him calling Yoongi “a mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk who should eat his shit because people are what they eat and he is obviously the biggest shit in her life,” is just her “unique” way of expressing co-worker appreciation to the man.

Aside from putting up with Yoongi’s Satanic attitude, Y/N has to endure Nancy’s intermittent calls with her forever pissed voice coming in first thing in the morning until in the late, ungodly hours. And despite Teddy’s patient guidance over Y/N’s “transition” to the Creatives Team, Y/N’s still close to digging a six-feet deep hole in her station. No, not because of Teddy or Nancy. It’s because she poured her remaining effort dedicated for work by spending the entire week going through every staff member of Travel Loca. Y/N thought Mina must have overlooked a face. That it’s possible Jisoo skipped on a detail she told to her friend. But despite learning Lee Minyoung from the Writing Department is going to call it quits to her boyfriend just after Valentine’s, or how Michael Park from Marketing is about to pop the ring to his girlfriend just right on Valentine’s Day, the looming fact Y/N dreads presents itself on January 24, two weeks before Valentine’s: No one else in the office is single but her…and Min Yoongi.

Of course, it didn’t surprise Y/N, Yoongi must be single. With that know-it-all façade and condescending tone wearing you out like a 24/7 walking instruction manual no one even asked for, who would even like to date him? One week with him as a co-worker alone already makes Y/N want to throw herself into the flaming hot pit of the nearest volcano.

But it’s only two more weeks before Valentine’s and Y/N is desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures. Y/N did a last-minute check-up on her and Mina’s lists of contacts—phone, social media, e-mails, everything under the sun—only to come up with nothing. Mina’s “marrying age” theory must be true because everyone, every single one, of their acquaintances are already married or getting married. Y/N then changed up her game. She started to opt for resources she never thought she will ever use in her life: dating apps. Tinder, Bumble, The League, Grindr—name it, Y/N had made every account for every conceivable dating site. She even spent the most of her break time this week hiding her phone beneath her desk and swiping right. But even this last considerable option proved to be pointless as all the replies she received are either honest “sorry, not interested,” rude “you’re no fun,” or out-right salacious “suck my dick.”

This then left Y/N no choice but to consider the most unspeakably horrendously unfortunate option she didn’t even want to have. Min Yoongi is her only choice left. And for that, Y/N spent two days making an elaborate plan. She can’t afford any loose threads or plan-holes that can further make her at the mercy of the infuriating jerk. However, even if she made everything as seamless as it can be, Y/N knows it will be the worst decision she’ll ever make in her life. Mina also expressed the same concern, even apologized for planting that small information about Yoongi in her friend’s mind. But even her friend’s day-by-day discouragement to push through with her plan is not enough to deter Y/N.

Because even if just thinking about the plan makes Y/N feel the world is about to crumble and swallow her down in its unending, fathomless depths; even if it makes her want to set up an appointment with an exorcist, Y/N knew she won’t back out. It’s not viruses or bacteria, it’s a seeded idea that is the most contagious living entity that can take hold of any human being. And the moment Y/N realized there’s no other ticket way out of her dilemma but Yoongi, she knew this thought will haunt her for nights on end.

This is the reason why Y/N’s currently standing by the corner of the Creatives’ office when it’s already 6:46 P.M. while almost everyone has left the office. Almost, because Yoongi, apart from her, is the only one left in the office as Steven requested him to finish a color palette by tonight. Y/N gulps a thick blob of saliva. Sweat runs thick on her forehead. God, if Mina could see what Y/N’s about to do, she will be already by her side, yelling for her to just give up. Y/N shakes her head. This is Mina’s fault anyway. If she didn’t plant the idea in her head, she wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t be creeping behind a door like a disgusting stalker. She wouldn’t be profusely sweating in an air-conditioned room like a guilty murderer. She wouldn’t be-

“What the hell are you doing behind the door?”

Y/N shrieks and jumps a half-foot away from her spot.

“The hell—what’s gotten into you?!” Yoongi frowns, “And why are you even here?”

Y/N’s brows meet together in her forehead. But before she can speak, Yoongi’s snickers drown out the words in her throat.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’ve come as far as spying on my work. I didn’t know you’re going to be this petty,” Yoongi sighs and puts his hand on his waist, “Well, if you think going through my work laptop will get you to understand Steven’s report, I’m sorry to say you won’t get anything, little girl.”

Yes, it’s true. The words did die out in Y/N’s throat. It’s just flames of anger sweeping in the valleys of her mouth. Y/N surges forward, fists clenched tight, “‘Little girl’? I am not a fucking little girl!”

Yoongi grins, “Then what should I call someone who’s a foot smaller than me?”

“What fucking ‘foot’?! We’re just inches apart! Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror? You’re not even that tall!”

“Says the one who’s looking up at me just to level her eyes with mine,” Yoongi raises his brows, “and who’s now standing a little too close to me because apparently, standing a socially-decent foot away won’t enable her to see my face.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she immediately takes a step back. She doesn’t get how easy it is for Yoongi to rile her up that she instantly forgets how to control her body. When she looks up at him, the man is smirking at her. Her mouth aches to tell him he actually looks stupid with that lopsided smile if he thought doing it will make him a tad bit inch sorry excuse of “sexy.” But then, Y/N remembers she has a purpose tonight. She didn’t just waste an hour waiting in the excruciating office space of the Creatives Team just to get nothing done.

Y/N closes her eyes and breathes out. When she opens them again, she looks at Yoongi in the eyes. “I’m not here to fight with you, Yoongi. I’m here to make an offer.”

Yoongi scoffs, “An offer? You? Are you hearing yourself right now? In case you weren’t informed, I don’t need anything from you. And I didn’t—”

“You’re single right?”

Yoongi gawks at her, “W-what?”

“Well, I’m single, too. And Valentine’s week is coming in two weeks.”

“So?”

Y/N tries not to grit her teeth, “So, that means the Heart Holiday is also coming. Nancy is bound to come back during that time, too, with an obvious incoming large workload to come for me. I can’t afford to hole myself up in this office while everyone gets to enjoy a paid holiday week. And since you have an affinity for disliking your job, I figured you also wouldn’t want to go to work during Valentine’s week.” Y/N crosses her arms, “So I’m here, Min Yoongi, to give you an offer: Fake date me for two weeks to make it to DRM’s PRS’ application deadline. When our application gets approved, we part ways and never speak about what happened in these two weeks. It’s a win-win situation. I don’t get to work during Valentine’s. You also don’t get to work, and we both will still get paid. So, what do you say?”

Yoongi just stares at her. Y/N could feel cold sweat running from her scalp and down to her back. Why is he looking at her like that? Why is he being so silent? Is he about to make fun of her and bring it up to work tomorrow? Oh God, Y/N shouldn’t have even gone through with this plan. This is a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad, idea that should have never been entertained and buried in a trunk of embarrassing memories, never to see the light again—

“I’m in.”

Y/N freezes, “W-what?”

Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N. He leans forward, closing the distance between their faces into mere six inches. Y/N doesn’t need to crane her head up anymore because this time, their eyes are finally leveled with each other.

Yoongi smiles, “I’m telling you, Y/N, I’m in in your plan.”

Y/N looks at him. She just looks at him. Five seconds have already passed. Yoongi should be laughing in her face right now. But the man did not, and takes a step back away from her. He fixes his satchel on his shoulder and closes the Creatives’ glass door behind him shut. When Yoongi looks back at Y/N, he gives her a shrug, “Hey, if you’re not going home, I am.” He heads for the main door, hands dug into his pockets. Y/N’s eyes just follow his figure. Before Yoongi completely gets out of the office, he hollers, a hand cupping over his mouth, “I said I’m already in in your plan. You can go now. See you tomorrow.” He sends Y/N one last smile.

It takes Y/N five more seconds before she breaks her frozen stance. What did just happen? Yoongi didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t put up a fight. He….agreed? Just like that? This is impossible. This cannot happen! Yoongi doesn’t agree, he argues! Always! And he just doesn’t bid her goodbye and “see you tomorrow.” Yoongi annoys her with one last hit of “goodbye, grandma.” And Yoongi doesn’t smile. He smirks. He just pulls up one side of his lips, squints his eyes, and snorts. Y/N must be going crazy. This is not Yoongi! A whole different man has suddenly appeared before her. This cannot be!

But despite all the things going back and forth in her head right now, there’s only one looming thought on top of them all that had Y/N release a staggered breath:

What the fuck did she just get herself into?

next | series masterlist

Disclaimer: This first chapter is based on Netflix’s Set It Up (2018), particularly Nancy’s briefing scene and the USB scene. Netflix’s Set It Up (2018) is the inspiration for this fic and so I based Ms. Nancy’s personality on Lucy Liu’s portrayal of Kirsten Stevens! Ms. Lucy Liu was fantastic in her performance! That being said, all scenes and references from the movie used in this story are the property of its respective owners. The rest belongs to the author. This work is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. Anyways, if you wish to watch the movie, don’t worry about encountering any spoilers in this fic!

