#(And please hire me to animate it over I swear I will be better at geometry I can work for 3 and not sleep)

[somerandomcockroach]

I SWEAR TO GOD EVERY TIME YOU POST AN ANIMATIC I THROW AWAY EVERYTHING I'VE BEEN DOING AND SUDDENLY HAVE POWERS AGAIN EVEN IF TIRED, EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED

PLEASE MY BRAIN RESIST TO READ UNTIL I BINGE ALL OTHER POSTS BEFORE IT BUT I'M ABOUT TO BURST TO READ ABOUT THEM IMAGINE IT ANIMATED, IT IS SO DAMN CRUNCHY TO BE ANIMATED, AND IT'S NOT NEON GET YOUR EYES OUT COLORS BUT REALLY ALIVE COLORS AND ALL THAT MIXED UP AND AND AND I AM SO DANG MUCH ABOUT TO DIE RATCHET PLEASE AHAHA "OH THERE IS SHIT GOING ON, GOTTA CHECK FOR INJURED" INSTEAD OF RUNNING

So uh. Human engineer Ratchet finding a half dead decepticon. Anyone?

I got bored so I made this little thingie haha. With all the cool fics we have about Ratchlock in mecha au I felt like they need at least something for a starting point:D

[lnights]

“…I thought you forgot about me.” “I’m sorry. Today has been… a lot and I– I wish I could have called you sooner.” With Joel/johnny please?

Thanks for the ask Ty🖤

The day had gone to absolute hell.

It was a day off, but there hadn't been a single day off on this godforsaken tour that had actually been relaxing.

There were too many arguments; he couldn't sleep in because of the constant yelling, couldn't make a call because he was being constantly pulled in to meditate or break up fights before they could escalate too much.

It was no better on gig days, but it had been getting worse and worse as the tour went on and it was only a matter of time before it would boil over and become physical.

And Archie was in rare form that day, he had picked fights with everyone he had came in contact, leaving Johnny to apologize in his wake to try to save face with the other bands.

“Please,” Johnny had begged after the fifth argument, “if nothing else, think about the reputation we'll get here. They'll say we're difficult, aggressive, we won't get asked on another tour here-”

“I don't want to tour with these posers anyway,” Archie sneered, “I'm just standing up for myself like a man should.”

It was like that all day, Johnny did his best to put out the fires his singer was constantly starting, he started to wonder if it would be worth it to just hire someone to trail Archie every day and keep him out of trouble.

It wasn't until people started talking about dinner that Johnny realized he had fucked up.

He was supposed to call Joel at noon.

His phone had been abandoned in the hotel room they had for the day (he thanked everything holy that he was sharing with Middy) and he had been so busy all day he hadn't had a chance to go back for it.

He ran back to the hotel from the small bar Archie had insisted on stopping at and straight up the stairs to the second floor, not pausing to take a breath until he saw his cell on the bed he had claimed.

Biting his lip he looked at all the missed messages and calls, Joel was clearly upset but had stopped messaging him an hour before. Which wasn't a good sign, Johnny knew how easily he spirals when left on his own.

He sat heavily on the bed and clicked Joel's number, hoping he would answer, Finland was eight hours ahead of this part of the US and it was possible Joel had already gone to bed, even if that would be early for him.

Still, he wasn't that surprised at the lack of sleep in Joel's face when he popped up.

He didn't say anything though, just stared.

“Hi,” Johnny sighed when he didn't speak, “I don't suppose I can beg for forgiveness?”

Joel seemed to fidget, looking down before finally whispering “…I thought you forgot about me.”

“I’m sorry. Today has been… a lot and I– I wish I could have called you sooner.” Johnny raked a hand through his hair, “baby I'm so sorry, I swear I didn't mean to miss our date, it's the only thing that's been keeping me sane.”

Joel gave him a small smile at that, “me too, but keeping me sane is a tall order.”

Johnny laughed and laid back on the bed, “going a little crazy with the album all done?”

“It comes out in a month!” Joel said, getting more animated as they talked, “and we don't have any gigs for another week. I'm going nuts.”

Johnny felt his stress melting away as he listened to him, being so far away from his boyfriend was hard on both of them and he couldn't wait for this godforsaken tour to be over.

“How about you?” Joel asked, “has things gotten any better?”

“No,” Johnny sighed, “I think this is the end for us, Mid and Taz feel the same.”

“I'm so sorry,” Joel told him. They had talked about Archie's behavior at length so it wasn't a surprise, but it was painful to watch all the same.

“It's what it is,” Johnny sighed, “at least it means I'll get some more time with you.” he smiled, “I can't wait to see you again love.”

Joel smiled back, “I can't wait to see you too.”

“Just a few more weeks,” Johnny said softly.

He could survive this tour, he had Joel to go home to.

[rafescoke]

Older ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe falling in love with a Maybank wouldn’t be too bad.

Warnings: Mentions of sexual abuse!, alcohol, getting intoxicated, sexual harassment, swearing, sweet Rafe Cameron

A/N: I don’t think this is my best fic, but let me know if I should continue this mini series!! thank you so much for 500+ followers, ily <33

p.s; you know the drill.. send requests!

(Y/N) wondered if a boy like him would ever like a girl like her.

It’s the soft touches against her skin, you see, that got her all worked up at work. She had a bad day at school, getting in a fight with her brother over not washing the dishes piling up in the sink, and there he was;

In his blue plaid shirt, his hair messily parted and that beautiful smile of his. He laughed at something the girl in front of him had said, and (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart.

“Go. Table 7.”

“What? I’m on my break!” She huffed, picking up her half-eaten sandwich and motioning it to the manager. “I have 10 minutes left.”

“We’re short of staff today,” he grunted, trying to balance the tray and an iPad on both hands. “Please.”

“Do I get more pay this month?”

“I’ll think about it,” he grumbled, and handed her the tray as she wrapped the sandwich again. “Oh, can you tell your brother that he’s fired? He didn’t come for his shift again today.”

“Not my problem,” she mumbled, taking the tray into her hands before proceeding to the diners. Her eyes swept over the many tables, and stopped at the seventh table from the front.

Fuck.

She swallowed her saliva, trying to contain her nervousness as she walked towards the table. She hoped against hope he wouldn’t notice her and continue to talk to whoever she was in front of him, but she wasn’t that lucky.

“Hey,” Rafe said softly, looking up to her. (Y/N) smiled weakly, not wanting to pull any attention towards her and hurried up to serve them.

“Hey, um-” the girl before him stopped her, and (Y/N) turned to look at her with her usual server smile. She hates it. “The pasta’s cold, can I get a new one?”

“Come on, Dee, it’s not that big of a deal,” Rafe said, but (Y/N) tried her hardest to maintain the smile. She couldn’t care less about her pasta, and she wouldn’t even bat an eye if an animal had crawled into her meal.

“I’ll reheat it for you,” she smiled fakely, picking up the plate before walking back towards the kitchen. Her smile completely disappeared when she pushed through the door separating the dining area and the kitchen, and proceeded to the cook.

“Another bitch?”

“Another bitch,” she sighed, and watched as the cook laughed and placed the pasta in the microwave. “You know, John, I really wish I don’t have to work in a restaurant.”

“It gives money, so I ain’t complaining much,” he mumbled, fiddling with the buttons on the stove. “But you’re still so young, mija. Don’t stress yourself too much. Where’s the brother?”

“JJ? I don’t know. He didn’t even come to school today. I wish he’s a better brother.”

“He is,” he shrugged, watching the timer counted down to signal the end of the reheating process. “He’s just ain’t showing it. They’ll appear.”

“What’ll appear?”

“The love.”

(Y/N) laughed, flatting her tray against the metal surface to let the cook placed the reheated pasta. “There’s no such thing as love, John. It’s all made up for little girls to believe.”

“Are you not a little girl?”

(Y/N) smiled, muttered a ‘thank you’ before proceeding to table number 7. She took a deep breath and forced herself to form the most politest smile ever, and placed the pasta in front of the girl, or Dee, or whatever Rafe was calling her.

“Thanks,” she muttered, not looking at her, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but noticed the side glance Rafe had given her during their brief meeting, but she didn’t want to dwell so much on that thought, not when she needed to make an amount of money to help put food for her family.

“You’re back late.”

“Sorry dad, I was working,” she sighed, placing her house keys on the table. “Have you eaten?”

Luke swatted his hands, motioning that he’s content. (Y/N) sighed a breath of relief, not feeling like making him anything and was just asking out of politeness.

“Your pants are a little bit tight today.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes, the sudden wave of fear engulfing her. She bit her lips before turning to her father, “It’s the only pair I have left. The others are still in the laundry bag.”

“Hmm,” Luke hummed, his eyes still intently glued on the television screen. (Y/N) heard the soaring of a football game, and prayed it was his team that had won the match so that he wouldn’t be as cross.

“I’m going to my room, okay?”

“Wait-”

Her chest was heaving heavily now, being so afraid of her own father that she could feel her tears starting to form. She forced a weak smile, “Yeah?”

She didn’t realise how he had gotten up from his previous seat in front of the television, being so caught up with the warnings inside her head. He leaned onto her, smelling her scent, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re not out with any boys, are you?”

“No,” she whispered, and she gripped onto the hem of her work top. “Dad, can I please go?”

“Why are you so scared?” He continued, his pointer grazing against her ear to her cheeks. “I’m your dad, remember?”

“Dad?”

Luke pulled away from her and walked towards the television again when a certain blonde boy appeared from the front door, his eyebrows furrowed. JJ’s eyes followed his father’s movement, and ended at the sight of his sister.

The tightness in his body softened as he took a step closer to her, “You’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, wiping the hot tears away from her face and giving him a weak smile. “I’m just going to stay in my room, okay?”

“Okay,” JJ said, watching as she walked slowly towards the back of the house. He glanced at his father, silent as ever, and muttered something under his breath before making his way to his room as well.

JJ Maybank hates Luke Maybank more than anything else in the world, but he also loves him more than anything else in the world. He had wished for nothing else other than his father actually being a father figure for (Y/N), if not him. He could see how much she needed Luke to become some kind of a guardian.

Every time there was a PTA meeting, it had been John to come and see her teachers. John had joked a lot of times before, saying how he’s going to adopt her one day, and when JJ was just 14, he used to get so overprotective of his sister that he would pull a face and gesture some kind of a rude word at him.

But if that's what it takes for her to finally be safe, he’s willing to lose her.

“Hey,” JJ knocked on her door softly, and he waited quietly to hear her shuffle of movements. He waited a few more seconds, and when heard the lock unlocking, forced himself a smile.

“Do you want to go to the bonfire party tonight?” He asked, raising his eyebrows to motion how serious he was. JJ never liked bringing (Y/N) to see the other pogues, and he had tried to assure himself that it was because of how she’s a year younger, but he couldn’t deny the real truth;

(Y/N) knew about his huge crush towards Kie, and the last time she hang out with them resulted into him having to tackle her down before she could say anything to the girl.

“Is Kie not coming or something?” (Y/N) made a face, but JJ could see the happy glint in her eyes.

“Can you drop that topic already?” He sighed, “Are you coming or not?”

“Um-” she glanced at something behind her back, sighed, and nodded slowly. “Okay. I guess I could use some time off schoolwork.”

“Don’t stress too much about school,” JJ shrugged, “You’re still 17.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Can you go, now? And oh, you’re fired by the way.”

“They love me, they’ll hire me again,” JJ shrugged, and gave her another comforting smile before making his way back to his room. “You know you can always tal-”

“No, I don’t know,” she groaned playfully, closing the door against his face as JJ laughed. His heart soared, and he swore he would do anything in his will to protect his sister from their father, heartbreak, or whatever.

. . .

“I missed you!” Kie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug and giving her a kiss on her cheeks. “God, you’re taller than me now.”

(Y/N) glanced at her brother, to which he was motioning his thumb against his neck, trying to tell her that he would kill her if she says anything to the girl. (Y/N) laughed, “I missed you too, Kie.”

(Y/N) situated herself beside Pope, watching as he flicked through his Chemistry text book, and scribbled something a note on one of the pages.

“Isotopes has the same number of protons but different number of neutrons,” (Y/N) mumbled, pointing to false knowledge he’ve written. Pope looked at her, amazed, and let out the loudest laugh ever that JJ had to scream from the front for him to shut up.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he continued to laugh, erasing his mistake and jotting down the correct information. “And you’re younger. Do you hear that JJ?”

“What?” JJ yelled back, his eyes focusing on the road.

“Maybe you should be as clever as your sister,” Pope laughed, and Kie gave him a high-five from the front seat. He turned to look at her again, “Where’d you learn that?”

“JJ’s text book.”

Pope laughed, his head shaking at the thought of JJ sleeping while his sister sneaked into his room to steal his text book. He finally understood the reason why he was always in detention for not bringing his book.

“Stay close, and don’t wander away,” JJ warned, staring straight into her eyes. She laughed at his tone, but her smile disappeared when he pulled her again.

“I mean it, (Y/N).”

“Are you seriously turning into dad, now?”

“Don’t mention his name,” he sighed, fixing his hair and walking before him with his friends. “Just stay close, okay?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, already seeing how boring her night was going to be; trying to understand the inside jokes between JJ and his friends, not being allowed to drink any alcohol and is going to be constantly asked to fix her ribbed top so not much of her skin is exposed.

She sighed, following her brother, but as soon as they got further away she felt the need to just hang out, maybe searching for her friends and getting a drink for herself. She was never a fan of alcohol, so JJ really didn’t have to worry about her getting drunk.

“You’re (Y/N), right?”

(Y/N) looked up to a pair of gorgeous green eyes, and she felt her heart sink. She looked away, not expecting her best friend’s boyfriend, and sighed.

“What do you need, Carter? I’m looking for Emily too.”

“Oh, she’s not coming,” he shrugged, standing beside her. She felt the sudden warmth and scooted further, not wanting to allow any attention towards her. “Something about a stomach ache.”

“Why aren’t you resting with her?” She pulled a look, crossing her arms. She didn’t want to talk to him or even look at him, but he didn’t seem to get that note.

“And pass up this year’s bonfire party? Nah,” he sipped on his red cup, and leaned against her. She could feel his lips beside her ear now, “Wanna get a drink?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Come on,” he expressed, throwing his arms up into the air in fake exasperation. “It’s a party. You cannot enjoy a party without being drunk.”

“Hm,” she shrugged, still not interested. She thought about what else she could say to get him away from her. “Worth trying, I guess.”

“You are damn impossible to please, Maybank,” Carter laughed, showing his pearly white teeth. (Y/N) smiled at this, taking the statement into a compliment, and made to walk away. He grabbed her wrist before she could get away, and she sighed in annoyance.

“One drink,” he smiled. “And I’ll leave you alone.”

(Y/N) thought about this, long and hard, and the sudden thought of wanting to be free for once entered her mind. She gave him a small nod.

“One drink.”

“One drink,” he confirmed, and pulled her to the drinks section. (Y/N) waited for him to get her a drink, her eyes swarming over the sea of people dancing, some talking, some already kissing and some just standing. This was her third bonfire party in Obx, and the party didn’t get any boring.

“Here you go,” Carter appeared, placing the red cup into her hands. “Let’s chug it down together. Are you ready? 1, 2, 3!”

(Y/N) scrunched up her face at the strong taste of vodka, feeling her throat burning. It felt good though, especially when you are in need to forget some hesvy things in your mind.

“What do you say?” Carter smiled, “Want more?”