A/N pt. 2: Hi hons! I decided to cut this fic into parts as this will be very long (hello banter dialogues). Writing a 25+k wordcount (so far, this is my assumed final wordcount) may overwhelm a lot of readers and make them not want to read this anymore ☹ Anyway, the succeeding parts will be released soon as I already have a detailed storyboard and outline for this mini-series so you don’t have to wait that long. Thank you for giving this fic a chance, hons. Also, feedback is more than appreciated. Tell me what you guys think! ♡♡♡ \(> u

Taglist: @fangirls94 @ditttiii @chogiyeol-utopia

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htownsmash · 4 years

Text

Shiggy Horror AU

Part One: Gragoja Island

Part Two

AN: Hey everybody, thank you for taking the time to check out my second collab fic! This will be seperated in a few parts- this is Part One. If you have Interactive Fic extension, replace MC with your name! 💕

NSFW. Warning: Character Death.

To say that you were a horror fanatic was an overstatement. Sure, you usually liked to indulge in spooky stories, horror movies and even weird conspiracy theories every now and then... but you weren’t obsessed. You just enjoyed them.

So when you dragged Kaminari, Tokoyami, Kirishima, Sero and Shinso along with you to help you win the winning ticket to Gragoja Island, they weren’t surprised at all. After an entire afternoon of binging on the required snacks needed, everyone gave you the tickets they had found and cheered when you won! You were beyond excited! And why wouldn’t you be? You just won a round trip to the spookiest island in the country!

In the end, only Tokoyami and Shinso could go and keep you company. The trip there was chaotic thanks to you, but you only laughed and told them to count themselves lucky they had made it there in one piece. “Come on, guys, this is a one in a lifetime opportunity!” You claimed as you took video of the shoreline. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by the state of the abandoned ruins left behind… Why did people leave? How could such a huge place become abandoned?

“Something tragic must have taken place here; the souls of the unsettled gathered together frozen in time like the buildings that surround that place.” Tokoyami pondered out loud as he leaned against the rails of the ship. “How unfortunate that they have to deal with the living invading their private space for entertainment.”

“I think it’s cool,” Shinso broke the silence with a shrug of his shoulders as he closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the ship rock in the waters. “In a historical kind of way. Maybe it was just population decline or maybe the island couldn’t support them anymore.”

You grinned at Shinso, elbowing him, “of course you’d see it that way.”

“It’s realistic.”

“How long until we get there?” Tokoyami asked, doing his best to mask his excitement.

“Two more hours and then we have to join the first tour.” You answered as you opened your phone. At the top corner you noticed that your phone signal began to weaken the closer you got to the island.

“Is the hotel haunted, too?” Shinso joked, earning a dirty look from both you and Tokoyami.

“- so what we see here is the Shopping District closed down in 1928.” The guide clambered on as your eyes focused on the area they had mentioned. “When the district reopened in 2003 it brought about an economic boom for the island. It became a popular tourist attraction over the next three years until the earthquake of 2007 struck. The city's infrastructure became unstable and again it was closed down the following year.”

You felt a cold draft brush past your neck as your group passed by the end of the district and you did a double take behind you but there was nothing there. Instead you found a doorway slightly ajar and as you grew closer you noticed that it led to a stone staircase. It looked as if it led under the store and down towards a lower section of the district. Before you decided to follow it, Tokoyami tapped your shoulder to catch your attention. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked you, knowing very well what you had been planning to do and you gave him a sheepish grin. “We should get back before we lose the group.”

“Do you think we could come back later and take a look around?” You asked as you followed him back. “I mean, they have to let us have some free time while we’re here.”

“Perhaps they allow the guests to roam around, but don’t you dare think about coming back here. You heard what the guide said.” Tokoyami crossed his arms. “You have no idea what could be down there anyway. It’s not safe.”

You patted his shoulder, hanging off him, “but that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Come on, Fumi, aren’t you curious, too?” You asked him with a slight shake of his shoulders.

He hated to admit that he was, otherwise he never would have joined you on the trip, but there was no way he would allow himself to leave his room after dark. Despite his years of training at U.A. High School, there were moments where Dark Shadow was unpredictable. He shook his head. “You’re not going to convince me so easily.”

The next morning during breakfast you had gathered up with a few strangers at a nearby table. You laughed along with them as you prodded more information about the island and any history that the guide had forgotten or left off. So far your schmoozing had been for nothing and when you saw Shinso enter the dining hall you excused yourself.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked with a yawn as he joined you at their own table, eyeing the menu left on his side.

“I was just being friendly.” You answered absently as you adjusted the settings on your phone, doing your best to test the connection. Two and a half bars. It wasn’t much but it was better than nothing. “Hey, let’s take a selfie.” You suggested, coming up with a thousand excuses or ideas to get him to join your little expedition. If Tokoyami refused to go, you knew Shinso would be your man.

The first night had been uneventful. The most satisfying moment would have been finding out what was at the bottom of the stairs, like an escape room, a mass of tunnels or even a skeleton! Nothing, it had just been a part of a flooded basement. The disappointment alone sent you and Shinso back.

Your luck was going to change! Tonight was going to be different! You could feel it. You turned to Shinso as he crouched behind you, taking a moment to look behind him before you went on ahead.

The window to a nearby shop had been already smashed and carefully you two made your way inside. You took Shinso’s hand as you made sure he wouldn’t hurt himself on the jagged glass. ”It’s pretty dusty in here.” He commented, pinching his nose at the strange smell that surrounded the room. “Do you smell that?”

“Smell what?” You asked curiously, taking a moment to sniff the air around you. “It’s probably mold or something.”

“No…” Shinso tried to place it. “It smells like something decaying.”

You took another sniff but didn’t smell anything. You pulled out your phone and turned on the flashlight. “Could be an animal or maybe dead rats? There were a couple of restaurants here.”

“What are you even looking for?” He asked as he followed behind. He felt uneasy as they made their way through the various shops.

“We can’t go home without a souvenir,” you replied with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I want to bring something back to show Kaminari.”

Shinso sighed, “just bring him that winebottle and tell him it’s haunted.” He pointed to the destroyed shelf behind the bar.

“Don’t be a partypooper.” You teased as you made your way across the creaky wooden floorboards. Suddenly, you heard a snap and cried out as the floor gave out from under you. You landed on your side, effectively breaking your phone in the process and you cursed and whined as pain shot through your arm.

“MC!” Shinso carefully peered down the hole. “Are you alright? I’m coming down there!” He said as he readied himself to jump down the hole.

You looked up at him and noticed a shadow right next to him also peering down at you. You lied there frozen as it’s red eyes glinted in the darkness and when you blinked, it was gone.

Shinso grunted as he landed on his feet, “shit… I’m gonna feel that in the morning.” He mumbled to himself as he bent down beside you. “Let me see.”

“Did you see that?” You asked him.

“What?”

“It was right next to you!” You gripped the front of his shirt. “We have to get out of here.”

Check out the rest of the masterlist! 💕

#shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #bnha collab #shinso hitoshi #reader insert #fumikage tokoyami #bnharem collab #horror au #hts series

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let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

your wonder under summer skies (10/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

-/-

“Swan? Let’s do what?”

Emma’s lips are parted, and he keeps waiting for her to finish her sentence, to say something. He was rather interested in hearing what exactly she was about to suggest that they do, but she’s no longer paying him any attention.

What could have possibly gotten her attention?

Killian twists his head around to look behind him, and it would be impossible to miss Neal.

Neal and Tamara and the way that they’re standing hand in hand in line for the Ferris wheel like some kind of cliché out of a bad movie that plays on TV every Saturday night.

Well, fuck.

Killian’s hands fall from Emma’s hips before he moves them to her shoulders, tugging on them and trying to get her attention. It doesn’t work at first, but then she’s blinking and shaking her head before snapping her mouth shut, her lips pressed into a firm line.

“Hey, let’s get back to my place, yeah? The fireworks will be soon, and we don’t want Liam and Elsa to get the good spots. Liam’s got that huge head, so he might block the view.”

Her laugh in response is pathetic, and she obviously knows it from the way she overcorrects and attempts to make her laughter genuine. It falls flat. She’s an open book to him sometimes, he wishes all the time, and right now, he knows the path her mind is about to take.

He would know. He’s pretty much paved the damn path for her.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” she hisses, eyes slanting.

“It’s a holiday. Everyone here spends it at the pier.”

“Not Neal. Never Neal. He told me every year that he would never come with me. That asshole.”

Emma pulls away from him, and he loses his grip on her shoulders as she storms off toward Neal. Her swan falls off, and he has to lean down to pick it up.

Bloody hell.

Is he ever going to get to quit chasing this woman?

“Emma,” he shouts before cursing under his breath. He doesn’t need to bring attention to them. “Swan, hey.” He has to jog to catch up to her, tugging on her wrist and pulling her back and away from the main path until they’re standing between two booths.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go yell at that fucking bastard for showing up here with her.”

“That is not going to make you feel better.”

“Really? Because I think getting to tell him that I absolutely despise him would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

“For a moment, yeah, but then it all goes away and he gets the satisfaction of knowing that he is still affecting you like this.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. He may be a stubborn ass, but she’s the exact same way.

“Really? You’re telling me this? You, who if I remember correctly, had sex with me to forget about your ex when she showed up, is preaching about momentary satisfaction not being good enough.”

Killian flexes his hand and tries to keep it from balling up into a fist. He’s got the stuffed swan in his left hand, and it’s already straining from how he’s clenching it. Damn thing. He hates how easily it hurts now.

He hates that this is the way Emma is about to be, but if she’s going to have to realize that he’s more than capable of giving what he gets.

Stepping closer to her, Killian dips his head down until his looking into Emma’s eyes. “Aye, that I did, but I was not the first to do it and I also regretted treating you like that. I think it may be smart for you to remember that before you decide to throw stones at me because you’re upset with Neal.”

Her jaw clenches, and her eyes cut away from him. He can feel the heat radiating off of her, and her chest heaves as she breathes. There’s this part of him, something he knows is primal, that can’t look past the way her breasts look as they move or the way that he can see her stomach when he looks down. She’s been wearing a bloody bikini all night, the flannel shirt on top of it not at all buttoned, and he’s tried not to think too much of it.

He has spectacularly failed. The woman is a temptress.

But she is also his best mate, and none of that is what he should be focusing on since it doesn’t even make the list of his priorities at the moment.

“I think I need to be alone.”

“Swan – ”

“It’s…you’re fine. We’re fine. I’ll be on the rooftop at ten like I’m supposed to be so we can all watch explosions in the sky. I just need some time to breathe.”

“Emma.”

She finally looks at him. “I’m not going to talk to Neal. I promise. See you later, okay?”

“In half an hour, love. I’ll save you a seat.”

“Good.”

And then she’s walking away and turning in the opposite direction of Neal and Tamara. Killian, however, can’t seem to do that.

He’s seen Emma upset more times in the past month and a half than he has in the past five years. There have been times when she’s broody and annoyed and mad as hell, occasionally at him, but it’s never been like what he’s seen lately.

It’s never been heartbreak that she’s been attempting to hide.

If he’s honest with himself, he’s never cared this much either.

Right now, though, all he can think about is what a fucking idiot Neal has to be to cheat on Emma and to keep doing things that are going to upset her.

She doesn’t deserve it. No one does.

Well, Neal Cassidy might.

He and Tamara are still standing in line at the Ferris wheel, but Killian now realizes that they’re not in line at all. They’re simply standing there talking with Neal’s hand on Tamara’s ass as she throws her head back in laughter.

If Emma wanted Neal to come here every year, Killian can’t understand why he wouldn’t. They were together for half a decade, and the man couldn’t come once? It’s not asking much. Hell, it’s barely asking anything.

But he’s here with the woman he was sleeping with behind Emma’s back?

Maybe he should have let Emma tell him off because that would feel so damn good right now.

Breathing in, Killian pushes down the urge to walk toward Neal and decides to walk past him. Momentary satisfaction, he reminds himself. If he discouraged Emma from doing it, he can’t be the hypocrite.

Damn does he want to be.

Fortunately, or unfortunately really, for him, Neal seems to want to let him have the opportunity.

“Hey, Jones.”

Fuck.

Killian stops walking and slowly turns on his heels. Cassidy is walking toward him, his girlfriend staying back where they were standing, and Killian is definitely going to rip the head off of this swan before the night is over.

Better it than Neal, he guesses.

(Logistically. He would much rather rip the bastard’s head off, but he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life in prison.)

“Cassidy,” Killian greets, but he doesn’t offer anything else.

Neal smiles and laughs before sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging. Is he trying to look nice? Because it sure as hell isn’t working.

“Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.”

“You can talk, but you can talk here. I’ve got somewhere to be in a few minutes.”

Neal’s eyes narrow, and he looks down at Killian’s hand. Out of instinct, Killian wants to pull his shirtsleeves down and cover his scars, but that’s not what Neal is looking at.

“Look, man,” Neal sighs, that same, insincere smile on his face, “I saw you walking around earlier with Emma, and I feel like I’ve got to warn you.”

Oh, this asshole definitely deserves to have his head ripped off.

“Pardon?”

“You and Emma.” He shrugs again while Killian straightens his shoulders. “I always kind of knew you two had a thing going on, but I didn’t believe it until I saw you walking around with her earlier. I’m cool with it and all, but I don’t think you know what you’re getting into with her. There are a hell of a lot consequences when it comes to choosing to be with Emma, and they’re not good ones.”

Killian swallows as his teeth start to grind. What kind of bastard is this man? Who the hell does he think he is to tell Killian that there are consequences to being with Emma? Killian wants to laugh, he really does. He wants to laugh and tell Neal that he has no idea what he’s talking about since Killian is most definitely not with Emma.

Mostly, he wants to knock the man’s front teeth out and break his fucking nose. He used to not be this bad. Killian was rarely a fan, but Neal had his redeeming qualities. They could have been friends in a way.

He doesn’t mourn the lost opportunity there.

“What could you possibly know about choosing Emma?” Killian sneers, stepping into Neal’s space. “Because it seems to me that you didn’t, that you did the opposite of that, and for you to think that you have any right to what she does with her life has got to be the most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard.”

“So, you are fucking her then? I was right.”

It’s like he’s just been slapped across the cheek.

“What could possibly make you think that?”

“You wouldn’t be defending her like that if you weren’t.”

He scoffs and closes his eyes, his breathing heavy. “You said there were consequences to choosing Emma, aye? Well, I would still choose her every damn time even though I’m not with her. You, on the other hand, left, and the consequences of that mean I never want to hear about you trying to interfere with her life again. Go spend time with your girlfriend, Cassidy. I’m sure she’d love to know that you’re still hung up the woman you left to be with her.”

“Fuck you.”

Killian bites his tongue and focuses on the feel of the stuffed swan in his hand to keep him from doing something stupid.

“Emma has always deserved better than you. It’s a shame it took you hurting her to see it. Fuck off, Neal. I think it’s time that you moved on.”

“Neal?” Tamara calls from behind them. “Is everything okay?”

Neal blinks, slowly, and then the smile on his face transforms from sinister to charming. “Just catching up with an old friend.”

And then he walks away and goes back to Tamara.

Killian has no idea what just happened. All he knows is that he’s pissed off, still desperately wants to break Neal’s nose, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to act normal around everyone when they’re watching the fireworks.

He just really needs a damn drink.

But he is not paying for an overpriced one when he’s got perfectly good rum at home.

It’s easy to get back to his apartment once he gets out of the crowd. It’s quieter, too, and he can hear voices coming from the rooftop already. The darkness of the night makes it impossible to tell who’s up there, but he’ll find out soon enough. When he walks inside and makes his way upstairs, Skipper is asleep on the couch. He doesn’t bother to do more than lift his head when Killian comes in. Some guard dog.

Killian puts the swan down on the kitchen island, reaches into the cabinets for a bottle of rum, and takes a long sip. He doesn’t need a glass, not yet.

“You planning on sharing that?” Emma asks.

Shit. He didn’t even know she was here yet, but she’s sitting in the dark corner of the living room with her knees pulled to her chest.

“Do you want some?”

“You don’t have my wine, so yeah, yeah I do.”

She stands from the chair and walks over to him, grabbing the bottle out of his hand before taking a long, slow sip. She’s usually not much of a rum drinker, but it does happen on occasion.

“Why aren’t you up on the roof with the others?”

“Didn’t feel like climbing up there yet. You know, it’s really a shame that the fire escape is not on the side of the building that your room is on. Would have saved me once or twice.”

“I’ll have a talk with whoever built this place a few decades ago.”

She huffs and takes another sip before putting the bottle on the counter. “I wasn’t ready to see everyone. I don’t know. I felt like maybe I couldn’t keep it together, and I…well, I felt really damn pathetic.”

“Hey, hey, no, don’t do that. I – ” Killian sighs and reaches forward to put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “Do you want to go to my room and talk? I know we don’t have our slushies, but I think it can still work.”

“To talk or to…”

His lips press together. “To talk, love. Come on.”

Killian gently pushes Emma out of the kitchen until she’s walking toward his bedroom. He grabs the swan off the counter as a last-minute thought before following her. She doesn’t turn on the lights, so he doesn’t either. Instead he moves to open the curtains on all of his windows so that moonlight filters through. The fireworks will be starting soon, and he doesn’t want to miss them. He’s got a pretty good feeling they won’t make it up to the roof tonight, but he’s fine with that.