“I’ll try more,” she laughed, giving him the cup as he muttered ‘I told you so’ and came back with another cup. They counted together again, and (Y/N) never felt better after drinking an intoxicating drink.

She didn’t remember why she never liked alcohol, but at that moment, she felt like drinking her money and family issues away. She didn’t even realise when Carter had placed his arms around her, telling her humourless jokes that she laughed at anyways.

“Wanna go to my car?”

“Huh?” She looked at him, half-smiling and half-frowning. She was at her 7th cup now, but being a lightweight person, she felt like she was on her 30th cup. “What for?”

“Driving around town,” he smiled, standing up and offering his hand. “Wanna drive around with me?”

“Just you?” She mumbled, closing her eyes. She could feel his arms around her, trying to help her walk, but she didn’t have enough energy to push him away. If anything, she was glad he had brought her away from the loud music that made her dizzy.

“Where’s the car?” (Y/N) whined, feeling her arms hurting from the rough grip by Carter. She could hear the crunch of twigs under her feet, and when she finally had an ounce of power to see her surroundings, she saw the empty car park near the beach.

“Carter, I don’t feel so good,” she said, trying to push him away. The grip around her tightened, and she had never felt so panicked as she was at that time. She tried to calm down, still looking for anyone who can help her, but the parking lot was deserted.

“Carter, I can walk,” she tried again, but he didn’t let go. She understood the whole situation clearly now, and wished she had stayed with JJ and his friends instead of wandering around by herself.

“Hey, hey, hey.”

Carter stopped walking, cursing while he turned to look at the voice behind him. (Y/N) grunted, feeling her arms bruising, and she couldn’t even glance up to see who it was that saved her. She could feel her eyesight getting darker as she leaned on Carter for some type of balance.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” Carter groaned, still holding her by his side. “Don’t you have anything to do? Like golf, or something.”

“Nah,” the voice replied, and (Y/N) perked up at the way his voice sounded. It was all so familiar to her. . .

“Look, Cameron, just go, okay? I’m not in your business, so stay out of mine,” Carter huffed, walking backwards slowly. “And she’s with me, right, (Y/N), you’re with me?”

“Let her go, man,” Rafe sighed, “I’m making it easy for you. Let her go.”

“Come on, I’m not letting you take her with you,” he shrugged, “Rafe. I swear. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“Aren’t you a little bit too old for her?” Rafe raised a brow, “Aren’t you my age, or something?”

“Fuck!” Carter yelled, and (Y/N) gasped from the sudden pain coursing through her veins at the jerk. “Go and fuck off.”

“You’re not leaving me a choice, man,” Rafe said, and before anyone could process, Carter was down to the ground, yelling at Rafe for him to stop as he kept throwing punches after punches, his forehead creasing and his knuckles ripping.

(Y/N) groaned from the ground, unable to get up, and she swore he had drugged her. She was never this weak, not even when she was sick, and she hated how she couldn’t even lift a finger.

“Don’t fucking touch her again!” Rafe yelled, spitting on the groaning boy as he grunted against the pain, his knuckles all bruised up and bloody.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Rafe asked, helping her to her feet. (Y/N) nodded, still so weak, and wrapped her hands around his arms as he watched her limped.

“You know what? Let me carry you,” he sighed, looking at the previous space where he had had a fight with Carter. He was nowhere to be seen now, and Rafe didn’t think he could fight him off for the second time, not when he’s tired.

“I can walk,” she mumbled, trying to push him off, but even a second after he let her go she tripped onto the road, and grunted at her burning knees. “My knees, oh my god, I’m in so much pain!”

“Let me carry you,” he sighed again, squatting to her level. She looked so sad, pouting her lips and her eyebrows all scrunched down. She shook her head when he tried to hold her, crossing her arms.

“(Y/N), let me carry you.”

“I don’t even know you!” She spat, her eyes glassy and her cheeks red. Rafe didn’t know she would be like this when she was drunk, but he couldn’t deny the amusement he was feeling.

“Of course you know me,” he tried again, slowly wrapping his fingers around her wrist. “It’s Rafe.”

“I don’t know any Rafe.”

“It’s Rafael Cameron,” Rafe rolled his eyes, cringing at the sound of his full name. He never liked the name, saying how it made him look like some type of a knight in 1823, but it was one of the only memories left of his real mother.

“I know a Rafael,” she nodded. “But he don’t look like you.”

“(Y/N), let’s just go before some creep decides to kidnap you,” he pulled her up, to which she obliged at the sound of ‘kidnapping’. “I’ll send you to your house, okay?”

“No!” She pulled him close, hugging him tightly that he was too stunned to react. His arms weren’t even touching her, stopping midway, and he only hugged her back when she cried.

“He’s gonna be mad at me,” she whimpered, tugging on his collar. “And he’s going to beat me up and-”

“Wait, wait, who?” He pulled her off, watching as she looked at him with those eyes again. Rafe furrowed his eyebrows, his chest heaving. “Does JJ do-”

“Not JJ,” she cried, and pulled him towards a random car. “Can I please just stay with you until the next morning? Please.”

“Are you sure?” Rafe looked around, and he thought about Dee who was waiting for him at the party. He shook his head at the thought, not wanting to put her first. “We can stay somewhere else?”

(Y/N) nodded frantically, and Rafe thought about the truth behind all of her words. She was never this miserable, looking all happy when he sees her at the restaurant, taking orders with that goddamn smile and laughing at the unfunny jokes old men would give her just for some tips.

Without him knowing, the restaurant by the bay became one of his top favourite restaurants, but it wasn’t because of the food. Rafe never really liked their steaks, always preferring the one closer to the country club, but he was willing to put aside his cravings for that one certain waitress.

“Okay,” he nodded, leading her to the jeep parked a few cars away. She looked so tired, her hair messily tucked behind her ears, her makeup smudged, and Rafe felt a sudden wave of relief for being there in the parking lot to grab his phone in the car.

The drive was silent, and Rafe even thought that she had gone to sleep. When he looked at her from the corners of his eyes, he was surprised to see her silently staring at the dark view outside, unmoving.

He parked outside of the hotel he usually goes to when he’s in need for some alone time, checking the time on his phone before helping her out. She didn’t say a word to him, keeping her head down, only inching closer when they were on their way up to their room.

(Y/N) never been to a fancy hotel like this, only staying in a small hotel in Spain with her aunt 4 summers ago, so she was quite bewildered when she looked around the room. She bit her lips, staring at the one queen bed, and turned to look at him.

“Are we sharing a bed?”

“Oh, no, we don’t have to,” Rafe quickly said, trying to calm her down. “I think you should sleep it off. I’ll stay on the sofa.”

“Okay, thanks.”

But she couldn’t close her eyes. Every time she tried to sleep it off, she would think about Luke with his hands around her face, forcing her to look up to his eyes and whispering sweet-nothings into her ear. JJ never knew about this, and (Y/N) never wanted to tell him out of fear and disappointment, so she had been keeping the secret for a really long time.

“Rafe?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

“It’s nothing,” he huffed, and (Y/N) heard him shift. The sound of a pillow hitting the floor blared throughout the dark room, and (Y/N) felt bad about letting him sleep on the sofa, especially when he was the one who had brought her to the hotel.

“You can stay in the bed with me.”

“Really? I can’t do that.”

“Why?” She asked, because she really didn’t mind sharing a bed with Rafe Cameron. It wasn’t like she was going to attack him.

“Just because.”

“Is it because you don’t like me?” She asked, and she heard an amused laugh coming from the sofa.

“Trust me, you’re wrong on that one,” he replied simply, and (Y/N) had to think of what he said again.

Wrong?

“Is it because I’m a minor?”

“We’re only 2 years apart.”

“So what’s the problem?” She pressed, because she couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just sleep on the same bed as her. They didn’t have to be all pushed up to each other. . .

“Because,” he sighed, “I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of stuff.”

“Rafe, I don’t understand,” she closed her eyes, her mind woozy from the back and forth fight with the boy.

Rafe sighed again, licking his lips before standing up from the sofa. “Okay, but I’m not a creep, okay?”

“So it is because I’m a minor,” she nodded to herself, and she felt a sudden wave of disappointment. If only she was a year older.

“Whatever,” he breathed, trying to get the best position under the covers. He felt her fingers and quickly pulled his hand away, his heart beating.

“You’re weird.”

“I just said I’m scared,” he shrugged, and finally settled comfortably. He felt so much better now, not having to pull his legs together and crossed his arms just to fit on the sofa.

“What if I do want you to sleep with me on the bed?”

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“No, Rafe, what if I do want you-”

“Shut up before I make you.”

(Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and she thought of the many times she had repeated this exact line in a movie and how she had romanticised her own scenario to that line. She never thought of Rafe Cameron as the protagonist, only imagining Timotheé Chalamet and no one else.

“You’re still drunk, okay?” He suddenly said, and (Y/N) bit her lips at his exasperated tone. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. I’m not Carter.”

“Okay,” she said softly, “I didn’t ask for you to fuck me, though.”

“Really? You’re begging for it right now.”

“I just want you to get comfortable.”

“Hm.”

“You’re full of yourself.”

“Yeah? You should see the eyes you give me at the restaurant,” he replied simply, and he could feel himself thinking of her slightly narrowed eyes, looking straight at him.

He shifted his position, placing a pillow against his front.

“Why didn’t you act on it?”

“Oh god, we’re still on this?” He grunted, “Go to sleep.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to fuck me?”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and before she could think about anything else to say to him next, he had pulled her shoulders so that she could look at him.

She squinted against the darkness, using the moonlight as a source of light to stare into his beautiful blue orbs.

“I would fuck you, but I won’t do it when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“You are, because-” he grazed his thumb against her bottom lip, and she had to hold her breath. “You’re not this open to me when you’re sober.”

“Isn’t it more fun, though? To fuck when you’re drunk?”

“I’d only do that if you’re my girlfriend.”

“So can I be your girlfriend?”

“I’ll think about it tomorrow,” he smiled, and pushed her back to face the ceiling. “Now sleep.”

“What if I want to become your girlfriend now?”

“JJ will kill me.”

“Can you kill him back?”

“(Y/N),” Rafe sighed, being so tired of going back and worth with her on this. Of course he wanted to touch her, more than anything else in the world, but he couldn’t do it when she was in a state like this. “Go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good girl.”

“Okay.”

He waited a few more minutes, ready to answer any remarks, but what came after was only her soft snores. He sighed in relief, leaning on his arms as he stared at her. He watched as her chest heaved peacefully, feeling all kinds of emotions at once, and he finally realised the truth;

This time he wasn’t playing; Rafe Cameron would never bring a girl to a fancy hotel for nothing other than sex, but here he was; refusing her teasings, and keeping her safe. It finally hit him; he would bring (Y/N) anywhere if that’s the only way to keep her smile.

He shut his eyes, making a mental note to make fun of her drunk state in the morning.

#Part 2

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[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

Ranch Hand: Chapter 4

Farmer!Veteran!Bucky Barnes X Teen!Reader (Small town and Farmer AU)

Series MasterList

Series summary: You ran away from your nightmare of a family, you found a small town, population 200. In this town you meet a retired army veteran turned farmer who hires you as farm hand. Only mystery will you two be able overcome your pasts together.

Chapter Summary: Bucky doesn't answer the door, you have to go get Steve.

Series Warnings: Mentions nightmares, Child abuse, mental abuse, physical abuse, war, swearing, mentions death by cancer, mentions of alcohol and illegal substance abuse. please tell me if you see anymore!!! But do so politely please.

Chapter Warnings: PTSD, mentions nightmares. Nothing graphic in this chapter.

Divider: @skylightlantern

You yawned this isn't going to work. You've been sleeping in a woods. You feel disgusting but the nearest motels are in town and you can't make that ride every day. But you don't work tomorrow so maybe staying in town and showering, sleeping in a bed would be a good idea. Just for the night. You shook out of your thoughts realizing you have to start on your way now or you'll be late. You check your bag making sure the old steel toe boots Bucky gave you were still there before you grabbed your bike. And began pushing it out of the woods. Where you sleep is only a little bit down the road from Bucky's drive way so you don't have to go far.

Now in that old brick house, Bucky was sitting in his room on the floor. He had a blank stare on the door, he woke up from a bad nightmare early that night. He doesn't know when he sat on the floor in front his closet door. He keeps seeing memories from when he was a soldier and he can't get it to stop. A knock on the door startles him but he does move. It's like he's frozen to the floor.

When he didn't answer you tried to open the door. It was locked of course. You sighed his truck was here. You look around noticing the chickens weren't out of their coop. He does that before you even get there normally. He goes in gets their eggs and puts them in the fridge in his barn. And his barn is locked, you can't do anything without him. You sit on his porch for what seems like it's forever. But in reality it was only an hour. You were starting to get worried. You knocked again but he never answered. you climb on your bike and hurry down the drive way. You were gonna get Steve or someone to help. You didn't really know where you were going but you know it's pretty much a straight rode back into town.

Half an hour later you're in town riding around. You sigh this is hopeless. Or you thought, you catch glimpse of Steve's truck in a driveway. Probably his house. You know it's his truck because it has a sticker American flag on the back window, and a Army sticker on the tailgate. You go up to the house and knock on the door. It only takes a couple minutes before Steve opens it.

"Y/n? Shouldn't you be at Bucky's working?" Steve asks.

"I waited there for over an hour he never opened the door. The chickens weren't out of their coop. He does that before I get there." You said.

"And you came to get me?"

"What was I supposed to do call you? I don't have your number. And I don't know anyone else in town."

"Put your bike in my truck I'll get me keys. I'll come check." Steve said. He knows Bucky better then anyone, he also knows Bucky lives and breaths for that farm and the animals on it. He wouldn't just skip a day of taking care of them.

"Yes sir." You nodded grabbing your bike and pushing it back to the truck. You now realize you can't put your bike in until he opens it.

Steve comes out and unlocks the truck you open the tailgate. Steve walks over helping you put it in.

"So how did you find me?" Steve asked as he drove you two.

"I was just riding around town hoping for the best then I saw your truck." You explained.

"Alright when we get there I'm going to grab the barn keys and you go do your chores. And get the eggs too." Steve told you. It's better that you don't follow him in, because he doesn't know what he's going to walk into.

"Okay."

—

Steve walked into the house. He didn't shout, just in case Bucky was in the middle of an "episode". Steve heads up stairs he enters. He sees Bucky on the floor hiding his face in his knees, mumbling something that Steve can't make up. Steve slowly approaches.

"Bucky?" Steve asked softly. Bucky looks up at him. His eyes are glazed over with tears.

"They're coming get down Steve." Bucky stresses.

"No no look we're not back there anymore, we're on Pap's farm." Steve said sitting next to bucky.

"No no we have to get down they're gonna get us!"

"Bucky look at me. Ready breath." Bucky listened.

"We're on the farm. Not in the field."

"Oh." Bucky sighed.

"You okay?" Steve asked.

"Yeah... Why are you here?" Bucky asked resting his head on his friend's shoulder.

"Y/n came and got me. She's doing the chores."

"Okay."

"Lets go get you something to drink. Where's your arm?" Steve asked.

"I take it off at night." Bucky explained standing up.

"Okay Buck."