His mattress squeaks as Emma settles down, and it shifts when he joins her, the both of them settling against the headboard and under the comforter. It’s silent for awhile, and while Killian thinks Emma is going to take the lead, he finally realizes that she isn’t.

For once, it might have to be him making the first move.

Out of the corner of his eyes, his scars flash silver in the moonlight, and all of the sudden, Killian has this unbelievable need to share something he hasn’t talked about in years.

Something he’s never wanted to tell Emma before, but now, it’s all he can think about.

“Do you know how I got the scars on my arm, love?”

She twists her head. He’s not looking at her, but he can feel her gaze on his face instead of his arm. “No.”

“I was in an accident.”

“When you were in the Navy?”

Killian clicks his tongue. If only.

If only it had been that. He imagines that might be easier to deal with when it’s all said and done, but that’s not at all what happened.

“It was a car accident, actually.” He swallows and braces himself. If he focuses on simply staring at the painting of a sailboat hanging above his television, he might be able to get through this. “I was with my girlfriend at the time. Her name was Milah. We’d been out to dinner, and I was driving us back to my place. The roads were empty. I swear, I’d never even seen them that empty, and our light turned green so I started driving when an SUV ran a red light and crashed right into us in the intersection. I don’t actually know what happened after that, but the police report said we flipped several times before hitting a tree.”

A soft, small hand brushes against his own, and he spreads his fingers so Emma can twine hers together with his. It’s the most comfort he’s felt in ages, so he doesn’t stop himself when he brings their joined hands to his lips.

“Milah died in that accident, while all that happened to me was my hand getting caught in the door and shards of glass leaving some pretty nasty scars. I don’t even know how I stood up again after Liam told me she was gone. I didn’t think I would survive. I was so young and in love, and I thought she and I had the entire world in front of us.”

Emma squeezes his hand, and really, it’s better that way instead of her trying to say anything.

That’s not why he’s sharing this.

“I was so heartbroken. I’d never felt pain like that before, but then, as I started to make funeral arrangements, I got a call from her husband telling me that I was not welcome. I didn’t know she had a husband, that she had a son either, and it was like I was grieving two different things: the woman I’d lost and the woman I thought I knew.”

“Killian.”

“Don’t,” he whispers, pulling their arms over Emma’s shoulder and tugging her closer. “Don’t say anything. I don’t want pity. I simply felt like you deserved to know this about me and to know why I am so unbelievably fucked up when it comes to relationships. I loved a woman who lied to me for years, and I loved her still even after I knew about it. That anger you feel toward Neal? The one that’s mixed with betrayal and sadness and this underlying love, I have felt it. Sometimes I still do, and you are not pathetic for feeling anything that you’re feeling. I don’t care how many times we have to have this conversation. I will tell you the same thing every damn time.”

“Maybe one day I’ll actually be able to listen to you and believe it.”

“It takes time, and while I’m sure one of our friends is much better equip to understand emotions, I know that I understand you, Emma. I always have, and though you piss me off half the time, I’m never going to judge you for anything.”

She sighs, her shoulders moving with it, and then she leans her head over to his shoulder, strands of her hair tickling his chin, and Killian tugs her closer before brushing his lips against her forehead. There’s a loud whistle outside and then an explosion of light that flickers down over and over again as the fireworks show starts. the view isn’t quite the same from in here, the height of the windows not quite right, but he’s not going to complain. There are things much more important than lights in the sky.

“Do you want to hear something stupid?” Emma suddenly asks.

“I always want to hear something stupid.”

“I’ve never won a stuffed animal before. Hell, I’ve never even had one as a kid.”

Suddenly, he gets why it was such a big deal to Emma that Neal come with her to the festival. He understood, partially, but sometimes he forgets that Emma’s childhood wasn’t ideal. It was hard and painful from the few things he’s been honored to hear from her, and even with how much his sucked, it wasn’t like Emma’s. He at least had a few good experiences before his mum died and before his father became one of the biggest asses in the world.

It’s not a competition in who has had a shittier life, but it does help him keep on understanding her. A few days ago she made some off-hand comment about having a few minor run-ins with the law as a teenager, something about stealing food from convenience stories, and it clicked in his mind why she doesn’t like when Neal works at the pawn shop.

She doesn’t want to fall back into her past, and she doesn’t want to take any risks that are going to lead her there.

Knowing that and knowing that Neal must have known too, makes Killian seriously regret not breaking the man’s nose.

“It’s not stupid, love. If it’s important to you, in any way, it’s important to me.”

Her laugh is lost amongst the sound of the fireworks, but he still hears it. It’s a good sound to be able to hear.

“I always wanted to get to play the games as a kid, but I didn’t have the money. So, I don’t know. It was nice. It was stupid, but it was nice. I’ll have to find a place to put it in my apartment even though I’m not sure where in my apartment it would go.”

“On that chair in your bedroom where you put all the clothes you’re supposed to put up but never do.”

“Shut up. Just accept that I’m thankful for it. Don’t make fun of my laundry habits.”

“Sweetheart, I’ll win you however many stuffed animals your heart desires. No questions asked.”

“Then I expect several next year.”

Killian laughs into her hair as something unfamiliar settles in his stomach. “It’s a deal.”

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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emptycanvasposts · 4 years

Text

Did You Kiss Him?|| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: JJ Maybank known for flirting with everyone but what everyone doesn’t know is that he really only has eyes for y/n. At a boneyard party to kick off the beginning of summer JJ sees y/n flirting with a touron and it makes his blood boil. Thinking irrationally, JJ goes and does something stupid but y/n is there to pick him back up and put together the pieces.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: weed use, underage drinking, fluff

A/N: Here comes the JJ fic that I’ve been promising! I know it took me a while but I’m finally posting it and I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you insanely much to @maybankslut for reading through it and giving me some encouragement that I desperately needed to finish writing it! Let me know what y’all think!

The Boneyard. The only place that you could find kooks, pogues, and tourons alike willingly together. It was the first party since the end of school and you were with your friends, the pogues, setting up the kegs and moving sticks and logs around to start a fire to kick off the party.

The first boneyard party of the summer is always something that excites you. You had gotten ready with Kie and Sarah at your house earlier that day. You were wearing your cutest pair of distressed high waisted shorts and white tube top, ready to have the best summer ever. This was going to be the best summer for you, Kie, Pope, Sarah, John B, and JJ.

As the party started, you saw John B and Pope handing out drinks at the keg, Kie talking to some people by the bonfire probably about saving the ocean no doubt, and then there was JJ, flirting with the tourons as usual and no matter how much you convinced yourself otherwise it made your heart hurt. Chugging the rest of the drink you were holding, you made your way to JB for him to give you a refill with a smile on your face putting the thought of JJ in the farthest parts of your brain for the rest of the night.

Throughout the night you found yourself talking amongst some tourons and even some kooks. And after way too many drinks you were stumbling a lot. Noticing you stumbling, a touron you had talked to earlier came over to help you sit by the fire. He began to make subtle flirts with you and as y’all were talking you felt yourself giggle at a good bit of the conversation you were having.

JJ was watching as you and the touron laughed and flirted with each other. Even with the alcohol and weed buzzing through his system, he couldn’t stand the sight of you flirting and getting close to another guy. Standing next to John B who was mid-conversation, JJ turned to him and told him, “I gotta go, I’ll see ya later.” With how he was feeling he definitely didn’t want to go to the Chateau, he was so pissed and done with the No Pogue on Pogue macking rule, especially after seeing you all over some random guy knowing you’d probably be there later that night. Without even thinking he just walked, and walked, and walked, all the way to the last place anyone would think he would go.

You watched as JJ had walked off, not thinking anything of it since you promised yourself you wouldn’t get caught up in your feelings about him tonight. Leaving the guy at the fire you walked over to JB, “Where’d JJ go?” you asked him. John B smiled at you saying, “He just said he had to go and took off. Guess he forgot something.” You looked at him, your face drooping slightly and said, “Oh.” Knowing if you stood there and thought about it for too long you’d ruin your night, you went grab another drink and sit back on the log with the touron.

After a few more drinks you decided to head home. As you started to walk away and head to your house the touron stopped you asking if he could walk you and not wanting to be rude you said sure and started your walk. Living only a few houses down made the walk a whole lot better. Along the walk, you and the tourist made jokes and laughed with each other, talking about different things to do on the island and what not. Getting to the front door of your house, you turned to the tourist saying, “Well this is my stop,” with a chuckle. Looking at you the tourist gave a smile saying, “I had a really great time with you at the party,” and after those words left his mouth he slightly inched closer to you and leaned in as if he wanted to give you a kiss. Knowing he was absolutely the last person you wanted one from, you grabbed the door knob to your house saying, “I’m so sorry i made you feel that this was going somewhere in that direction, but I’m into someone else,” and left him in the front of your house as you went inside.

Making it inside your house, you walked to the back and into your bedroom. Grabbing a tank top, a bra, and a pair of panties, you made your way to the bathroom next to your room to take a shower. Getting into the shower you stepped into the hot stream feeling it soothe your tense muscles. After getting out and dressed you laid down in bed, still feeling like the room was spinning from being so drunk you passed out.

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Rolling over, still feeling the slight buzz of alcohol in your system, you knew you couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. Sure enough checking your phone told you it was still only 4:30AM, but that wasn’t what surprised you. On your lock screen was displayed four missed calls and ten missed texts from JB telling you to get to the Chateau quickly, all from within the last thirty minutes. As soon as you read the messages you immediately called JB back hoping that everything was alright.

“y/n, I need you here as soon as you can get here...it’s JJ,” John B told you as he answered the phone. Those words alone caused you to sober up. Grabbing a baggy shirt and pair of shorts you changed and grabbed your keys before heading out the door and to your car. Starting your car all you could think about was what had happened to JJ. Was he hurt? Was he sick? Was something terribly wrong?

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You pulled into the driveway of the Chateau five minutes later and rushed inside. JB met you at the door talking to you before you got inside. “He looks really bad y/n. When he came back here after the party, I just knew he had gone and done something he shouldn’t have. He kept asking for you and wouldn’t calm down the slightest until I told him that I called you.” Stepping aside John B opened the door allowing you to get inside.

JJ was sitting on the couch with a bag of ice on his stomach and a bag on his eye. You could tell he was in a lot of pain because every time he made even the subtlest movement he would wince. John B turned to you and whispered in your ear, “I’m going to go lay in my room and let y’all be alone. If you need anything just come let me know.” You looked at him and gave him a slight nod, knowing you wouldn’t need anything but silently thanking him anyway.

Walking over to JJ, you sat next to him, “Why don’t we go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up Jay?” you asked him. He nodded slightly before moving over to the edge of the couch to get up, you could see the pain he was feeling as he went to get up and you pulled his arm over your shoulder to help him get up and over to the bathroom. Placing him on the toilet, you grabbed a towel, some band-aids, and some rubbing alcohol.

Walking back over to him you squatted down to his level, putting some alcohol on the towel and rubbed it over the cuts near his eyes. JJ winced at the burn, his through his teeth when you rubbed over any of the cuts that hurt more than others. You bit down on your bottom lip every time he winced because you hated to see him hurt, even if you knew it would help him heal better in the long run. Putting the towel down on the sink, you moved your hands to the hem of the shirt he was wearing and slowly moved it up to pull it up and have access to his side. JJ looked down at you with wide eyes, genuinely confused as to why you needed to take his shirt off. “Jay, I’ve gotta see if there’s any more cuts or bruises so I can help you,” you looked at him with sad doe eyes, y/c/e meeting his blue orbs.

With an incredibly sad face he gave a subtle nod and you pulled his shirt the rest of the way over his head. Your face dropped slightly as you could now see the huge bruise on his ribcage that was already turning black and blue. Picking up the ice pack he had placed on the sink when y’all had gotten into the bathroom, you put it gently on the bruise. “Come on Jay, let’s go lay on the couch,” you told him with soft eyes and a soft smile. “Both of us?” he asked you his face uplifting slightly with what you could have sworn to be hope. “Yea both of us, I’ll even cuddle with you since you’re hurt.”

Making your way back to the couch, you placed JJ gently back onto the couch, letting him get comfortable before laying on your side facing him. Even though you knew he probably wouldn’t answer to what he did or why he did it, just the feeling of him so close to you and the both of you vulnerable because of him being hurt you had to ask him. “What happened Jay? And I know you probably won’t answer and I don’t want to force you into answering me, I just hate seeing you hurt like this,” you looked into his eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. JJ looked down, you swore looking at your lips, before looking back into your eyes, “Did you kiss him?” and you could hear the way his voice broke slightly as he asked. “No Jay,” you started saying before finding some semblance of courage to tell him what had happened with the guy you knew he was talking about. Biting your bottom lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and looking down as you softly told him, “I-I only flirted with him because I saw you flirting with those tourons. And when he walked me home and tried to kiss me, I told him how I couldn’t because of there being this guy that I like even more than words can describe,” looking up into his eyes as you said the last few words.

JJ smiled as big as he could before cupping your face with the hand that had been resting by his side and pulled you into a fierce and desperate kiss. At first you were surprised by his actions but as soon as you comprehended that his lips were against yours you melted into him. Moving your lips against each other felt perfect and like it was meant to happen, you fit together like you were meant to be together. JJ softly ran his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened willingly, your tongues massaging one another’s perfectly. He tasted of weed, beer, and spearmint and you were getting drunk off of it. As the kiss started to get slightly more heated, you ran your fingers through his hair pulling slightly and JJ let out a soft groan at the feeling.

Pulling away from each other only after feeling like neither of you had any air left in your lungs, you rested your forehead against his. “I was hoping that the person you told him you liked was me,” he said slightly out of breath and with a nervous chuckle, “because wow. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” You gave him a huge smile and laughed softly, “Actually I think I can because I’ve been waiting to kiss you since the moment I met you JJ Maybank.”

JJ pulled you in for another kiss, this one not as desperate but no less passionate. “I hope I lived up to your expectations because I can promise you this is not going to be the last time we share late night kisses,” he said after he pulled away with a slight smirk. JJ wrapped his arms around you and you curled into the embrace, your head resting on his chest but careful not to lean too hard against his bruises.

“Jay, I know that we’ve still got a lot to figure out and as long as I am with you, I know that we can figure anything out. But for now, can we just hold each other and sleep in each other's arms?” you asked him softly. “Of course y/n. Anything for you sweetheart,” he told you.

Curling up in his arms, pressed against his body, you soon felt the bliss of sleep starting to take over your body. As you were falling asleep you felt JJ press his lips softly against the top of your head and heard the soft sound of his voice say, “I love you y/n.” Smiling at what you hoped were his words and not the call of sleep to your mind and body, you fell asleep peacefully and blissfully.

#jj x reader #jj outer banks #jj maybank #Outer Banks #outer banks fluff #jj fluff #fanfiction #ecpwrites

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dearest-alexander · 4 years

Text

Hither and Thither- 365 DNI fanfic

Summary: She saved him, in so many ways a man could be saved. Massimo x Laura.

Author’s Notes: I’ve uploaded this on AO3 & FF. I’m more active there, than here. Please check the sites for updates.

Read it here:

Archive of our Own

Fanfiction

CHAPTER 1

The Don was talking about something.

The gentle, raspy voice was contrary to the cunning, dangerous man his father could be.

"Molto bene, molto bene, Mario." His father exclaimed in that giddy tone and slapped the man's shoulder, sitting in the front passenger seat. The man gave his father's hand a reassuring squeeze.

He couldn't help but wonder if his father's animateness was a good or bad thing. Being in the family business, the terms are sometimes... interchanged, by certain and normal people anyway.

"What would we do without him?" His father, the Don Torricelli, continued, looking at him for acknowledgment.

"A couple of fun things, for a start." He jested, earning a chuckle from his father and Mario.

Mario was his father's most loyal friend and confidant. He was there ever since he can remember. He was practically family, almost like a second father to him. But he was the strictest man he knew, even stricter than his father. Though, not more dangerous.

He gave a deep sigh and settled in his seat, switching his attention to the familiar scenery of Cefalú.

The familiar streets and alleys blurred as they passed. Locals and tourists alike flooded the white sandy beach. Their big umbrellas providing color to the already-rich scenery. Food carts swarmed the shore, providing refreshments in the scorching Italian summer heat. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the heat.

Everyone one except him.

It was the heat. If there was one thing he hated more than disloyalty and disobedience, it was the fucking heat. He almost didn't want to come today because of it.

But he had to.

"It's part of learning the trade." Mario reminded him this morning— just as he had done on more than one occasion.

Not that he wasn't interested in what his father does—which he was, a hundred percent. But there was this, sort of, defiance. Knowing that the choices he wanted to make have already been made for him, gives him a compelling urge to rebel. To break free and try his own luck in the business.

He wanted to step in, take over, show his father what he's capable of. Show him, without words, that his son was ready to take over. He wanted to see the notorious Victorio Torricelli actually grow old.

He wanted his father to finally surrender his gun in exchange for a quiet life. Because, he was aware that a lot of people in their way of life don't and won't have the same option.

But, like a young cub, he's shunted of his efforts.

"Learn how to walk first before you can run, figlio."

Despite his personal afflictions in anything that involved emotions, he loved his father. He revered him more than anyone else. His father might be the only thing in this world he truly cared about.

And money, of course.

The car stopped at their destination; a restaurant in the middle of a marketplace, right at the heart of the town. He exchanged a disapproving look with Mario through the rearview mirror. It was unusual for the Don to pick such a public venue for a meeting.

He was not hiding his objection and tried persuading his father to change location since the day he knew.

"Pa, it's too public. You can't be serious."

"Ah, figlio. Always worrying about me."