Taglist: @rachaelswrites @killerqueenfan @lukajim @lrosenblut26 @depressed-barnes @worldssidechick @littleolive24 @cute2043 @skycaliforniaart @idk-whats-happend @mischiefsemimanaged @retiredfromglad @katopotato06 @xennityxen @bucky-boo-bear @thekillingjoke-haha @sunny-the-kitsune @hanainneverland @buckymydarlingangel @ducks118 @rexs-twin-dc-17-blasters @evans-stan-thirstthots @whore-4-thor @i-have-no-life-charlie @babbsissuperblij

[readerstories]

Horse Whisperer - Tommy Shelby x male!reader

This got so long so quick. Hope you enjoy! (AO3)

Warnings/tags: boss/employee relationship, friends to lovers, fluff (link to bonus smut at the end)

Wordcount: 3418

Request: Tommy x m reader R is good with horses. Rides and takes care of them, but Tommy notices him when he is able to calm down a horse that went completely wild. He finds himself intrigued in this 'horse whisperer'. They share their love for horses and it develops into love for each other. That leads to secret meetings, one pulling each other to the side for quick kisses, riding together etc.

Horses have always been the one animal you gravitate towards. Cats and dogs were okay, but they were nothing compared to horses. You loved them and as you got older, you found yourself working with them, and over time, gaining a reputation for being a hard stable worker who treats the animals well. Which is how you find yourself working on the Shelby estate, taking care of the Shelby family’s horses.

You rarely see any of them, and you have yet to meet Thomas Shelby, your employer, since the stable master had been the one to hire you. You don’t mind, as the horses are your number one priority. You have of course heard about them all, the rumors, the brutality, everything, but they seem to care about their horses, so you don’t care about anything else.

The first time you meet, or rather see Thomas Shelby is when the farrier comes to the stable to check over and shoe some of the horses. It’s a day with some bustling activity as horses are moved back and forth, but it’s all going well.

Until the last horse. A grey stallion named Tom-Tom you had warned them to be slow with, and that they shouldn’t move or even touch him without you there. You know him well. The horse gets nervous easily, and several hundred kilos of a nervous horse is bad news for everyone involved.

Which is why, when you return from taking a piss, you swear as you notice two stable-hands leading him out of his box.

Tom-tom is already agitated, so you increase your pace, keeping yourself from running or shouting just knowing that would make everything worse. It doesn’t help however, as seconds later there’s a loud clatter from somewhere in the stable as something is dropped, and Tom-Tom has had enough.

He neighs loudly and trashes around, the two men leading him barely hanging on to the ropes fastened on either side of his halter. Not deterred and panicking more by the second, Tom-Tom neighs again, this time rising up on his hind legs.

This time the ropes are dropped, and when his front is back on solid ground, Tom-Tom starts running towards the stable door. People dive out of his way, in no way thinking about trying to stop the panicked animal. Only one of the two stable doors were left open, but now Tom-Tom busts the other one open with his shoulder. Someone yells out in surprise on the other side and you swear, taking off after Tom-Tom, not even bothering to yell at the stupid idiots who took him out his box. You will get to them later.

Seconds later you’re outside too, eyes quickly landing on Tom-Tom where he’s pacing, almost running back and forth on the large open space in front of the stable. You quickly note the two men in peaky caps next to the stable door, which must have been the ones to yell, but you pay them no mind, all focus on Tom-Tom as you try to get the horse’s attention.

“What the fuck was that?” One of the peaky men yells, mustache quivering.

”Shut the fuck up or the horse is going to get worse you sod.” You purposefully try not to yell, but your voice comes out forceful nonetheless. It looks like he’s about to say something more, but the other man puts a hand on his shoulder, seemingly to stop him. It works, and you turn your attention back to Tom-Tom.

He is still pacing, not calming down in the slightest. You call his name over and over again as you slowly, every so slowly, creep closer to him.

A few feet away you stop, reaching out a hand towards him.

A few more strides, then Tom-Tom slows, before finally coming to a stop not far from your outstretched hand. He is still nervous as you approach once more, legs twitching, ears flicking back and forth, frothing ever so slightly at the mouth. You keep your voice low and even, talking to him as you get closer.

“That’s it, good boy. You doing better now?” When your hand makes contact with Tom-Tom’s mule, his head snaps up just once, before he puts his mule back in your hand. You move it slowly upwards, tracing your fingers up to his forehead, close to his mane.

“That’s it, that’s it.” You almost whisper, walking just a little bit forward so you can move your hands along his neck, ignoring the ropes for now. You talk slow and low, praising him for calming down and not running away as you slowly move your hand along his neck.

Tom-Tom moves his head so it’s over your shoulder, putting some weight against your shoulder and back.

Your hand moves from his neck down to the shoulder he banged into the stable door on his way out. It feels alright, slightly warm, but you can’t be sure nothing is damaged before walking him around for a bit.

Still being slow, you take a few steps back, Tom-Tom moves his head so you can look at him again. You untie one of the ropes from his halter, letting it fall to the ground, before gently starting to lead a slightly less twitching Tom-Tom away from the stable.

You hear the peaky man from earlier say something, you’re not sure if it’s directed at you or your companion, but you don’t care. You however feel eyes burning into your back, so you glance over your shoulder, your eyes connecting to intense blue eyes watching you from under a peaky cap.

----

A little while later, you return Tom-Tom to his box, satisfied that he will most likely be fine, though you will need to keep an extra eye one him for a few days. Then you talk to the farrier and get him to agree to return in a week, a smart man after having worked with horses for long.

After that, you find the two morons that took Tom-Tom out of his box without you. They were currently cleaning saddles, but you stop them in their work. Standing just inside one of the two doors to the rooms, you give them a verbal lashing. It’s at the tail end of this that Tommy Shelby finds you. You see the eyes of both boys grow wide, and one of them actually interrupts you.

“Uh-”

“What?!” You bite out. The boy doesn’t answer, instead pointing behind you. You turn around and leaning in the doorway is the man with the blue eyes from earlier.

“What do you want?” Blue Eyes raises a brow.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving these boys a reminder that they shouldn’t be stupid and do things they shouldn’t when they have been told multiple times not to do something.” Your tone is clipped, annoyed with the interruption. Blue Eyes doesn’t seem faced.

“Is that so?” He flickers his gaze to the boys behind you, and before you can really process what’s going on, the other door to the room slams behind the boys as they make themselves scarce. Blue eyes give you a once-over. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

“I recognize the cap, you’re a peaky blinder, but other than that I got no fucking clue.” You cross your arms over your chest, the man almost seems like he is having fun.

“Is that a tone to take with your employer?” His tone is neutral, face much the same except a little twinkle of something you can’t recognize in his eyes.

“My employer is the stable master.”

“And his employer?”

“Thomas Shelby.” His brow is raised yet again, and a few seconds is all you need. “Ah, evening Mr. Shelby.” You uncross your arms, fishing out your cigarettes from your back pocket, taking one out.

“If you want to fire me for not being polite earlier, there are easier ways.” You offer him a cigarette, and to your surprise he pushes of the door frame and takes it. You light your own, then hand him the matches so he can use them. The flame dances briefly over his face as his attention is moved away from you, but just seconds later you got eye contact once more.

“I’m not here to fire you.” He says in an exhale of smoke.

“Then why are you here then Mr Shelby?” Your smoke mixes with his as you ask, wondering what this is.

“Please, call me Tommy.” You nod, furrowed brow, but Tommy keeps talking. “I just wanted to see the man that managed to calm down a wild horse.” You snort, already forgetting to even try keeping your response or tone in a fitting way for when talking to your boss.

“He was hardly wild Mr Sh- Tommy, he was just scared. I worked with Tom-Tom enough that I knew that, and I knew how to calm him down.”

“Still, an impressive feat to calm down a panicking animal.” Tommy’s eyes flicker all over you, and you suddenly notice how close he is standing to you. Every time either of you takes a drag of a cigarette, you can almost brush a hand against the other, smoke mingling as you talk. You take half a step back, unsure yet again of the situation you find yourself in. Tommy notices, but doesn’t comment on it other than a barely there tilt of his head. He seems to be sizing you up for something, but you have no idea what.

He mirrors you then, taking a step back too. A last drag of his cigarette before he stumps it out on the ground.

“I will see you around.” He doesn’t let you respond, out of the room and gone in seconds.

----

You don’t have to wonder much or long about what those words meant, as you do actually end up seeing him more after that little incident.

A lot more actually.

Before that day you had never even seen the man, but now, you see him at least once a week, if not more. He’s around the stable more, sometimes talking to the stable master, other times preparing for a ride, however the weirdest times are the ones where he comes around with an excuse to talk to you.

The first time it happens is a few days after the incident with Tom-Tom. He just wanders up while you are cleaning out his stable and asks you about him. You glance up at him, unsure why he is asking, but you start talking about Tom-Tom. You liked your job and talking to Tommy, your boss, was a sure way to keep that job. You end up talking through all your cleaning, and when you try to excuse yourself to do other work, Tommy insists you keep on talking, not letting go of you quite yet. You find it strange, but you do as you’re ordered.

That was the first time it happened, but not the last. Tommy will find you wherever you are, tell you to talk about something, most of the time the horses in the stable. You do so, and he mostly listens, sometimes coming on with comments or even stories of his own.

Surprisingly, Tommy loves horses too. You had thought he was just another rich man that had a lot of horses just because he could, but he genuinely seems to care about the animals. You sometimes see him feed them treats, giving them extra pats and attention when he thinks no one is looking. Hearing him talk about them is great too, sometimes he even smiles when talking about them, which you learn is something he doesn’t do a lot of.

Over time, your friendship of sorts grows strong, and you find yourself looking forward to the days Tommy comes to see you. It is a distraction from your work and the horses, but you don’t mind.

----

It’s night, and for once, the stable is quiet, almost no activity going on. Some horses are moving around in their boxes, and you can hear some animal rustling the bushes outside, but other than that, you’re alone with your lamp.

One of the mares, Lady, is only days away from birth, and to be on the safe side, you had suggested for you to watch her in the night. None of the others had wanted to do it, but you and the stable master were both content with it just being you. You know the old man is not long from retirement, and he was not about to stay up late when someone else he trusts can do it.

The only thing about doing night shifts like this was how boring and lonely it could be. Sitting on a hay bale outside Lady’s box, you try to enjoy or at least not mind the quiet. For a little while you had entertained yourself and Lady by humming, and even singing, some songs you knew.You tire of that quickly however, and have now settled on letting your thoughts wander before you try to find some work or really anything to do.

So when you hear quiet steps nearing the stables you are instantly on alert. No one else is supposed to be coming, and it’s still far until morning. The steps get closer and closer, before one stable door is pushed open, creaking as it reminds you that its hinges need oiling.

The first you see is a puff of smoke, and then Tommy enters the stable. He puts out his cigarette on the wall, throwing it outside, already aware of your ire for smoking near very flammable hay.

“Evening.” Tommy says, sounding weirdly formal for it being the middle of the night.

“Tommy, what are you doing here?” He keeps silent as he walks over to Lady’s box, peeking into it. You stand up so you're next to him.

“She looks about ready to go.” Tommy comments, keeping all of his attention on the horse except a brief glance at you.

“She is, which is why I’m here. But again, why are you here?” The silence stretches as Tommy says nothing, moving to lean his arms on the edge of Lady’s box. Lady doesn’t seem to care, as she munches on some hay.

“Couldn’t sleep.” The admission is quiet, almost like Tommy didn’t want you to hear him, so you pretend you didn’t. Sort of. You know he can use a distraction, knowing your own mind being like that when you’re the one who can’t sleep.

“Hey, let me show you something.” Tommy has to move back as you start to open the sliding door. Lady shifts her attention from her hay to you, blowing out some air from her nose.

“Come, come.” You say to her, reaching out your hand. She slowly takes a few steps towards you, pushing her nose into your hand, blowing some more air.

“Good girl.” You give her a scratch and then move out of the doorway of the now open box, letting her walk past you, into the hallway and right next to Tommy. Lady barely spares him a glance before walking towards the stable doors. You tug at Tommy’s arm for him to follow, grinning as he seems to be watching Lady with some skepticism. Opening the stable door for her, Lady slowly walks outside, stopping not far outside the doors, giving you time to close the doors behind her before she starts walking again.

You quickly catch up to her, as her steps are slow with how heavy she is. Tommy is quick to follow, walking behind you at the slow pace Lady has set. You can see Tommy thinking, glancing between you and her as you walk.

“And you still do not want to call yourself a horse whisperer, ey?” You snort.

“No, this is no horse whispering, this is trust built up over time.” Tommy doesn’t respond, so you let the silence linger, just enjoying the company. You let Lady steer the direction as she usually does, taking you on a short route that will lead you around some of the paddocks.

“It’s good for her to walk like this, both for her and the foal.” You tell Tommy, mostly to have something to fill the quiet night air with. He nods, seemingly lost in thought with his hands in his pockets as he walks beside you

It doesn’t take long before you return to the stable. Although Lady liked these walks, she  would only walk for so long with how big and slow she was. She patiently waits for you to open the stable doors for her, going straight for her box as she gets inside. She gulps down some water as you push the door to her box closed.

Lady peaks outside so she can take the small piece of apple you offer her. You offer the other piece to Tommy, who takes it, and in turn, offers it to Lady. She takes it, munching on it as she lets out a small neigh. You smile at her, then at Tommy.

“I think she likes you.” Tommy is watching her, slowly raising his hand towards her. She lets him pet her for a little bit before moving away, moving into her box, away from the both of you.

“I think I like her too.” Tommy’s voice is quiet and it’s only when he turns his head towards you that you realize how close you are to him. You perhaps only inches apart, closer than needs be in the deserted stable. Tommy is watching you with a look that you don’t recognize, eyes intense as his focus is solely on you.

“I-” Whatever you were about to say is lost as Tommy raises a hand to cup your cheek, surprisingly gentle for a man with such a fierce reputation. But that is also not what you know him as, is it? You know that he loves horses, that you like talking to him, that he is seemingly content to walk with you when he can’t sleep, that he-

Your thoughts are cut off when Tommy leans forward to press his lips to yours.

The kiss is short, barely there, you aren’t even really able to process it’s really happening before Tommy leans back, gauging your reaction

You don’t know what to say, so instead of even trying, this time it’s you who leans forward to capture Tommy’s lips with yours. He is quick to respond, the hand not holding your face pulling you in by the waist. Not to be outdone, one of your hands goes to his ribs, the other to his hip.

His lips are firm against yours, intense and hungry.

He pushes you and you go willingly, letting him push you against the nearest wall, not stopping to kiss you, introducing his tongue, letting him slowly coax your mouth open.

Which would have been wonderful to continue, but in that moment Lady decides to remind you both that it’s her box you’re leaning against and that she would like some peace and quiet. To do this she lets out a loud neigh, causing the two of you to jump, breaking the kiss as you almost jump out of your skin.

“Lady!” You chastiste her, all you get in response is a huff of air and her turning around so her behind is towards you. You huff too, focus returning back to Tommy. He’s watching you once more, letting his eyes wander as his hands stay on your face and waist. He’s warm and firm against you, making you want to stay like this for a good while longer.

“She doesn’t take kindly to being disturbed when she is trying to relax.” Tommy raises an unimpressed brow.

“Is this her or your way of telling us that we should take this elsewhere?” You give him a brief kiss, not letting him deepen it.

“I wish I could, but I need to stay and watch her, it’s my job.” Tommy sighs, leaning back and letting go of you. You wish he hadn’t, the night feels colder already.

“Another time then?” Again, gauging your reaction with intense eyes. You smile and nod, which gets an ever so slight smirk in return.

“Well then, good night.” Without more preamble, Tommy walks towards the stable door. He lights another cigarette, giving you a brief glance while doing so, before slipping out into the night.

----

(Bonus smut that has nothing to say for the plot of you want it)

[swearyshera]

You seem to have a number of fans who consider your work superior to the original show in one or more aspects, even asking and hoping for you to fix what they consider to be wrong with it. How do you feel about this and do you consider your take on the show to be better than the original?

I am genuinely humbled by people who think that, and thank you, to those who do. But I'm not trying to compare my writing to the original, nor be a 'fix every problem' sort of thing - though I do appreciate that some people are happy with what I've done in that area.

Way back in December 2020 when I had this idea, it was nothing more than "Catra should be allowed to say fuck", and my original thought was just to caption some of the more well-known scenes with extra swearing in. That developed into me thinking I could start right at the beginning and see how far I got before I got bored, and initially it was 'here's the script, I'll add in some swearing to it'.

It wasn't until the third or fourth episode that I started going a little further away from the original script, and I really enjoyed doing it. And over the months since, the characters have all developed into their parody versions, the storylines have been adapted into what they are, and, yes, I've changed some bits.

I think it's important to note that, by the very nature of what I'm doing, I can't make major changes to what happens in the show - Catra will still activate the portal, Entrapta will still be on Beast Island, and Catra and Adora will save the world at the end with a kiss. And I don't want people to have the idea that this blog will fix everything that they found issue with. Everyone will find their own little problems, that's the nature of such a widely-known, popular show, and they'll all have their own ideas of how to make it better. No-one can please everyone all the time.

But that said, I have done a couple of tweaks to the story (and I will continue to) where I think it maybe wasn't its best. And that's not a detraction from the original writing - all of these things came about when fans interpreted them in different ways to how they were intended. It is impossible for a screenwriter to know exactly how everything will come across to every viewer, and that's the nature of writing to a large audience. I hope nothing I write ever comes across as 'I hated the original and I can do better', because (at least the first part) is not true - I loved the original show and that's why I am gently (sometimes heavily) mocking it.

As for whether I consider my take on the show to be better than the original? Honest answer is yes and no. It's a very different animal, and I'm not restricted by time constraints or having to write for kids or distributors, so it's not fair to compare them really. So in respect of the extra freedom I have, and the different direction this goes in, yes, it could be better in some ways. But, at the same time, the original show has done all the hard work of plot and pacing, I'm just walking in with some different lines, different characterisations and minor story alterations - there's no way this blog is on the same level as the original.

Although I am more than happy to join the Dreamworks writing team if they ever want to make more She-Ra. Or anything else, really - hire me and I'll write funny stuff for you!

[secretbangtnn]

Best Of Me | One

Pairings : →ot7 x reader, poly!BTS x reader

Genre : → vampireau, yandere!au, age gap, gore, obsessive behavior, ddlg/caregiver, poly, fantasy, supernaturals

summary : It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

notes ~

So im not really as happy as i wanted to be with this chapter, but its the first one that i needed to translate. Suprisingly Its easier for me to write the whole thing myslef than translating it from my native language. + Remember to leave something and im happy to say that we can start an ask game with the characters from my books

next

Surprisingly this day was awfully ugly for such a beautiful season. Heavy rain was falling on the ground creating the big sheets of wall with those millions droplets that practically covered the whole view outside of the freshly cleaned window.

Tired sigh pierced the quiet, as for the household members, house only causing the weird tension to increase that was there from the early morning. Dark hair of the boy moved with him, now facing the cold, wet window.

Hyung…” Groaned the boy crashing on the couch closing the eyes in the process a little frustrated. Walking just next to him, a little taller man with bright yellow hair, looked at the dark haired one with a tired stare.

“I don’t have time Jungkook, go torture Yoongi or something.” A snort came out of the older one after the not so innocent proposition, as he kept carrying the big basket full of clothes.

And again he was alone. The youngest of the brothers, being the one who never knew what to do with his free time, wandering in the halls and every couch he could spot in their cosy house. His dark chocolate hair falling on his face, a little too long for his liking, but he was too lazy to actually do something with them.

Again that not happy groan left his lips, and wriggling similar to a child that did not get a toy he wanted, in the end forcing him to sit on the couch with a big pout. It was not normal in this household, the whole quiet and calm act, especially considering the residents he shared the home with.

They are more similar to animals than gentelems that appreciate a quiet time. So the weird atmosphere was definitely an unsettling thing for the youngest.

Again looking at the dark view outside the window, he tried to see the cause of all of this. Completely as if something was meant to happen, like the quiet before the storm.

And let me tell you, Jungkooks 6th sense never fails. Just as he thought that maybe just maybe this time he was wrong, a ring echoed in the whole household.

“Someone is gonna open it?!” He shouted being too irritated to even do it himself, despite being the closest to the doors.

Of course, nobody answered. So angry he was at this moment he got up from a nice cozy couch and with heavy steps he came to the big chunk of the wood.

He opened the door not that gently, mumbling an annoyed “what?”

So how irritated he got when he saw nothing, a void, the same doorstep and gate that stood there everyday, now with a big wall of rain to spice up the view. He looked around, now a little confused, while thinking that maybe someone was in the mood for jokes. But how stupid the idea of that was when he remebered, that for his hundreds years of living in this world the first time that actually someone managed to make fun of him was today.

And oh god he started to get so pissed.

So imagine how shocked he was when just before he closed the door he heard a really unusual sound coming from his feets. Unhappy sobs rang in the quiet afternoon immediately attracting his attention.

The young vampire was more than shocked, looking at the child in the pille of pastel colored blankets. Small sobs now increased in a big crocodile's tears with disturbing sounds of the kids crying.

“”No, no, no, please be quiet, we don’t want to wake up the old, ugly, moody grandpa. do we?” He panicked, whispering the words to the child that now laid in his arms. He just prayed that the actual old vampire really didn't take up because of the cries.

As the kid started to calm down, he stared at it with an unreadable emotion. It was a weird feeling, holding the delicate creature in his arm, knowing that just one wrong move, and the child would never cry again.

So what was that feeling that stirred down his stomach as the little creature grabbed his finger with a big open mouth. The sick emotion only made him panic even more, while looking back inside the house.

He decidied,. Sneaking was nothing new for his ninja move, and he strongly believed in his skills of not getting caught with a surprise in his arms. In the end the spiderman socks were a good choice, as their soft material made nearly no sound on the floor.

His stress level went higher with each step that brought him closer to the room that he knew he could not miss. The sound of a knife and cutting rung in his ears is similar to the music in horror music he likes to watch, now making him understand a feeling of pure fear.

Eyes closed while praying that the blonde man won’t turn around catching him in his act. But how wrong he was to believe in such a miracle. Nothing and absolutely gets past Kim Seokjin.

“Jeon Jungkook…” He died, completely freezing in place. Not opening his eyes he waited thinking that maybe it was just his head messing with him, and the blonde boy never actually turned to him. “What have you done again. If I need to clean the mess once again from the ketchup, I'm not going to…”

And as Jungkook thought that nothing can go worse, the little chil laughed a happy giggle while making the grabby hands for his bracelet.

“Jungkook?...What exactly are you holding?” The question like a knife cutted the heavy atmosphere in half. The silence just after that louder than everything he has heard before. He was even sure that he felt his nonexisting heart stopping. “Did you fucking steall a child?! I can’t be…”

“No! It’s not like that I swear I found it on our doorstep.”

“Do you really think think I am that stupid? How even the child could just appear there hm? Rolled there or better flyed on its plush unicorn?”

“Hyung, please you are going to wake up others.” He didn’t even hesitate to beg, looking at the blonde with such terrified eyes. The child in his arms happily munching on his bracelet completely unaware of the tension.

“Why would I care about others! You brought a child Jungkook, how can i be calm!?”

Dark haired unconsciously looked around with gritted teeth, now just waiting for the rest to appear. And he did not need to wait long, as just after he looked back at the blonde, someone came from the other side of the kitchen door.

Tall man with peachy hair and raspy voice, trying to get rid of the rest of his sleep, now scratching his head with confused expressions. Who wouldn’t be confused in this place, seeing a literal child in a house full of old vampires.

“What is this mess all about? You know what hour it is?” Said the tallest one. Blondie one only snorted as if offended while crossing his arms. “What?”

“Nothing.” Oldest mumbled irritated. The tallest only raised his brow, and repeated the question once again. Jungkook being now forgotten with the child trying to catch his attention with little sounds. “You dare to remind me of the hour?! Do you know how many nights I didn’t sleep because of you! If I just could silence you for good, you would have long ago ended like the voldemort, yes i'm talking about that nose of yours”

The taller one immediately touched his nose gasping not believing in what he just heard, now trying to silently disappear from the harash stare of his older brother.

As the peach hired one hid behind a counter, the attention now came back to the snaking Jungkook. More pairs of footsteps rang in the quietness of the home, slowly showing other people.

“Jin-hyung is angry again? What happened I want to see.” Announced the newcomer, sliding on his perfectly white socks.

“Who is angry here?! You want to see how angry I can be you...you…”

“You silly goose?”

“No that's to lame.”

“Dipshit?”

“You dipshit! Thank you Namjoon.” He finished with a red face. The newcomer only rolled his eyes, while making the shortest of the brothers that came with him laugh.

“Since everyone is here…” The tallest started.

“Wait, where is Yoongi.” Asked the red haired one, while leaning on the counter with a mysteriously made coffee.

“Here.” All of them shouted, hearing the sudden voice, and seeing the new person that appeared with a lightning of thunder. “So what’s this mess about?”

Everyone in the room simultaneously looked at the dark haired boy that immediately stopped in his tracks hoping for some power that could help him disappear. All the eyes slowly drifted down his arms, now staring at a bundle of blankets that started to move as if it knew of the attention.

“What is that?” Asked the tallest looking straight at the irritated blonde.

“Don’t ask me, I’m not the one that gives such a stupid example, making those idiots steal children.”

The kitchen is now again quiet, all the eyes on the little creature in the arms of the youngest. Only sound now being the child starting to sob again, making everyone tense.

“Shut it up you morons.” Said second oldest, annoyed at the loud cries. The blonde didn’t waste time, knowing how bad noise is for the black haired. Small body now shuddering because of the sobbing making the oldest coo at the little child.

His arms soon hold the bundle of blanket, trying to calm the kid down with his baby voice. It wasn’t hard to get lost in its eyes, them being mysterious and full of innocence, drawing up the blonde one. His big hand now on its red cheek, trying to feel the texture of the soft skin under his fingers.

And as the cries never happened, the child started giggling again trying to grab Seokjin hands with such a beautiful smile. It was a really soft sight to see making them all calm and giddy inside. But as the child opened its mouth Seokjin's smiles disappeared.

“What the matter?” Asked Namjoon a little bit taken aback by the change of his hyungs mood. The oldest only looked back at the rest of them with a terrified expression.

“It's a human.”

[negasonicimagines]

Tell Me I'm Not Funny

Request: darkandmysteriousbutheartofgold!ellie and wholesomeanddoesn'tunderstandwhyelliedoesn'tlikeher!reader where they're both part of the friend group but ellie just thinks reader is straight and messing with her pls

Notes: I don’t usually write MCU!Peter, so if he comes up in any future fics (like as the reader’s stepdad 👀 I’ve loved spideypool longer than I’ve loved Negasonic) you can safely assume it’s Andrew Garfield. But, for this time, this is MCU!Peter. Everyone in the friend group is 18-20, just to be clear.

This really isn't my best work, but it's a fun little slice of life piece. A lot of my ideas are pretty cinematic, I can picture them in my head but sometimes those pictures don't really translate into words. I may revisit this one day.

Warnings: D-slur (reclaimed by Ellie in one line), allusions to prior assault (an unwanted kiss that could've been more had another character not stepped in), and that's about it. Oh, and a little swearing, but this is an imagine for a character from Deadpool. If you can't handle swearing, you're on the wrong blog.

Synopsis: You’re into Ellie, but she’s with your good friend Peter. She treats you like you don’t even exist, and in the few instances she does acknowledge you, it’s usually just to make some sarcastic remark. You’re head-over-heels, though, and decide to deal with your unrequited love by writing her a song she’ll never hear.

“Fuck, that movie was terrible,” Michelle groans. “I’m just glad it was a matinee show and we didn’t have to pay as much to see it.”

“The special effects were good, but can’t Disney just leave stuff alone?” Peter agrees.

“Next thing you know they’ll be making a live action Toy Story, as if the original wasn’t traumatizing enough. I don’t want to imagine Watermelon as a sentient being. She’s seen some shit,” you snicker.

“Who’s Watermelon?” Ellie asks with a dark chuckle, and you clam up. How had you forgotten she was here?

“Oh, uh, nobody.”

“Don’t tell me you still sleep with a stuffed animal,” she snarks. “You really do need to grow up.”

“Don’t be mean, Ellie,” Peter protests.

“Watermelon is cute, everybody likes cute things!” Yukio adds.

“I think a live-action Toy Story could be cool,” Ned says. “It’d look really good if they did stop-motion animation.”

“Oh, you’re right!” you chirp. “It’d be quite the undertaking, but it would look badass.”

“I think you’re using that term a little loosely,” Ellie grumbles, and you have to stop yourself from frowning, instead you laugh it off. Why does she always pick on you? Sure, she’s got a witty remark for everybody, but she’s way harder on you. It hurts, she really is so gorgeous and funny and mysterious and everything you want in a woman, but she acts like she can’t stand you.

Ellie and Peter head off together, Peter still hasn’t gotten around to getting his license and Ellie seems happy to give him a ride. You really don’t stand a chance.

You and the others pile up in MJ’s SUV for some late-night band practice.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you admit to Yukio in the furthest row back.

“You can,” she insists. “You’re a way better singer than Lola, anyways.”

“I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong impression, I-”

“For the millionth time, Y/N, you didn’t. If she hadn’t left the band, we would’ve kicked her out. Not just for cheating on me, but for hurting you.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “Why can’t you sing instead?”

“Because I’m flat.”

“Yukio, breast size doesn’t have anything to do with singing ability, you’ve just gotta practice,” you joke.

“Shut up!” she giggles, punching you in the arm. “Plus, when you sing, the songs are being sung as they were written. We’re getting the real feelings.”

“Speaking of… I have something new I’m thinking about sharing tonight. Do you mind if I text you the demo?”

“Ooh, a first look! Hell yes!”

You text her the audio file and she puts in a wireless earbud, nodding along. Her smile gets wider and wider as she listens, and when she’s done, her assessment shocks you.

“Oh my gosh. You’re into Ellie.”

“What?!” you squeak. “No way!”

“You are! But, uh-”

“Don’t even say it. I know I don’t have a chance in hell. She only tolerates me for the sake of you and Peter.” Despite the gloominess of your tone, Yukio gets a mischievous glint in her eye, it confuses you. But, that’s just Yukio. Her thoughts are all over the place; she and Ellie balance each other out that way. They dated a couple of years ago, but it didn’t work out. They decided they were better off as friends.

“Screw that other song, we’re using this as the lead single. Everybody’s gonna love it, do you have the sheet music?”

“Yeah, uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Awesome.” Yukio’s grinning like she’s won something. Is the song that good? “We’ll have to practice this one a lot, we definitely need to have it ready by the concert this Friday.”