And why shouldn't he?

When your father's the most feared, most dangerous man in Europe, you learn to sleep with a gun in your hand.

As accustomed, they waited for a few minutes for their detail to secure and check the place. He usually assisted them, but under this weather?

No fucking way.

Mario and his father fell into a quick conversation about when they were teenagers. His dad had retold countless stories about his and Mario's prime. Just two privileged Italian legacies, against the world.

"You remember those girls at the beach?"

"Ey! Didn't you sleep with one of them?" his dad chirped.

"No, I didn't!"

"You did! You son of a bitch!"

"I slept with two!" Mario carolled, making him think of something gross.

They laughed, that good-natured laugh, he could aways expect from them.

He only half listened and continued to ogle at the mundane events happening before him.

The crowd was a river of people from all walks of life. A riot of colorful clothes under a huge tent of different loots and merchandise.

Everyone seemed to move from all different directions. The cacophony of blabber outside reverberated even on his tinted windows. Heat radiated their jolly faces. He could easily spot the tourists by their awful hats and big ass cameras hanging around their neck. And the locals, with their loud and rude gesticulation.

There was music coming from the makeshift stage on the beach. A few sunburnt, drunk, and barely clad guests were swaying to the bass. If everything went as planned today, they could stay the night here and he could slip to the rave.

His eyes fell on the bookstand a few feet west from where their car was. A couple of skateboard punks wheezed through the stand. One of them nudged the corner of the table and mountains of books toppled on the sandy pavement. He could hear the owner screaming at the kids, who didn't even turn back. His face was crimson with anger, a book threatening to fly from his hairy hand.

A petite woman with dark hair scrunched under a floppy hat, approached him. Her light skin was a fair contrast to the blue summer ensemble she's donning. She squatted down to help the poor man.

It startled him for a second.

Kindness has always been a mystery to him.

To him, kindness was the coercive reaction and result to fear.

Nothing in this world has been ever genuine—he realized that from a very young age.

Must be a foreigner. He thought. No local could be that generous.

He watched as the man, who appeared flushed all of a sudden, stood up, books recovered under his arms. The lady, who still had her back to the car, offered her gathered books back to the vendor. She must have said something because the man was nodding in a very vigorous manner. She then proceeded to slide her fingers on the display of books.

The merchant was still staring at her with a stupid smile on his wrinkled face. The woman picked up a book. She showed it to the man who nodded and grabbed a bag from under the table.

He observed, with an amused and curious expression as the people passing by the tent all did a double take at the woman. Some women narrowed their eyes, as if envious while all men have sheepish grins on their faces.

He sat straighter in his seat.

Turn around, baby girl.

The woman was and completely in her own element. He found himself transfixed by the way she's skimming her slender fingers on the book stacks

He caught himself and frowned.

What the fuck?

"Cosa pensi, Massimo?" His father asked.

He whipped his head back to his father, and tried to look anything but distracted.

A knock rapped Mario's window, saving him from his father's inquisitive brow. Outside, Domenico, his half-brother, gave them an assuring nod.

Mario got out first, before him and his father. Perspiration trickled down his neck in an instant. His hair clung in clusters on his nape.

He cursed.

He couldn't understand how anyone could enjoy themselves when the weather was dry and as hot as a desert. He could feel the gravel smoldering beneath his shoes. He might as well ask one of his guards to fry an egg on the sidewalk to prove the point to his father.

His father knew how much he hated the Italian summer heat.

"Whoa! Hot! Hot" His dad smirked at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. He was fanning his hands with an exaggerated flair before an umbrella came to his aid.

He groaned and rolled his eyes at his father. Taking pride in himself that he was the only person allowed to do so.

Six men from the entourage, stood beside them as they walked towards the restaurant.

Upon entry, they're welcomed by the loud blabbers and aroma of Mediterranean dishes.

"Buon pomeriggio."

A tall, lean, olive-skinned woman greeted them, her dark eyes lingering on him the most. He removed his sunglasses and tucked in on his dress shirt.

He heard the woman's breath hitched.

He couldn't help the smug smirk that formed on his lips.

Mario stepped in. And the woman bowed her head, as if finally recognizing the dangerous men before her. In an instant, she cast her eyes down and moved out of the way.

May be I'll have my fun with her later.

Domenico lead them to a wooden staircase and outside the balcony. A couple of diners were there, seated under their own umbrellas. Cocktails, appetizers on hand.

Great. More parching heat.

He walked to a secluded tent in the corner, away from the impertinent eyes and ears of civilians.

Two men were already sitting under the canopy, waiting, looking angst.

As they should be.

They're negotiators for a new venture his dad was looking into.

They lowered their eyes as they shook his father's hand. Their adoration was plain on their faces.

But were they real though?

He learned that love and fear, like good and bad, have interchangeable terms.

In this lifestyle, anyway.

Their men spread out and around the perimeter. Their authoritative presence was alarming some of the guests, who didn't hesitate to up and left.

His father and Mario sat down across the two men. While he maintained his distance.

This particular time, he wasn't allowed to join them. Considering what happened last week, he's banned from all negotiations until further notice.

He stood over the railings to past the time and asked for the binoculars from his guard. He occupied himself with the arid and suburban landscape of Cefalu. The heat was emanating from all surfaces and buildings. It's making him even more thirsty than he was

"Get me a bottle of beer. Ice cold. Have that beautiful lady receptionist bring it up to me."

Alek, his guard ever since he was sixteen, nodded and left.

He was looking out into the water when he heard the heightened pitch of his dad. He put the equipment away and observed.

From the pronounced scowl on his father's face, he could assume that it won't be getting any better. His future plans to sneak out later this evening was automatically canceled.

His father stood up and raised his hand in a dismissive wave.

That was the end of the discussion.

He looked pissed.

But as soon as the Don met his gaze, the old man smiled, the corner of his eyes shining with mischief.

"Fucking opportunists." His father cussed, clapping him on the back.

"You want me to talk to them?"

The Don shook his head and glanced back. "Mario's handling it." He gestured to the binoculars. "We don't want you threatening them away again, do we, son?"

He simpered, "But it's so much fun."

"Figlio, sometimes, you have to compromise. We have to make sure that we have certain people on our side exactly when we need them to be."

"I don't think you need anything or anyone else anymore."

His father laughed, removing the binocs from his face. "Have I thought you nothing?"

That's when he realized what how he must have sounded.

"Non accontentarti mai, anche se hai tutto, Massimo." His dad reiterated, forcing another smile from him. "Don't ever-"

"Don't ever settle. Even if you have everything." he repeated. "I know Pa, I know. My bad."

His father grabbed his shoulders so he was facing him. "And you do your best not to forget it."

He beamed down at him. "Sì."

His father cupped his face, like when he was a kid. The dark eyes, feared by many, gleamed with a raw and familiar with emotion.

And he knew why; he has his mother's eyes. His father often told him that he could still see her stubbornness alight in them every time they talk. He placed a hand on his father's forearm.

"You're-" He heard a sharp whoosh of wind and his father's sentence abruptly stopped. The paternal smile faded and a shocked expression replaced it.

His mind and body went numb.

Behind them, someone shouted. And chaos breaks.

He held his father. One hand on his shoulder, the other on the gushing wound staining his chest.

What's happening?

He was trying to keep them upright, but he felt weak, like someone's, something, was sucking the life out of him. His father slipped from his hands and dropped on his back.

His world went into a complete standstill.

A tight, burning pressure permeated from his torso and he fell down. Arms splayed out, the bright, yellow sun, blinding him.

The men were running, their guns poised in the air. The guests on the balcony scrambled down the staircase, screaming their heads off. He saw a flash of blue before he heard Mario shouted different orders to the men.

He closed his eyes and tasted the rust on his tongue. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound ever came. A pain shoot from his side, like a thousand hot electric needles pricking him. His muscles were tense. He was sweating, but at the same time felt like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water on him. He coughed and thick, warm liquid spurted out of his mouth.

No.

He became aware of his heartbeat slowing down, its weak thumps vibrating in his ears. The excruciating pain doubled, paralyzing him even more. His breathing became shallow, fast, gasps. He heard his name shouted over the dry wind.

Domenico.

Domenico crouched down and shook him. He slapped his face, his expression livid.

He and Domenico loved wrestling and kick-boxing, since they were kids. Being older and bigger than Nico, gave him a huge disadvantage; he always wins. Nico doesn't have a chance.

He almost wanted to taunt his brother and point out that this is the first time he couldn't get up to beat his ass.

"Wake up!" He grabbed the lapels of his shirt, pulling him up. "Don't you dare die on me!"

He winced, both from the pain, shaking his entire body and his little brother's trembling voice.

Idiot.

Leave me alone, Nico.

He never felt so exhausted.

Papa, Go to Papa.

He wanted to sleep.

Leave me be.

He just wanted to fucking sleep.