Right. Liz’s 19th birthday party. Apparently Peter had convinced her to let the band play, it’d be cheaper than hiring a more established artist.

“Our first paying gig? I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you remind her. She scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“We’re mostly gonna be playing covers of Liz’s favorite songs, and she only has so many. We’ve gotta beef up the setlist with originals, and this is perfect! Has that pop-y fun vibe, it’ll fit right in.”

“Yeah, but if it’s that obvious how I feel about her after one listen-”

“Only because I already had a hunch after Daft Pretty Boys,” Yukio clarifies cheerily, and you sigh.

“Fair enough.”

The gang makes it to Michelle’s house, travelling down to the side door and going into the basement from there. MJ’s parents have encouraged her creativity from day one, and were ecstatic when the band was formed. You speculate that they’re mostly happy that she’s made friends. Writing and photography can be lonely hobbies.

“Y/N has something new for us!” Yukio chirps.

“That fast?” Ned’s surprised as you hand him the sheet music. He skims it. “Holy shit, this is a wicked solo! Thanks, Y/N!”

“Well, I’m hoping highlighting everybody else’s talent will disguise my lack thereof,” you chuckle.

“Don’t be stupid, we’ve all heard you sing backup,” MJ says. “You’re Ryan Ross, she’s Brendon Urie. I’m just glad we booted her out before she decided she was gonna be the only pangolin in The Pangolins.”

Everyone laughs at that.

“Let’s try it,” Michelle continues, and everybody agrees. After a sound check and a few runs of the song, it’s still clumsy, especially on your part. You’re not really used to playing and singing at the same time, outside of backup vocals, which require far less focus.

“I suck,” you mumble, but it happens to be into the microphone.

“You don’t!” Ned insists.

“With that attitude, we’re not going anywhere,” Yukio says. You hate it when she gets to the tough love stage of her support. You wish she’d stay in the shallow reassurances stage, it’s easier to brush off. “You wouldn’t be the lead singer if we all thought you sucked. We would’ve just put an ad in the paper. You’re awesome, get over it!”

You sigh.

“Fine. Thank you.”

“Say it,” she insists.

“I’m awesome,” you huff, it’s hard not to smile when Yukio tries to look serious.

“Damn straight,” Yukio says. “Or, I guess not, considering that was about Ellie.”

“Yukio!” you squeal.

“That’s about Ellie?!” Ned exclaims.

“Obviously,” MJ scoffs, fiddling with her tuners.

“Is it that obvious?!” You can’t help but feel embarrassed. Ellie probably knows exactly how you feel, maybe that’s why she dislikes you so much. Her boyfriend’s stupid friend has a crush.

“Wait, but at the beginning…” Ned trails off, before laughing. “Oh my gosh, I get it.”

“Get what? Oh… Y/N, have I ever told you how much I love you?” MJ asks.

“I- I love you, too?” You’re puzzled by their words, but you’ve got enough on your plate.

“Let’s go ahead and practice some of Liz’s favorites while we’re here,” Yukio suggests. “It’s a pretty big set list.”

You practice until dinner, getting a pizza and deciding to make a night of it since it was a little late for Michelle to be dropping you all off at your assorted residences.

You all sleep on a pallet in the basement, and despite your worries, you manage to get some rest.

Over the next few days, The Pangolins practice at every free moment, until it’s finally time for the party.

“So, just pictures of everything?” Oh, shit. She’s not supposed to be here. How are you supposed to sing that song with her here?

“Yeah! I know with how many people are coming, I’m probably not going to get as much time as I want with everyone, so pictures will be a good way to remember the night.”

“Why not just invite less people?” Ellie wonders.

“I want all my friends to be here,” Liz explains. “How’s the sound check going, Y/N?”

“It’s going great,” you say into the microphone, demonstrating the quality and volume with a smile. “Thanks for letting us play here tonight.”

“Well, Peter said you guys are great. Are you really gonna debut your best song so far tonight?”

“Oh, um,” you stutter, stepping away from the microphone. “Maybe not.”

“What? Oh, come on, please, it’ll make the night even more special! You’re playing covers of all my old favorites, sing me my new favorite!” Liz presses, but she’s not being demanding or bratty, she seems genuinely excited.

“If the birthday girl says so, who am I to say no?” you concede. Hopefully Ellie will be too distracted taking pictures. “You have way too much faith in me.”

“If you don’t quit with the self-deprecation, I’m gonna duct tape your mouth shut,” MJ interjects.

“But, Daddy, how will I say my safe word?” you tease, giggling at your own joke with the rest of the group. Yukio’s laugh seems the loudest. Ellie glares.

“We should practice a song!” Ned suggests.

“Ooh, a private show!” Liz seems excited.

“Any requests?” you ask her. Ellie’s resting scowl intensifies. If she’s more pissed off the more you open your mouth, you’re not sure how she’s gonna survive a night of you singing without going nuclear.

“Oh, oh, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, please?”

“You’ve got it,” you agree.

The song goes smoothly.

“What happened to the old singer?” Ellie asks, clearly unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell her?” you ask Yukio, grateful for the excuse to turn away from the sharp-tongued girl you adore.

“Didn’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Yukio explains. “She already makes enough rude comments towards you.” Yukio leans over her drum kit to give Ellie a pointed look.

“Oh, wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that. You, uh, sound good, Y/N.”

You can’t help but whip your head back to look at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“What?! It’s true,” Ellie defends herself.

“Uh, yeah, but you just said something nice. About me. Liz, do you mind checking her for a fever?”

Liz obliges for the sake of going along with the joke before quickly withdrawing her hand.

“Jeez! I know you were kidding, but she’s burning up,” Liz declares.

“My internal temperature is higher due to my mutation,” Ellie quickly explains, looking a bit bashful. “Besides, I say nice shit about Y/N all the time.”

“No, you don’t,” the whole band says in unison, including you.

“Well, clearly I shouldn’t if everyone’s gonna make a big fucking deal about it,” she retorts, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna go get some pictures of the decorations before there’s a bunch of fucking people here to block them.”

She stomps off in her heavy boots, and The Pangolins get back to work, putting on the final touches and making sure all the blocking looks right.

Soon enough, guests start flooding in, and Liz zips around to greet them, eventually meeting up with Peter and keeping him with her. He and Liz eventually pull Ellie away from her picture-taking, confident she’s done enough and needs to just relax and enjoy the party.

So much for distracting herself with work, she thinks.

They sit on the couch and eat, the dining room was monopolized by The Pangolins due to its elevation and space.

Ellie’s mesmerized by the way your fingers move until she hears Peter talking to Liz. They really are a cute couple.

“You really do need to hang out with us. Yukio told me Y/N thinks Ellie and I are a thing,” he says.

“Gross, you’re like my annoying little brother,” Ellie remarks.

“And you’re like my bitchy older sister,” Peter retorts with a shit-eating grin.

“Both of you, quiet! They’re about to play the new song. You’re in for a real treat, Ellie.”

“What does it have to do with me?”

Liz gives Peter a confused and slightly irritated look.

“I haven’t said anything to her, I didn’t know how,” Peter squeaks, blushing a little at the look in his girlfriend’s eyes.

“Explain, quickly,” Ellie demands.

But, then you start to sing again.

“Y/N-” Peter starts.

“Shut up.”

“But you asked-”

“I said, shut up,” Ellie insists.

“You know me as your boyfriend's goofy friend. I seem to have this effect on women, and your friends aren't as goofy as I am. I try my best to keep you entertained, always laughing at the jokes you are saying. I nod my head when you make a point, oh oh…

“Kiss me, kiss me with your eyes closed! Whisper that your heart shows all I want is you, yeah, you… Hold me, hold me I'm your bunny! Tell me I'm not funny, tell me I’m legit! ‘Cause I feel weak, in your hands and your feet… A precious end, I’ll never feel your touch…”

Ellie continues to listen to the song, all expression drained from her face. All the yearning in the words and your voice, all you want is…

Ellie looks at Peter, who’s looking at her with a triumphant smile.

“I told you.”

Ellie feels like she’s about to faint. She notices you’re talking to Liz— when did she leave? —your hand over your mic. Despite the knowledge that Liz is taken, Ellie gets jealous. You look so happy to be talking to Liz, to just about any girl you talk to.

She wishes you’d smile at her that way.

You nod at whatever Liz said, and the band starts packing away their instruments. Liz sets up her phone on some Bluetooth speakers, and songs that sounded so much better when you were singing them start to play.

No! Ellie internally protests. Sing for me again, please, sing that stupid song about how you think I don’t like you.

Yukio’s dragging you somewhere. Gosh, Ellie wishes it was her holding your hand.

Suddenly, though, you and Yukio are approaching her. She knows what she has to do.

“So, what’d you think of our- Eek! Finally!”

Ellie parts from the kiss to tell her to fuck off and not ruin the moment before kissing you again.

“Holy fucking shit,” you breathe. “Uh, I thought you were-“

“Dating Peter?! Seriously?! Do I need to write ‘dyke’ on my fucking forehead? I practically already have with the way I dress and act and-”

“I, uh, I try not to make assumptions,” you mumble, fingers touching your lips.

“I’m, uh, sorry for not asking.”

“No, it’s- It was good. I’ve wanted you to do that for a while. It’s just that that was the first time somebody’s kissed me, since, uh…” Your eyes dart to Yukio, who’s ruffling Ned’s hair and laughing.

“Yukio?!” Orange flickers in Ellie’s eyes for a moment, but she keeps it under control.

“No, no, of course not, uh… The old singer, Lola. She and Yukio were dating, but apparently I was the one she really had her sights on, and… She was entitled. Thought that because she wanted me, I must want her. That wasn’t really the case, I was already pining over you. Didn’t stop her from forcing a few kisses on me and trying to go further. If Yukio hadn't shown up early with cupcakes, I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“I am such an asshole,” Ellie says softly. “Can I kiss you again? The right way.”

“I’d say what you did before was pretty right, but sure,” you consent.

Her kiss before had been rough, needy, and impatient. Just the way you like it. This, though, this is gentle, soft, and exploratory. You tangle your hands in her hair and kiss her harder. She moans into the kiss before pulling away, bewildered.

“That was…” Ellie trails off, trying to find a positive adjective that won’t sound to frilly or lovesick.

“A mistake, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, fuck, no. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” she corrects you. “Just- Didn’t really know how. Even when you were kinda flirting with me at first, I just thought you were messing with me, so I- I am so stupid.”

“So am I,” you scoff. “I thought you were dating Peter.”

“I was spending a lot of time with him, but… I was just using him as an excuse to avoid you so I wouldn’t embarrass myself anymore. And I was asking him for advice. I figured if he could land somebody as far out of his league as Liz, maybe I stood the slightest bit of a chance with you. But I kept fucking it up. I’d just get so nervous, all of my compliments would turn into insults, all of my teasing turned into straight-up cruelty. I don’t know how you actually like me.”

“I’m a little bit of a masochist, I’ll admit,” you tell her. “I’m really glad you don’t hate me.”

“I’m really glad you don’t hate me,” Ellie replies, but she can’t help but think that what she‘s really saying is ‘I love you, too.’

She takes your hand, and you two rejoin your friends, swept up in a group hug. They wanted this to happen almost as much as you two did.

[alittlelove4u]

pretty woman

„in 12 years, please stay away from me“

including: Kakucho Hitto • Hanma Shuji

warnings: suggestive, sugar daddy, swearing

note: I watched „Pretty woman“ a flew days ago and now I can’t stop thinking about the Bonten members with a pretty „trophy wife“

note02: maybe I got a bit lost, that’s why they’re a bit long

You were grocery shopping, accompanied by your housekeeper which Kakucho insisted to hire for he didn’t want you to do all the work, as you overheard two women talking behind you.“She’s such a gold-digger! The poor man couldn’t even mourn about his wife before she threw herself at him.“ one of them was saying, whereupon the other one sighted.“I know. He even hired an assistant for her! For what? She just lays all day on the couch!“

Before you could listen to another word Usagi, your housekeeper, comes back with the vegetables you needed for the dinner. All day you had these two women and their words in your head, giving you an uncomfortable feeling. You used to work in a café before you met Kakucho but now he pays for everything you want - not that he would mind, he loves spoiling his baby but it makes you feel like a gold-digger and as if you were depending on him.

You were so deep in thoughts, that you didn’t even hear someone come in until you felt a hand on your shoulder.“Hey, Honey,“ he smiled at you, leaning over the couch to give you a kiss, noticing your expression with a frown between his eyebrows.“How was you day?“ he asked, in hope to find out why his love is in a bad mood and how he could make you feel better.

„As usual,“ you murmured, putting down the book you have tried to read. The man next to you put his head in your lap, so you could play with his hair.“Where is Usagi?“ he asked as he noticed that he didn’t saw her stuff in the entrance hall, but you only murmured a quiet answers, still in thoughts.“Sent her home.“ It made his chest sting to see you so worried and tired.

„I’m gonna get a job!“ you announced suddenly, finally looking down to see his reaction. Kakucho was confused but also amused.“Baby we’re vastly rich and you know I like spoiling you,“ he finally answered with a smile.

„That’s not the point!“ you said in a stern voice, making him sit up and lose his smile.“I wanna be independent! I’m not a fucking gold-digger!“

„And what do you wanna do?“ he asked with a serious expression on his face, whereupon you laid back.“I thought, I might go back to school.“ You always wanted to go to university and get your degree but never had enough time and money for it.“You know I always wanted to study […]. If you’re okay with it.“

„If I am okay?“ he asked in confusion, as if you’d ever need his permission to do any.“Why wouldn’t I?! Baby I’ll always support your decisions!“ He beamed, dusting every concern off your mind.

„Let’s look at some universities, tomorrow morning!“ he suggested happily, covering your face with kisses.“But first you tell me who called you a gold-digger so I can drown them in the Arakawa.“

[ let’s just pretend Hanma is part of Bonten bc they make my brain go brrrrr ]

As usual you visited Hanma in his office for you were in the area anyway, running errands or rather just shopping. As you walked into his office, a smile appeared on his lips and he leaned back to take in your appearance.“Sweetheart if you keep showing up here, I’ll never get done with my work,“ he grinned, placing a kiss on you lips as you took a seat on his desk.

„As if you aren’t just sitting here and playing with your phone all day, anyway,“ you laughed,“But I brought you coffee and take out.“

„I should just marry you,“ he said, grabbing the container with food for he was starving and you have brought him his favorite.

„You know I like rubies more than diamonds,“ you joked as someone knocked on the door, walking in like some uncultured animal. You didn’t know the man walking in but as he saw you sitting there a grin grew on his face, making you uncomfortable.

„Look at that,“ he laughed, stepping closer, whereupon you got off the desk, stepping closer to your boyfriend.“Hanma you basdart, you even have a pretty doll bringing you food. Just don’t fuck them without a condom, you know how these bitches like to chain you down and bleed you out.“

„I’m going, I still have some errands to run,“ you whispered into Hanma‘s ear, trying to hide how disgusted and hurt you were by his words. Before your boyfriend could even say a word you quickly walked out. 

As if you’d ever do such thing! You angered yourself the whole day even when Hanma came home you were still in a bad mood.“How was your day, Baby?“ he asked, hugging you from behind as you were purring you a drink.

„Like always, yours?“ A smile grew on your face as the man behind you started kissing your neck.“Had to murder some asshole,“ he murmured, making you shrug back at his words.

„What happened?“ You tried to stay calm, remembering that it’s just a part of his job now but it didn’t stop you from worrying.“Some idiot disrespect my Baby,“ he said as if it was the most devastating crime someone has ever committed.

„You shouldn’t have done that,“ you murmured, turning in his arms so you could look at him, noticing his confused look.“Why not?“

Because he was right, you wanted to say. You met Hanma as a stripper and even though he says he loves being your „sugar daddy“ you did feel bad for spending all his money sometimes.“I wanna go back to work,“ you claimed out of the sudden, making him laugh.“You hate working.“

„Shuji, I’m serious!“ With a stern look you freed yourself from his arms and put down your drink.“So you wanna dance again?“ he asked, the thought of you dancing for someone else than him, making his blood boil.

„Fuck you, Hanma.“ It wasn’t like you loved to be a stripper but at least you felt a bit independent earning your own money.

„No, go on! Maybe your old club needs a veteran to show the new girl which man has is willing to pay their rent“ he fired back, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it in front of you.

„You can sleep on the couch tonight, you fucking asshole.“

When you woke up the next morning in an empty bed, was your mood still down but you tried your best to look for jobs on the internet. Sadly there aren’t many options for a dropout and Hanma was right, you hated working and would rather just enjoy your life. You quickly closed your laptop as you heard someone coming, remembering that you didn’t visit him in his office that day.

„Here,“ Hanma said in a cool voice and handed you a folder, leaving out any loving gestures.“What’s this?“ you asked, eying the folder with suspicious and anxious looks.

„You wanna work again,“ he answered with his hands in pockets as you opened it, looking down at the papers.“It’s the building we bought last week and Mikey wants to open an orphanage, some charity shit,“ he explained still in a monotone voice.“It’s has nothing to do with the other business and you’ll be in charge of the project. Earn your own money and all that.“

You closed the folder and stood up, crossing your arms.“Are you still angry?“ he asked, trying to hide his nervousness for being on bad terms with you always feels like he’s in hell.

„No,“ you answered,“ You if you ever disrespected me again, you’ll never see me again.“ Hanma quickly nodded, a smile growing on his face as you stepped closer to place a soft kiss on his lips.“Never! I’m sorry, Baby,“ he murmured into you shoulder and holding you close.

[carolinaflicker]

birthday girl - calum hood

pairings: calum hood x reader

summary: it’s the reader’s 24th birthday, and somehow she can’t seem to keep her hands off of calum

genre: smut with a hint of fluff

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, PROTECTED sex (wrap it before you tap it), slight daddy kink, teasing + degradation, calum being hot, also female pronouns!

word count: 1770

The faint smell of hairspray sat densely in the air as she checked her reflection one last time. The red on her lips sat bold, and the black material running down her body clung tight. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, doubtfully swapping the combination before huffing and leaving them be.

She stared at her own face in the vanity as she began to lightly run her fingertips over every bump and blemish that held her skin prisoner. Before being able to pick apart every inch of her body, her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle call in the living room of her flat.

“Love, are you almost ready?”

She turned her head swiftly as she heard his approaching footsteps, seeing Calum appear in the doorway.

“You know it’s your birthday, right? You’re kind of the expected guest.” His low chuckle resonated through the room.

Her eyes scanned his face as if it would be the last time she saw him. Y/N found herself doing this frequently, and every time she would find something she hadn’t seen before. This time it was a small freckle just under his bottom lip.

She enjoyed these moments with Calum, the little things that made every day with him a new one. She’d never loved someone as much as she loved him and, quite like her boyfriend, once thought she’d never find it.

It was Calum’s teasing smile and quirked brow that prompted Y/N to realise she was staring at him and, with reddened cheeks, quickly turned to make herself busy.

“You look beautiful.” His hands fell upon her shoulders from behind, and she bathed in the comforting smell of his familiar cologne.

“So do you, handsome.” She said, smiling at him through the mirror.

Calum reached down to give a swift peck to the crown of her head before walking away, giving his girlfriend a gentle reminder of the time passing.

Placing her emergency kit into her purse, Y/N finally noticed the trousers that Calum had chosen to wear. Green and blue plaid adorned the muscles of his thighs, wrapping and moving in just the right places to make her palms sweaty.

She took incredible interest in the way the black shirt he’d tucked in was slightly unbuttoned to reveal two silver pendants resting on his toned chest. Her heart began racing as she fantasised kissing every inch that she could see.

She suspected he had picked these ones specifically for her birthday, knowing they were her favourite. Probably also knowing exactly how they made her feel.

After slipping her final foot into her heels, Y/N turned the light off in their shared bedroom and set her sights on seeking out Calum.

Finding him stood at their kitchen counter she took quick steps over to him, not hesitating to run her hands up his exposed chest to let them rest around the back of his neck.

Calum released a hum of satisfaction when his girlfriend planted her lips on the side of his neck. Placing one hand on her hip and the using the other to gently grab her chin, he pulled her gaze up to meet his.

“Was this morning not enough for you, princess?” When he received a shake of the head, he continued. “Oh and not at breakfast either? And then after the shower. And then-“

Y/N pulled his lips down to meet her own, not worrying in the slightest about the red stain she would leave after.

“C’mon, Cal,” She all but whined, “I need you.”

“And isn’t your life so hard, darling?” He tutted at her mockingly with a small pout, before squeezing her hip and walking away to grab his keys.

Calum let out a loud laugh when he heard Y/N’s dejected mutter about being the birthday girl.

———

The party was in full swing; people flooded every inch of the bar they had hired out, celebrities and friends alike. Shouted words were being exchanged over the bass of the music playing and shots were being thrown back like water.

Calum leant at the bar, nursing a drink in his hand, paying little attention to the story that Shawn Mendes had been telling him for the past 10 minutes.

Instead his gaze was focussed on his girl dancing across the room, happily being spun around by Luke and Ashton to the tune of Dancing Queen.

He had been watching for a while now. Seeing her like this with his band mates never bothered him, in fact Luke was the very reason Calum and Y/N knew each other at all.

Having met Y/N two years prior, Luke had invited her to his 21st knowing just how well she would get on with the bassist. Calum had thanked Luke more times than he could count for this, wondering every day how he had managed to find Calum his perfect half.

Now at his girlfriend’s 24th birthday, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away. Not out of jealousy, but rather out of pure want. He’d scanned the way her figure moved around the dance floor so many times he was almost dizzy, but that didn’t stop him.

As the music faded and the beginning chords of Wicked Games played through the speakers, Calum excused himself from Shawn quickly and made his way over.

It didn’t take him long, as Y/N soon felt a pair of familiar hands touch upon her waist, and she barely had to look back to recognise who it was. She released her hold on Ashton’s hand and turned her body around fully to face her boyfriend.

“Well hello, stranger.” Y/N’s face gleamed at Calum’s in the dim light.

“Hey, gorgeous. Having a good time?”

He could barely hear the happy sigh that left her mouth over the music but felt a warm feeling spread in his chest as she announced, “The best!”.

Brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, he leaned down to whisper, “You wanna make it even better?”

The excited look she was giving him quickly turned darker, as she took her own turn to whisper.

“Show me what you got, handsome.”

Ignoring the cheers from Luke and Ashton, Calum grabbed Y/N’s hand, pulling her from the crowd. The woman had to stop herself from all but pouncing on her boyfriend then and there, instead giving a polite smile to Michael and Harry, who seemed to be in an animated conversation.

Y/N thanked every entity she could think of that the bar they’d hired was nice enough to sport separate bathrooms. She sure wasn’t quiet with Calum, yet with the music blasting and their own room, she doubted they’d be heard by anyone.

Rushing in and locking the door, Calum immediately lifted his girlfriend onto the counter. As if by magnets, the two grabbed at each other, kissing like their lives depended on it.

Y/N reached a hand into Calum’s curly hair and pulled, releasing a groan from the man’s mouth. As she attempted to grind against him further, he pulled away and took hold of her by the neck.

“Look at you, pretty girl. One word from me and you’re ready to drop your panties. When did you become such a slut?”

The fingers wrapped around her throat seemed to send the blood rushing faster to her core, a desperate, incoherent mewl escaping her lips.

As she reached down to unbuckle the belt around his waist, he was quick to pull her hands away.

“Not yet. Gotta take care of the birthday girl, right?”

“But I want you, Cal.” She cried.

“Shame.”

He tapped her waist, indicating for her to lift her hips slightly, as he pulled the hem of her dress up to her stomach. Dropping to his knees, he tossed both of her legs over his shoulders, getting closer to the ache between her legs.

Tantalisingly slow, Calum pulled the lacy thong she was wearing down her thighs before stuffing it into his back pocket.

Finally giving her what she wanted, he placed his hot tongue onto her clit, moving in slow circles. The moan that left Y/N’s lips was pornographic, and her hands immediately flew to grasp onto Calum’s hair again.

“I wanna hear you more, love.”

As if on cue, her whines pitched higher and higher, matching the muffled sound of She playing outside.

Increasing in pressure and speed, it didn’t take long for Calum to make Y/N a mess. He knew every curve of her body, every sign of pleasure and, equally, every sign of discomfort. With his knowledge, it never took him long to have her writhing underneath him.

“Calum!” She called, “I’m gonna-“

He stopped.

“Beg.”

Looking down in disbelief, Y/N found him fully content in not touching her until she gave him what he wanted. Huffing loudly, she tried to reach for him again in desperation.

“I’m pretty sure I gave you an instruction, baby.” He scoffed, pulling away even more.

“Fuck, Cal!” She released her stubbornness, “Please let me cum. Please!”

He immediately returned to his previous actions, making her cry out. Her body shuddered and she moaned as Calum finally let her release. She felt dizzy against the mirror, her face stinging from the intensity of her orgasm.

Giving her a check over and a chance to catch her breath, Calum reached down to unbuckle his belt and open his trousers. Stroking his shaft out of his boxers, he looked at the woman again.

“You ready?”

“Just fuck me, Cal.”

Earning a smug chuckle from the man as he pulled out a condom from his pocket and slid it on, she grabbed onto his shoulders as he took her words as gospel, pounding into her with no hesitation. Low grunts and swears left Calum’s lips as he thrusted deep and fast.

Y/N reached down to gently rub her now sensitive clit, releasing a cry as a certain thrust hit just the right spot.

Before she could stop herself, she released a series of incoherent whines, followed by Calum’s name as if in prayer.

“Fuck, daddy!”

Y/N’s regret immediately began to seep into her bones. This was a kink that she had quite happily kept to herself and for 3 years had been worried of Calum’s reaction if she ever brought it up.

This regret dissipated immediately however, as her boyfriend’s rhythm grew sloppier and harder at the name. Soon the room was filled with obscene cries as they both reached their climaxes, collapsing onto each other.

“Well,” Calum said after a breath, “You’ve never called me that before.”

This earned him a weak punch to the shoulder, the woman in his arms giggling lightly.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

[iamdeku]

Little Patch of Heaven: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

A convenience store au in which a certain explosive blonde is your boss, and you have a little crush.

Warnings: age gap! There is a slight age gap here between Bakugou and the reader. Reader is meant to be about 20, while Bakugou is 26-27-ish. This isn’t a huge gap, but if it makes you uncomfortable please don’t read on. Also sexual innuendo and a sleazy guy hitting on you.

You weren’t sure when you had started crushing on your boss, of all people. It had all started off very innocent, a friendship with the ornery man you had wanted to like you. That was all you had wanted. For him to not actively hate you like he did everybody else.

Somehow you had ended up here, throwing furtive glances his way, afraid he would catch you but unable to stop. While he worked the register you stocked the shelves, taking the time to admire him. The muscles in his arms flexed beautifully when he turned items to scan them, and you swear the red light of the scanner highlighted the veins in his arms like that was its designated purpose. Light filtered through the window, the beams hitting his white blonde undercut and fluttering through your heart. You couldn’t be doing this.

There were, as far as you could figure, three main problems with your crush on Bakugou Katsuki. The first was that he was your boss, and you had a strict policy against dating coworkers after watching your best friend in high school date a coworker and have a disastrous breakup resulting in her refusing to step foot in the local mall. Yeah. It was that kind of bad.

Second, Bakugou Katsuki hated everyone, and you weren’t an exception. Sure, you were pretty sure he didn’t hate you the way he hated everybody else, but that didn’t mean he would ever feel the same about you as you did about him. The biggest problem of all, however, was his age.

He wasn’t that much older than you, but what with you working this job while attending college and him being a fully functional adult man who had long passed his college days, you knew he would only ever see you as a kid. It was one of those unfortunate facts of life you’d prefer to ignore.

That being said, you weren’t short of suitors, oh no. Working at a convenience store like this, there were plenty of sleazy guys who liked to come by and pick on you when your boss was nowhere to be seen. You usually just ignored them, trying to make the best of it and laughing it off. Sometimes though, they got bold.

Bakugou had gone into the back room to check something out, and you were covering for him on register when things took a turn for the worse.

A gruff looking man who was probably in his mid-40’s came in, and the moment he walked through the door you could smell the alcohol coming off him in waves. He reeked of drunkenness, a fact that filled you with dread. You hoped he was harmless.

He headed straight towards you, and you felt every muscle in your body tense up. The store was basically empty right now, which did nothing to comfort you.

“Hey sweetheart. A pack of cigarettes, if you please.” He leered, leaning against the counter.

You shrank back, trying not to be too close to him.

“Sure, what kind?” You asked, customer service voice still firmly in place despite your disgust.

He specified what he wanted, and you grabbed them for him, intent on checking him out quickly so he would get out of here and leave you alone with no further incident. He had other plans, though.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

“No. Not my style.” You shrugged.

“You should. Your lips would look real pretty wrapped around a cigarette. I can think of some other things they would look pretty wrapped around, too.”

You pretended not to understand him, ringing up his total and reminding yourself he would be out the door mere moments from now without any further complications, and you would never have to think of him again. You took his cash for the cigarettes, returning his change hastily and wishing him a good day.

“Now hold on there just a minute,” he said. “You forgot something. You still haven’t given me your phone number.”

You laughed nervously, pretending and hoping that he was joking. He was not, and he stayed put, staring you down.

“I’m afraid it’s against store policy for me to provide my number to customers while on the clock,” you lied diplomatically.

“That’s bull,” he said. “If I was one of those cute little boys that come in here I bet you’d be tripping over yourself to give me your number. I think somebody needs to teach you a lesson. A little girly like you probably has a thing or two to learn that she can only be taught by a real man.”

“Do tell,” you hear a voice behind you start. “What qualifies as a real man? Because I’m pretty sure you’re slime somebody pulled out of the gutter and rolled into a ball.”

Bakugou’s voice behind you comes out as more of a growl than anything else, but the man is too drunk to register the very present threat.

“Oh, is this your little girl then? You should teach her to obey better.”

The word makes you bristle. He’s talking about you as though you’re a dog to be trained, and with Bakugou at your back like this you aren’t afraid of this man hurting you. He couldn’t even get close, especially not with your boss’s powerful quirk.

“I’m not an animal. The only person I obey is myself. I do what I want when I want, so you should leave before I decide I want to castrate you.” You spit the words with all the venom in your body.

“You’d better watch your mouth,” the man growled.

He raised a hand, and for a moment you felt the tension build in your body before another much larger hand wrapped around his wrist in a vice grip.

“You lay a single finger on her and I will blow up this hand. The other one I’ll do just for fun.”

Katsuki runs some sparks through his fingers to make his point, and you watch as the man’s face pales.

“You- I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Get out of my store. Before she makes you.”