Domenico stopped shaking him. Somebody from behind grabbed his brother away. Domenico cried out, struggling to get back.

Get him out of here. Get both them out of here.

He closed his eyes and swallowed. He heard voices, so many voices. But they're muffled, like someone put cotton in his ears, drowning him out. He could feel each footfall vibrating on the ground. Somehow, he couldn't feel the heat he felt from it earlier.

He only felt the cold.

Good. I hate the fucking summer.

Everybody seemed to have abandoned him.

Finally.

He wanted to rest.

Time to rest.

But then, a shadow fell above his closed eyes, blocking out the blistering sun. A warm, soft hand touched his, raised it and pressed it on his chest. He felt it ran over his face, leaving tingling, warm impression.

It surprised him.

Without warning whatsoever, the warm, comforting sensation pulled him back. Away from the cold, drab void sucking him.

Then, the warmth left him, as swiftly as it came.

No.

Come back.

It was a struggle to open his eyes. But he did.

He blinked and sees someone, a woman, hovering over him.

Why does she look so familiar?

Then it hit him.

The woman in the bookshop.

The moment his eyes focused on her, she seemed relieved.

He felt it resonate through him.

Somehow, she appeared brighter, more unbearable to look at than the fucking sun above them.

She removed her floppy hat, placed it behind his head and used it as a cushion. She smiled down at him. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

He concentrated on her dark eyes, and even darker, almost, raven hair, flowing freely over the wind. Her lips were pink and soft as a carnation in full bloom. Her nose, tall and prominent. Her jaws, chiseled to look at but felt so delicate to touch.

He felt the remaining air knocked out of him.

He wanted to reach up and caress her beautiful face, but his body wasn't cooperating with him at the moment. Because everything hurts.

Everything fucking hurts.

The woman worked above him. He couldn't tell what she was doing. But his eyes bulged out of its sockets when he felt her, pressing her hand, hard, on his side.

He looked down and saw her holding a blood-soaked napkin on his torso. A sharp pain lanced through him, making him bite on his tongue. He closed his fist around hers.

Please, stop.

The woman cradled his head, soothing him. Her sweet, but firm voice, muffled by the pain. "We have to keep applying pressure. You're alright. You're okay."

The discomfort from his side was making it harder to think. He saw colorful spots flashed before his eyes, merging and splitting into thousand circular patterns. He let out a strangled scream and held the woman's wrist.

Make it stop.

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts. But I have to, okay?"

Her face swam back into focus again, clearer than everything and everyone else.

Her hair was falling around her face. He wondered what her hair would feel like wrapped around his finger. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear and see her blush.

He wanted to see it more than anything else.

"It's okay, you're gonna be okay." He heard her cooed through the haze before then she roared, "You work for him?!" Her voice as sharp as her face.

"Ye-yes." He recognized Alek's voice, the only one in his men who can speak English.

"Okay!... Bring me a flat surface... No… I don't care! Break the table, if you have to! He needs to be lying down!"

He never heard someone yelled at his men like that, not even his father, not even him. This tiny woman was barking orders to his people like she fucking owns them.

Atta, girl.

He felt his body spasm out of control; he was trembling again. This time, it's more unnerving than the last. The consciousness, he was trying his best to hold on to was slipping.

He was falling through the empty, dark space again; the space he knew was reserved for people like him.

"Hey! Hey! I'm here! I'm here!" she shouted at him, raking her fingers through his hair.

That felt good.

"Look at me."

And he did.

Her eyes were enthralling, it felt like they were the only thing keeping him here. It felt like it would hurt more to look away.

What color are they? He mused.

A flashback appeared before his eyes- a forgotten memory. He's eight again. He's baking. His mom was laughing beside him. He missed her laugh. She was letting him whisk the melted dark chocolate for the cake. She dipped her fingers in the bowl and bopped him on the nose.

Mamma.

"No, no no." he heard the raven-haired woman again. Her voice, disembodied like she's talking from behind a veil.

The wonderful slender fingers stroke his jaw again, like she did those books. "Stay with me." she said. Her tone was the borderline between a plead and a direct order.

He wanted to laugh. Nobody orders him around. But he did as he's told.

"That's it. Eyes on me." She uttered with her big, penetrating eyes.

Gray. Her eyes were gray, like the color of a giant sea storm.

"Where's that table?!" she howled again.

He kept his gaze on her, trying to name and decipher all the grays in her eyes.

If his life wasn't ebbing away, he would've found the situation ludicrous. The great Massimo Torricelli was finally taking his time gazing at someone else's eyes for the very first time.

And the last time.

How fucking twisted is that?

"Stay with me. Stay with me. They're coming." She whispered. One hand was holding his head up, the other was still in the gnashing bullet wound, applying pressure. The blood spilling from him was staining the blue romper she's wearing. He felt sorry. Why does he always have to destroy beautiful things?

I'm sorry. He almost wanted to say.

Dying really does bring the firsts out of people.

"Hurry up!"

He stared at her beautiful, angelic face, committing everything in his memory.

"Stay with me." she murmured again, flicking her eyes to his face and wound every now and then.

His dry lips cracked into an agonized smile. He wanted to comfort her, tell her it's alright.

But he knew.

He'd always known.

From the very first time he pulled the trigger.

Nobody's coming to save the devil.

He stopped believing in God decades ago. But in these few moments of limbo, he realized that this- seeing her for the first and last time- was the cruelest punishment he could ever have.

He clutched her hand with his shaky ones, rallied the remaining power in his body and choked, "Mio Angelo."

And the darkness welcomed him, like the prodigal son that he was.

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5 years later.

Warsaw, Poland

-I'm so sorry. I'll come over tomorrow. I promise, B.

She received the reply a few seconds later:

-Girl, it's okay. I have my wine and a half naked Paul Wesley on tv. It's fine, I'm not thinking about whatishface.

She texted back, guilt shrouding her:

-Are you sure it's okay?

Again, she didn't wait a second for her response.

-I am! Go and kick their ass, Laura. x

The text elicited a smile from her. She shoved her phone in her bag and storms the elevator.

Furious was an understatement.

She's supposed to have dinner with one of her best friends tonight. But because David Sawicki can't do his job properly, she's stuck here for the next hour. She heard the echoes of her most prized heels on the floor tile. Her fists clenched beside her, her lips pursed in a straight line. She felt the anger emitting like, from her skin.

The employees on either side of her parted and flattened themselves on the walls. She made her way to the board room, avoiding anyone's judgmental gaze.

They don't know what happened. Let them look.

She reached the heavy wooden door of the conference room and pushed. There were only four people in the room.

"Good evening, Miss Biel." Oskar, the PR manager greeted. She returned his warm smile and sat on the empty swivel chair next to him.

James, the head of their security sat in the nearest chair by the door. Marissa, the senior head's secretary was eyeing up the bastard sitting across her. But Sawicki was ignoring her. He was ignoring everyone in the room, except her.

She met his belittling gaze.

"Have you packed your shit already, Miss Biel?"

She sneered back at him. "Shouldn't you be asking yourself that question?"

Before he could make a comeback, the doors opened and the senior head entered.

"Good evening." Hayden Marek addressed the room, his eyes glued on the stack of folder he's holding.

Without further ado, he took his seat at the center of the table. "Now, can anyone please explain to me what the hell happened yesterday-"

The room was quiet. Her eyes remained on Sawicki, challenging and unfaltering.

Marek raised his voice. "-And how the fuck did it happen?!"

Sawicki was quick to point fingers—as the child that he always has been. "Why should we ask Miss Biel? Excuse my language, but one needs to have balls to have this job."

The room turned to her.

"Miss Biel?"

"First of all, it's not my fault." She started, cool, calm, and collected.

"Listen, Ma'am-" Sawicki butted in.

"I haven't finished yet." She hissed at Sawicki. "As I was saying Mr. Marek, it's not my fault. I'm in charge of bookings and reservations. It has never been my job to temper rowdy customers."

She narrowed her eyes at Sawecki. "And I think you should explain to us, why in the entire building there are only two security guards in the building? I remember explicitly suggesting that we need more. Since the band is Beatles level famous. I remember telling you that at our briefing, Mr. Sawecki."

Beside her, she could feel her friend trying to hide his smile.

"I booked the band at our hotel on purpose. They're at the top of their game and we need the publicity. We gave them and their team the best rooms. We even closed down the bar and buffet room to give them their privacy. Me and my team went to them ourselves and asked for anything they might need. Even if it's not part of our job."

She continued, holding everyone's attention. "Everything was going smoothly, until a roadie got past security and caused a scene. One of the members got mad because we promised them privacy."

Sawicki was speechless. He knew the story himself, having happened before his eyes.

"The roadie sent messages, bragging how she got in. And before we knew it, a legion of slutty teenagers bombarded the lobby. The band barely got out. If it weren't for the efforts of my team. I dealt with the press and strategized a new approach so we wouldn't lose our loyal customers and patrons. I'm proud to say that we are now booked for the next four weekends." She slid the reports to Marek, whose eyes widened at the numbers at the bottom part of the paper.

Yes, keep the ugly, greedy man fat with money.

Marek averted his annoyance to Sawecki. "You, in my office. Right away." And he stood to leave, James and Marissa followed him.

She leaned forward, elbows flat on the table. "This is exactly you need balls for."

Sawecki glowered at her before turning his leave.

Oskar clapped a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Good job, girl." And he too left, leaving her alone in the big, cold conference room.

She gave him another amiable smile, hoping it'll ease the tension in her chest.

Unlike many, Oskar is different. She felt at ease with the old man. Oskar was probably her only friend in this building. Most of them either feared her or wished her out.

They were unsuccessful with that last part.

But she has to admit, she's tired of this. Men constantly disparaging her and her achievements.

Because of what? Her gender?

Unlike those dumbasses she met in med school, she presumed that men in the hospitality sector would be more... non-discriminatory. But no. All men appear to be the same sensitive, egotistical and easily threatened rats she experienced them to be.

Yes. Even her boyfriend fit the bill, sometimes.

Men always tell society that they need strong, intelligent, independent women. But what they really want were cheerleaders. Someone to boost and feed their ego.

She exhaled the deep breath she was holding.

Calm down, Laura.

To distract herself, she checked her phone for the very first time since lunch.

Still no messages from Martin.

"How surprising." she scoffed.

She has never been the clingy type, but a simple short text after a long day at work would ease her stress.

She and Martin had been dating for four years already.

He came up to her at a hotel event and made an actual fool of himself to get her attention. She thought it was cute. Two years into the relationship, she sold her apartment and moved in with him. One year of living together, he proposed. And to this day, she didn't know what came over her to say yes.

For the past few months, they've been having more arguments. His reason? She's spending way too much hours with her work and no time for him at all. And she felt guilty, because it's true.

Thus, she's been trying to redeem herself. She tried to come home early, prepare his food and do other stereotypical duties of a good fiancé. But still felt... insufficient. Like something was missing.

Olga was having none of it. She hated the man. Unlike Bianka, she has never warmed up to Martin, even after all theses years. "You fool, don't settle for that lazy, bald freak. You're not his maid. Let him wash his own smelly gartered underwear." and she added, for good measure,

"Passion is essential to every relationship, as important as love."

Olga was always the voice of reason- whenever she wanted to be,

But she loves Martin.

She felt passionate about him.

She loves him.

Right?

If that wasn't love, why did she buy their tickets to Sicily for her birthday weekend? Why did she booked those romantic getaways? Martin was pretty excited about it.

That's love.

"I love him." she convinced herself. "You love Martin, Laura. Stop overthinking it."

The door creaked open again and the maintenance guy went in, pushing his mop cart. The man stopped and apologized.

"Przepraszam, Miss Laura. I thought it's empty."

"No, no. It's fine. I was just leaving" She smiled and gather her things. "Have a good night."

"You too, miss."

The floor was now empty, except for the cleaners who waved in her direction. She waved back, sincere and friendly.

As she was about to press the elevator button, when Oskar called her from the doorway of his office.

"Laura?"

She turned. "Mmm?"

"Marek told me that he wants to meet with you tomorrow. His office at 4."

"What?" She couldn't help but the thrill in ringing in her voice. But she toned it down. "Why?"

Her friend jiggled his eyebrows at her. "I don't know. Marek called me to say that Sawecki no longer works here. The General Manager position is open."

Laura squealed and hugged the man. She has not been working her ass off for four years to settle for the beta position. She knew she deserved so much more than what they're already giving her.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"Hey, all you sweetheart." Oskar kissed both her cheeks. "As an early gift, I have my driver take you home."

"What, no-"

"No buts. Besides, I have a date. A very hot date."

"Oh! Where'd you meet him?" She teased.

"Now you know that I don't kiss and tell, Laura sweetie."

"Kinky! I love it."

"Now get your ass out of here, Conrad is already in the lobby."

"Thank you so much." She enveloped him another tight hug before hurrying down the elevator.

Her mind was still reeling from, the possibilities of her promotion. She went over her mental list of the changes she could make to the management. This was probably the best birthday present she's ever had in years.

As he promised, Oskar's driver was waiting for her. Conrad has always been shy around her. He was standing by the passenger door and opened it as she approached.

"Dziękuję Ci." She smiled.

The man turned pink and nodded.

She didn't need to tell him the directions since Oskar has offered to take her home countless of times. Most of those times were, when Martin forgets to pick her up.

It wasn't a long ride, only a good thirty minutes—including the traffic. She could take the cab, if they weren't too damn expensive this time of year. If the bus fumes wouldn't kill her, she would literally take the bus every single day.

She was in her third year of MED school when her grandmother fell ill and died. Due to debt and budget constrictions, she's forced to quit the one thing she cared about the most.

She loved medicine, she loved studying it. The lengthy explanations, crucial step by step procedures, the jargons appealed to her.

With the death of her grandmama and her quitting medicine, she had a relapse and fell into a mild depression.

That's when her body developed it.

She was out with Olga that day she first fainted. She thought it was only panic attacks but it became more frequent. She consulted her doctor and found out she has Supraventricular Tachycardia. In simpler terms, she has a heart palpitations. That meant that her heart was beating more than it normally should. Her condition causes her to, sometimes, pass out and hyperventilate. This prevented her from engaging in strenuous exercises, smoking, stressful situations and caffeine.

She hated it. Everyone who knew has treated her like she's something fragile, like, she'll break at the tiniest push. It was disconcerting. So, she decided to keep it a secret, that even her parents didn't know.

She had no plans to tell Martin because it might affect their relationship—which it did. He accidentally found out a few months after they moved in together.

She couldn't tell anyone at work, except of course, the HR manager. She couldn't let assholes like David Sawicki get the slightest indication that there's a chink within her armor.

The only persons who do know were her college best friends, Bianka and Olga, and her doctor.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Martin.

Finally.

Hey honey, I'm coming late from work. Don't wait up for me.

Wanting to prove to herself that what she felt for him was still valid, Laura smiled deviously. She glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Conrad wasn't looking where wasn't supposed to.

She unbuttoned her blouse, down to the last three buttons. She recorded a video and captioned it with:

Aww. But they miss you.

When he didn't reply in the first three minutes, she sent him another. She hiked her skirt to her upper thighs, widened her thighs and snapped a picture.

I miss you.

She was feeling hot that she slid her fingers on her inner thighs. She kept her moans to herself.

She waited for his reply, but it didn't come. Not even when she reached their apartment.

The frustration was twisting her abdomen, evil and needy. Martin's coming off late ever since... she couldn't remember.

A few weeks ago, he's required to put extra hours for the insurance firm he's working for. It was a slap to her face; she's finally having a taste of her own medicine. But she didn't pressure him on it. Nor complain to him about it. She loved a hard-working man. Besides, that way, he could finally get off her back for doing the same.

But as a consequence, she's left… dry and unsatisfied. With only her toys and fingers for company.

She sighed and threw her bag on the hook, and shook her hair out of her bun.

She took a quick look around.

At least, he left the apartment clean before he left this morning.

Martin was the messiest person she knew. Seriously, how hard is it to throw your wet towel in the dryer? Or put the scissors back where he got it from?

The knot in her abdomen tightened and she bit her lip. She went to check on her phone.

Still nothing from Martin.

She called him, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Oh, fuck it."

She poured herself a glass of wine before going to their bedroom. Even though she's alone in the apartment, she closed the door as a form of habit.

Martin doesn't like it when she pleasured herself.

She pulled out her special drawer and grabbed the black toy hidden among her sweat pants. The sight of it alone made her insides clenched in excitement. She took s huge gulp of wine and began to undress herself.

Her fingers traced her curves, slowly. The pads of her thumbs brushed over her nipples. She let out the loud moan she's been holding in the car before she switched the vibrator on.

The buzzing filled her ears, making the fire in her belly burn even more. She grazed it over her bra. Her nipples erected in their lacey confine. She removesd the clasp of her bra, to her own slow pace, and shimmied out her drenched undies. She lay on the bed.

There were certain advantages of studying medicine. Aside from treating other people part, this was one of them.

Shew was gasping now. Her hand was rolling the toy over the sensitive spot. Just the right amount of roughness, if not, more. Something Martin could never do, no matter how many times she told him how.

Her moans rocked their stilled apartment. She arched her back as she pumped against her own palm, using her legs and feet to meet her strokes.

She bit the back of her hand as she felt the white heat dripping from her. Her back landed back on the mattress and she waited for her heart to slow down.

But she knew she could take more.

God.

She could take so much more.

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#365 dni #365 days #laura biel #massimo torricelli #Laura x Massimo #Massimo and Laura #michele morrone #anna maria sieklucka #Blanka Lipinska #365 days fanfic #365 dni fanfic

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