Bakugou doesn’t need to say any more before the man is skuttling off, feet barely moving fast enough to stay underneath him. You take a shaky breath, a bad taste left in your mouth from the encounter. You hated when things like this happened, and though you could have easily taken care of it on your own you were grateful for a little backup.

“Thanks Bakugou,” you said. “I was afraid that one was going to get messy, but you never know. Sometimes they just like to play with their food.”

You shrugged, turning back to the register and going back to work.

“What do you mean?” Bakugou asked.

“Oh, you know guys like that. They’re usually pretty much harmless, but sometimes they don’t take no for an answer, and then I have to get a little strict.”

“That…happens a lot?”

The surprise in his tone confuses you. Surely a man who runs a convenience store had to know that the customers here were not always the friendliest. Or rather, they could be altogether too friendly.

“Yeah. At least once or twice in a shift. It kind of comes with the territory of working here.”

You turn around only to be confronted with Bakugou’s horrified face, and you know the sparks crackling along his arms this time are no controlled display.

“If one of those bastards ever tries anything like that again or so much as makes you uncomfortable, you come get me right away. You got that?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “I can take care of myself. Besides, it’s no good driving away customers.”

His fists clench, the silver rings on his long fingers clicking against each other. “I don’t care what you think you can do. If that happens again, you come to me.”

That pissed you off. Who did he think he was? You knew he didn’t think much of you, but you could handle yourself.

“Listen, I get it, okay? I really do. I’m just the kid who stocks your shelves. You think you need to take care of me or whatever because you’re in charge of me. Well, you don’t. You don’t owe me anything, and you might just see me as a dumb kid but I’m not. I have it handled, thanks.”

Bakugou’s mouth fell open at your little speech, eyebrows coming together in something that looked suspiciously like anger.

“You think that’s how I see you? As just a kid?” He took a step closer, very nearly invading your space.

“Yeah. I mean, that’s why you hired me, isn’t it? You felt bad for me, trying to pay my way through college.”

“I hired you because I liked you better than all of the other idiots that applied for this job. I kept you around because you’re good at it, but not only that, you’re…” he blushed. “You’re funny. You always tell really good stories about the customers. You see them in ways that I don’t, that I can’t. I probably shouldn’t say this, and you can quit if you want because of it, but I think you’re beautiful. I spend half my time working just staring at you and hoping you won’t notice. I wouldn’t help you out with those guys because I think you can’t take care of yourself. I would help you because…it’s my job, okay? I’m supposed to protect you.”

There was something vulnerable about his last words that caught in your throat as he took a step even closer, close enough to reach out and touch you. He didn’t though, wouldn’t make another move. You weren’t scared to move though.

You took one of his rough hands in yours, stomach turning in knots and face growing warm.

“I didn’t think you saw me that way. I always figured you were looking because you didn’t like me, not because you liked me back,” you admitted.

“You…like me too?”

“Yeah. Why do you think I’m always staring at you? It’s because I think you’re beautiful too. I always wanted you to like me, and at some point it just turned into a different kind of like. I didn’t think I had a chance though. You barely like anybody at all. You don’t even like your best friend. Every time Izuku comes in you yell at him.” You giggle a little.

Bakugou frowns. “I yell at stupid Deku because you give him more attention than you give me. He’s banned, actually, but good luck getting that through his thick skull.”

“I thought you wanted us to get along! I figured it would be a good way to get you to like me if your friends liked me.”

“Yeah, well, Deku likes you a little too much.” Bakugou pouted.

You roll your eyes.

“You’re a little possessive, aren’t you?”

Bakugou grinned. Confident now in the knowledge that you liked him, he caged you in, body trapped between his arms and the counter you were pressing your back up against, the afternoon sunlight streaming down and highlighting your lips, which were suddenly very close to his. He leaned forward, tilting his head just so.

“Only possessive of the things that are mine.”

He closed the gap between you, giving you a honey sweet kiss right there in the empty convenience store, your personal safe haven. If somebody had asked you before starting this job whether you thought you would have a job you loved or a boss you kissed, your answer would have been an easy no. Things had changed a little since then.

You let yourself melt into the sensation of his kiss, fingers trailing up and down the muscle hiding beneath his black tank. You didn’t hold back, having waited too long to do this. By the time he pulled away, you were both a little breathless.

“Tonight, after we lock up, I’m taking you to dinner.”

“That didn’t sound like a request,” you tease.

He looked back at you, shooting you a feral grin. “It wasn’t.”

“And if I don’t go?” You raised a brow, unable to fight off the smile playing on your lips.

“Then you’ll have to pay for your own dinner.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

Needless to say, the date went well and you did a lot more making out in the stockroom than you would have predicted, but it was all worth it to have your little patch of heaven.

[writersrealmbts]

If You Have Half a Brain

Description: Part of the summer #btswritingbingo, hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo! For the Pina Coladas prompt. You’ve been a bit down on your luck, until one of your customers, who is definitely drunk, strikes up a conversation with you and offers you a job. 

Warnings: Mentions of death, drunken antics (mild), mild language, mentions of blood/injuries (very briefly)

Posted: 06/04/2021

Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au, 

Slice of Life/Angst/moments of fluff: 11,698 words

A/N: I think it’s been over a month since I posted a story, so here’s over 10k words. Enjoy! Thanks to @kerikaaria​ for beta reading this

“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”

“Whoa, no! I didn’t even know that this was that kind of place, I mean, kudos on the confidence and I mean that in the best way because you shouldn’t be ashamed—“

“Your drink,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “It’s non-alcoholic. You ordered a virgin drink.”

“What? No I didn’t, I ordered a pina colada!”

“No, our menu doesn’t offer pina coladas. What you ordered was our Niño colada, which is from our non-alcoholic menu. I apologize for any inconvenience, but if this is you with a little bit of alcohol, then I think you should stick to sobriety.”

He stared at you, slack-jawed and blinking. “Why don’t you have pina coladas?”

You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”

He made a choked sound. “The…rum…is gone?”

“Yes. The rum is gone.” You had a sinking feeling that you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Why is the rum always gone?!” He exclaimed, flopping onto the table.

“From your behavior, I’m going to assume you’ve consumed every last drop of it, Captain Sparrow,” You replied dryly. Well, your boss was right. You were not cut out for this job. “Now, if you’re not going to order something else, I’m going to go turn in my apron and start job hunting again.”

“Wait! Wait! Do you like piña coladas?” He asked, catching the pocket of your apron.

“I swear to God, if the next words out of your mouth are anything along the lines of ‘and getting caught in the rain’ I will murder you without regret.”

His teeth clicked shut. His eyes darted over your face. “But do you?”

You took a deep breath. “I can’t stand coconut.”

“You…don’t like…coconut?” He looked horrified. “Then…coconut chicken?”

“Ew.”

“Coconut ice cream?”

“Waste of sugar and time, a lot like this conversation. I don’t like coconut. I hate it when people cook in coconut oil because saying it’s tasteless is Bull.” You crossed your arms. “New drink or what?”

He stared at you for a while, then smiled softly. “You’re too good for this job, anyway. You should work for me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come work for me.”

“Repeating that doesn’t tell me what you’re saying.”

“I own a company. I need someone who can deal with trash like me and keep them away from me. You do not have to be polite to the trash either.” He leaned his chin on a propped-up fist. “Your job would quite honestly be saying what was on your mind and telling me and anyone else off.” He looked and sounded surprisingly sober compared to before.

“Please tell me you didn’t use piña coladas to test a potential hire.”

He grinned. “Not intentionally.”

I folded your arms, trying to gauge whether or not he was being serious. “You’re not saying this because you’re drunk, are you?”

“I’m not drunk!” He argued, eyes wide. “I’ve only had one glass of wine!”

You cringed. “At least tell me it was a large one.”

“N-not particularly.”

“Oh dude, either your acting is pretty on point, or you’re a serious lightweight and should stick to the non-alcoholic menu.” You shook your head.

His already flushed cheeks turned more red. “Wha—“ he huffed. “Do you want the job or not?”

You considered it, a little surprised you were even considering it, and shrugged. “Not sure I believe you still.”

He huffed and fumbled to pull out his wallet, fumbled more, then handed you a business card. “That’s me. Call or show up or anything. My personal cards are like golden tickets.”

You took the card warily.

The side of the cards facing you had a phone number in shimmering gold lettering, and the other side looked like a splash of summer colors—Bold black lettering spelling out his name and the name of the company.

“Hoseok Jung, CEO of HopeWorld Incorporated,” you read aloud, a little…skeptical. “If you are this person, what the heck do you want me for?”

“Honestly…I need someone sensible who won’t just try to stay on my good side. I need someone who will risk their job to threaten anyone that is being ridiculous with murder. I’m bad at that. I need a spiky person cause I’m just…I have things I’m strong on, but there are times when I just need someone to say things like they are. No bull.”

“And based on our interactions here, you think that’s me?”

He nodded. “I only played up the antics a bit.”

“Do you often hire your waitresses?”

He grinned. “No, but I have found most of my best people by chance. One other waiter, but I knew him before.”

“Your best people?”

“You’ve heard of my company?”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Then you’ve heard the names Suga, RM, and V.”

You paused. “Yes.”

“Suga and I met at a club. RM and I met in a museum, and I met V when I was at an animal shelter.” He shrugged. “We had a good rapport. I offered them jobs. My friends over there are also part of my inner circle. It would have been better if you liked piña coladas, but you should still be okay with them.”

You stared over to where his friends were goofing off in the pool. Those idiot men were part of the inner circle of one of the biggest companies ever? The company that….

Two screeched as they went into the water, losing the game of chicken.

“They are part of your brain trust? Is the one even old enough for alcohol?”

“Yeah, he just tends to pick people up when he’s buzzed.”

“So, scandal prone.”

“No, no, I mean physically lift them. Usually just us. He’s not really a social person. Just us.”

“Ah.” You weren’t sure what to make of that.

“Actually—“

“Y/n! I’m not paying you to stand around!”

“With all due respect, sir, I’m done after I finish discussing our menu with this gentleman, Sir.” You called back, then turned to Hoseok. “How much would I be paid?”

“To start...how about $16 an hour?”

You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”

“Plus benefits, we have an excellent benefits program.”

“$16 an hour?” You repeated, a little shocked and numb. Plus benefits, even if you only worked there for a week, you’d be able to cover all of your expenses.

“Alright, okay, fine, $18 an hour—but no more than that until we know if it will work out. Then we can discuss raises. Deal?” He stuck his hand out.

You considered it for a moment, then shook his hand. “Right. Okay. When do I start?”

“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”

You nodded. “Business dress?”

He shrugged, “If you like. Just dress nicely.”

You nodded. “Fine. Okay. See you then. I have a job to quit.”

He nodded with a smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

———

If you had thought that your means of obtaining this job had been strange, nothing had prepared you for your first day working there.

You had dressed well, wearing your favorite interview outfit because it was the nicest outfit you owned and you would be shopping later today so you knew what you needed to buy.

You entered the sleek looking building, and went to the reception desk. “Hello, I was told to come in today.” You pulled out the business card and showed it to the secretary.

Her eyes widened. “Whoa. You met Mr. Jung?”

“Uhm, yes. Yes I did. And he told me to come in today, at eight.”

“Right, okay, um, let me get you a temporary I.D.so you can get around today, and you’ll have to talk to H.R. later about your permanent one. Take this, and then head up to the top floor, he’ll want you to report straight to his office. At least, that’s what protocol states.”

You nodded, absorbing the information easily. “Top floor, his office, report to HR later for a permanent ID. Return this at the end of the day?”

“Yes, thank you, and good luck on your first day!” She practically sang, going back to her computer.

You slid the ID necklace over your head and went straight for the elevator, hitting the button for the top floor.

The way she spoke was almost like she had never met the CEO, which seemed unlikely to you, but maybe you were just misreading it.

The top floor was as quiet as the rest of the building, and you had a feeling most employees didn’t start until 9. But there was faint music coming from the biggest office—the CEO’s office.

You took a breath to steady yourself and then knocked on the door.

“Come on in, y/n!”

You shook your head slightly and did as told, walking into the office.

Entering the building, you had been pleasantly surprised by the way everything seemed light and airy, with bright splashes of color in appropriate amounts in the appropriate places, making it feel less like an office and more of a...you weren’t sure what it felt like, but it felt nicer than an office.

Entering Hoseok Jung’s office had a similar effect. There were knickknacks, but they weren’t overwhelming, and splashes of color were all throughout the room, but was balanced by a sort of modern elegance of his sleek office furniture and the immense natural lighting.

“Do you like it?”

You considered it all. “It’s not to my taste, but it is well balanced and I can appreciate the aesthetic.”

He grinned. “See, you’re already doing better.”

“The receptionist acts like she’s never seen you before.”

“Oh, well, most people only see J-Hope, one of the senior workers who reports directly to Mr. Jung. That’s how I got into the business to take it over from my father.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they’ll find out that J-Hope is me, but for now, J-Hope is well-liked. My ‘brain trust’ as you called them, will be here in about half an hour, which gives us time. Come on, I’ll show you to your office. Remember, it’s not your job to make friends, it’s your job to call things as you see them.”

You shrugged. “And if that means holding my tongue?”

“Then I trust you to say something later, when you deem the time to be right.”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

He grinned. “I know that you think it’s crazy, but I’m glad you’re telling me.”

You shook your head as you followed him out, noting that he wasn’t wearing a full suit. More like slacks and a shirt that wasn’t a button-up, but also wasn’t a plain t-shirt? Very loose-fitting, possibly a few sizes too big. His slacks weren't even slack, not really. Just grey, loose-fitting pants.

“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”

He chuckled. “I know. Jimin tells me that all the time, trust me, I do when I have to. But J-Hope likes loose clothing.”

You shook your head a bit.

“This will be your office.”

“It’s right next to yours.”

“Well, you are going to be my left-hand person. Left hand office.”

You followed him into the office that was way too good to be true.

“Obviously you can decorate it as you like, outside of the desk. The desk chair you get to choose from a magazine that we use for office supplies. We also ask that you don’t break any walls or windows.”

“I have a balcony,” you breathed.

“Yeah. There’s actually a door out there that connects our balconies, my side is pretty much never locked, but you can lock your side as well.”

“Like in hotels.”

“Yes.”

“So, if I'm your left, who’s your right?”

“Suga. Yoongi. You’ll like him, I think.” He picked up a random sticky note, looking amused. “Last guy didn’t clean out very well, sorry.”

“Shouldn’t a janitor have made it in here since?”

He paused. “Oh. Yes.”

“Which makes me wonder when the last time anything up here has been cleaned.” You ran a finger over the desk, nose wrinkling in disgust at the dust on your fingers.

Hoseok’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no no no.”

“I need to wash my hands,” You said, feeling a little contaminated. “Bathrooms.”

“This way.”

The bathrooms on the top floor were actual bathrooms, as in, one toilet and sink per room instead of the public bathroom style. There were three of them, mostly the same size, but one also had a larger vanity area with drawers under it.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to follow you in, but this bathroom is one that we usually keep locked, so if you want to keep makeup or other things in here, no one uses the third drawer over right now.” He tapped it. “You’ll be getting a key to it later today, so you can put it in later if you need to.”

You nodded, wrinkling your nose at the smell of the soap. “Oh, you’re kidding me. Piña colada soap?”

He chuckled, scratching his neck. “You can also bring in your own soap. Yoongi does. He just hasn’t replaced his yet.”

You shook your head. “Right.”

“If it helps, it’s only that during the summer.”

“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”

He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”

“Are you all trying to psychologically torture yourselves?” You asked, drying your hands. “Piña coladas when you have to work, cinnamon rolls to make yourself hungry….”

Hoseok shrugged.

You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”

“Morning meeting.” He waved for you to follow him, and led the way down to a conference room. “Jimin and Tae bring coffee and pastries and we go over our agendas and projects. Today that will include introducing you. I do have one thing to ask, and it might be inappropriate so if it is you can just hit me—“

“Or you could just not ask it.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Right. Yeah.”

You helped straighten the chairs, seeing the frown on his face at how disheveled the room was. “So, what will I be doing today, besides accompanying you to fire the janitor.”

He cringed. “Well, tour the company. Stop by HR. Meet the security team. Talk to the janitorial staff and threaten firing them to improve their work ethic. Then if that doesn’t work, yes, you will be there to help me fire people.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be the bad guy. You keep your J-Hope persona.” You sighed. “Really? No one caught onto you being the CEO with the name J-Hope?”

He just grinned again. “Best disguise is right under your nose.”

“The best disguise is an effective one that actually exists.”

“I’m glad I met you,” He responded with a light laugh.

“I’ve been criticizing you since I arrived.” You actually felt guilty about that, but only slightly. You weren’t about to lose sleep over it.

He just smiled. “You’ve been honest. I…I really missed honesty.”

“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”

“They are…but they’re…it’s different. Sometimes you need to shake things up. I think we all need shaking up.”

You frowned. “Okay. Level with me: what happened?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“What happened to make you think that things need to be shaken up?”

His face relaxed, eyes seeming to glaze as they shifted to the meeting table. “I…uh, I lost someone I cared about. You know that cruise ship disaster?”

You nodded. “HopeWorld donated a whole lot of money to cover the bills of those injured, and help cover funeral bills for others. Some people wondered if you guys had some sort of stock in the cruise ship or had been involved in the explosion, but you were just being kind. Plus by helping them out financially they could stand up to the cruise company.”

He shrugged, but also nodded. “And I needed a reason to be there. Looking.”

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”

He choked out a laugh. “Yeah. And my sister and her husband. And my parents. I was supposed to join them at a different port.”

You felt like you’d been sucker-punched. “Oh my God.”

“Didn’t lose all of them. My dad is still in the hospital, Mom is home but she visits him everyday.” He rubbed his neck. “My sister's husband went back to work just a week ago, and he’s not having an easy time of it, but he’s pushing on. My sister hasn’t woken up yet, but we’re still hopeful. I hope she wakes up soon. She’s the other person I always relied on to be honest with me.”

You slowly nodded. “And your…significant other?”

“Idiot died. One of the lifeboats got stuck on release. Climbed out and cut the rope. Snapped back.” He shrugged again.

“Could have been worse,” You murmured, clenching a fist. You knew that description. You gave that description.

“Ok, this is one time when maybe you shouldn’t be honest.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Hey, my step-dad died because he thought he could swallow a golf ball and decided to try when no one was home. My younger brother tail-gated a semi. My father died from a sliver after saving eight school-age children.” You shrugged. “There are all sorts of ways to go out of this world. Doing the right thing…the heroic thing, that counts for a lot in my book. But there is such a thing as stupidly heroic.”

He stared at you wide-eyed. “A…golf ball?”

You shrugged. “I believe I implied that he wasn’t intelligent.”

Hoseok snorted and then started laughing. “I-I’m sorry!”

You smiled. “Good. Your brain trust will be here soon.”

“Did he…did he really…?”

“It was a little more complicated, and there was booze involved, but essentially, yes.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”

You shrugged. “Life goes on.”

“What does it go on from?” A new voice asked.

You turned to see one of the boys from the pool yesterday.

He looked you up and down, and offered a slight smile and his hand. “Hey. You must be the waitress that Hobi got so excited about hiring yesterday. I’m Taehyung, or, as the media knows me, V.”

You shook his hand. “Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“Do you like Pina Coladas?” Taehyung asked, setting the box of what you assumed were pastries on the table.

“No.”

He froze a bit. “Really?”

“Really.”

“But...why? Wait...oh no...you don’t like them?” He stared at the box of pastries.

You looked at the box. “Let me guess, non-alcoholic pina colada donuts.”

“We don’t normally get them, I just saw them and I thought it’d be fun….” He looked completely dejected. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I ate breakfast anyway. I had an omelet, and I have a chocolate muffin in my packed lunch in my office. So, if you would like, I can get that and you can pretend you got it specially for me because I got it from the same shop.”

He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”

“Do you want me to pretend?”

He considered it a moment.

“He doesn’t want everyone to be eating and not you,” Hoseok chuckled. “He’s sweet like that.”

You nodded. “Did the door to my office get locked?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I left it open so that you could get in and out without your keys, and so we could send a janitor in after the meeting. Maybe put your things in our breakroom for now.”

You nodded sharply.

“I’ll get it, if that’s okay with you?” Taehyung said.

You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He bounced a bit as he raced out.

“Good job, offering to lie on your first day.” Hoseok looked amused.

“He looked like a kicked puppy. I’m honest, not abusive and heartless. Besides, it’s more to make him feel good. Most people would figure it out, right away.”

Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”

“It doesn’t breach my not-yet-existing contract to lie, does it?”

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Both of you fell quiet as Taehyung came back and slipped the muffin into the box of donuts (carefully).

Then several men arrived at about the same time.

“Hi, y/n! I’m Jimin, and I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got you a chocolate crème frappuccino. Is that okay?”

You nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Thank you.” You took the cup and studied where they were sitting before taking a seat yourself--at the left hand of Hoseok--when he indicated for you to sit there.

“For the future, what do you normally drink?”

“This,” You answered, smiling. “I try to limit my caffeine intake.”

“Great, I’ll add it to my list and we can discuss alternatives later.” Jimin opened the donut box. “Tae, what have you done?”

“Pina colada donuts,” Tae answered, grinning. “And a muffin for y/n.”

Half of the boys had already grabbed a donut, or were in the process of doing so, but all seemed to freeze a bit.

“Why a muffin for y/n?”

“I don’t like coconut,” You answered, shrugging.

“Wait...at all?” One of them asked, eyes wide.

You sighed. “Nope. That is possible, you know. Just like I’m sure the odds are in my favor that at least one of you doesn’t like seafood. One of you probably doesn’t like coffee, one of you probably doesn’t like tea, and a few of you probably don’t like mint ice-cream.”

They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.

“Well….”

One huffed. “Why did you hire her again? She doesn’t even like pina coladas.”

“Not everyone does,” Hoseok replied easily. “Shall we start our morning download?”

You studied the others as they dug into their donuts, wondering where the odd obsession with pina coladas came from--not for the first time. But they weren’t the only people you’d ever met with the obsession, and you doubted they would be the last.

“Besides, it can’t hurt us to look at things other than pina coladas.”

“Please,” One of them grumbled. “I don’t want to get sick of them.”

“Fine. Then let me ask this,” the huffy one asked. “Y/n, what is your beverage of choice?”

You met his gaze evenly, calculating all of the answers he could expect and all of the answers you could give him. But one stuck out as particularly perturbing for someone like him and a situation like this.

You leaned forward, smiled slightly, and answered, “Water.”

His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”

“Water,” You confirmed cheerfully. “If I have to choose anything, I choose water.”

“Great, you can be the designated driver,” Taehyung joked, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Huffy sat down, looking like he lost five years off of his life. “No way can we do a water theme….”

“If we could get back to what we’re being paid to be here for, that’d be great,” You said, in a tone that was too sweet to be honest.

Hoseok chuckled a little. “Right. Y/n is here to keep things...possible and practical. Her job is to be bluntly and brutally honest about things. After she gets a feel for this place, I’m sure she’ll feel more comfortable giving us all a piece of her mind. She’ll be shadowing me as J-Hope, and I’m not going to announce her job title for a while.”

“Because you don’t know what to call my job?”

“Pretty much. Anyway, as you guys know, we’re...running a little thin right now, and that’s on me. We’re going to be tightening up the ship, and making sure we’re running properly. Jimin, I need finances from across the company. Tae, I need all of the reports from HR. Jin and Jungkook, I want a list and summary of all of the projects we’re working on right now. Yoongi and Namjoon: keep working on that one project. Anything I need to know right now?”

“We have that event tomorrow, with the food trucks, and we need to decide on the judges.”

“Okay, so, we let everyone who wants to judge put their name on a list, then we’ll draw names from a hat. Jimin’s on the judgement panel as well.”

“I am?”

“You’ll eat anything, the rest of us are too picky. And Jungkook will be filming.” Hoseok made a couple of notes. “I have to talk to our janitorial staff, and y/n will be with me. They haven’t been cleaning up here like they’re supposed to. Y/n’s office was disgusting, and this room was a mess.”

“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”

“He wants to see if talking to them will fix the issue first,” You said dryly. “Which, in my experience, is a waste of time. There’s always someone dragging their feet and I bet if we looked through the HR reports, or even sent me in under cover for a few hours, we’d be able to pinpoint the weak link and remove it from the chain.”

“She’s got a point. I could take her down and tell them she’s doing some work in each department. We’ve done that before, for people who were actually working for one of the departments.” Jimin clicked his pen a couple of times.

Hoseok considered it a moment while he worked on a bite of his donut, then nodded. “Alright. Then we’ll do that. You might need different clothing. If it takes more than a couple of hours, don’t worry about it. If this works, we’ll put you in different departments as though you were experiencing everything. Because I think we need a spy in the HR department as well. Plus anything you find about employee welfare and happiness, that’s always a good thing. We’ll say you’re one of Jimin’s random hires. Get it done.”

Jimin nodded, then checked you over. “They’ll give her a uniform, so we don’t need to worry about her clothing. Maybe just fix your hair so that you look more like ‘random girl’ instead of  ‘sophisticated lady’.”

“Did you just call me a lady?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.

“Anyway, finish things here, then y/n dress down and we’ll discuss your work later today. You’ll eat lunch with us, Jimin, make sure to mention that.” Hoseok wrote a couple more things down. “I’ll be in my office, reviewing things. I’ll let you know at lunch what the real plan is. We’re gonna change things.”

“Okay,” Huffy said firmly. “That’s that then. Donuts done, coffee drunk, work to do. Off we go. The sooner we work, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get a drink.”

That seemed to be the signal for everyone to get up and get moving.

You followed Jimin out, letting him lead you to the bathroom. “Sophisticated lady?”

“Make your hair more casual, maybe remove some of your makeup. And lose the jacket.”

You sighed and did as you were told as he disappeared for a moment, returning with a different shirt and a sweater.

“Try these.”

You looked at them, a little concerned.

“They’re clean, trust me. And they’re more casual than what you’re wearing.”

You waved him out of the room again, changing into the new shirt and sweater, a little disturbed at how well they fit. “Where did you get these?” You asked, opening the door again.

“Someone left them behind. Can’t remember when, can’t remember who, just remember they didn’t work here.” He checked his own hair while you switched your hair from a bun to a nice-looking pony-tail. “Can’t even remember why her shirt and sweater were left behind. Think she borrowed one of mine?”

You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”

He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”

“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.

Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”

“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”

Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.

You clenched a fist, just in case.

“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”

You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.

Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”

You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”

Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”

“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.

“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”

He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”

“He should not be allowed to drink.”

“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.

“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”

“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”

“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”

“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”

You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”

“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

-----

-----

You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.

And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.

The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.

So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.

You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.

So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.

And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.

“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.

In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.

But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.

“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.

It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.

“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”

You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.

He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”

“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”

You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.

“Please answer honestly.”

“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”

“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”

You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”

He nodded. “You were answering my question.”

You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.

“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”

“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”

“What’s on your resume?”

“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”

“So, going undercover…?”

“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”

Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”

“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”

“Gotta admire his work ethic.”

You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”

“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”

“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”

He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”

You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.

Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”

“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.

Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”

“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”

“You mean my first day.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”

“My story?”

“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”

“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”

“Ok.”

“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”

“Quality manager?”

He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”

“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”

“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”

You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”

He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”

You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”

He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”

“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”

“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”

“They might get mad at you for spying.”

“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.

The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.

“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”

“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”

He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”

He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that.

“Are you implying something inappropriate?”

“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”

You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.

“Sounds inappropriate to me.”

He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”

“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”

“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.

“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.

He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”

“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”

“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”

“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”

“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.

Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”

Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”

“Right. Right. That.”

“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”

Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.

“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.

Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”

Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”

The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.

“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”

“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”

He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”

You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.

“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”

Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.

Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”

“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.

Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”

She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.

Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”

------

You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”

“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”

“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”

“You got hurt,” He whispered.

“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”

He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.

“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.

“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”

“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.

Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”

Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”

“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned.

Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”

“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.

But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.

As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”

His head dropped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”

“I know, but I got you into this job—“

“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.

“What?”

“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.

“Um, I guess?”

You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.

“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“

“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.

He stared at the piña colada. “What?”

“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.

“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.

“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”

He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.

You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.

The bartender was looking concerned.

“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.

“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”

He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.

“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”

He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”

“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.

But both of you stopped at the door.

“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.

“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.

“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.

You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”

“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.

“You might ruin your clothing.”

“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.

He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.

No.

Like he would follow you into anything.

“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.

He met your gaze with surprise.

“Why me?”

He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

You tilted your head.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”

You could work with that.

Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.

You knew your eyes were a little wide.

He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.

You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.

Except for one tiny detail.

You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”

His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”

You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”

“How allergic are you?”

You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”

He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”

He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”

And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.

“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”

“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”

“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”

You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”

“When you said you were a virgin—”

“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”

He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”

“No.”

“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”

Huh.

“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”

You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”

“That’s still important.”

“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”

“Right.”

“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”

He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”

“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”

“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”

“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”

He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”

“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”

“Right. Inside. Good idea.”

You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”

“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”

You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”

“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”

“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”

“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”

“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”

“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”

“So you admit it,” You pointed out.

He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”

“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”

“Accidentally.”

“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”

He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”

“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”

“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”

You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.

But Hoseok had no photos in his office.

“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.

He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”

“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”

He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”

“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”

“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”

“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.

“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”

“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.

“You don’t think we could?”

“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”

“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.

“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”

“Officially take your position?”

“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”

He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.

“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”

“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”

He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”

“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”

“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.

But one stuck out to you.

You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.

“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”

You’d tilted your head, confused.

“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”

“What’s that look for?”

You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”

“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.

“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”

“You have a business degree, don’t you?”

“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”

“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”

“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”

He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”

“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”

“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”

“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”

“The latter.”

“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”

“He has?” Hoseok frowned.

“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.

“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.

“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”

“That he saw your house.”

“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”

He did, but he was frowning the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”

“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.

“Um….”

“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”

“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”

You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”

He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”

“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”

“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….

You believed him.

He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”

“Depends on the rule,” You replied.

“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”

“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”

“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Am I replacing your ex?”

He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

“I’m in their office.”

He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”

“But you loved them all the same.”

“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”

“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.

He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”

You smiled. “You know I do.”

“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”

“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”

“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”

He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”

You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”

“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”

“Not well,” You argued, frowning.

He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.

And yes.

You were.

It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.

He brought hope back to your world.

“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.

Hoseok grinned and kissed you.

Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.

[whyralltheusernamestaken]

A simple greeting

Where you find yourself trapped inside the world of what you thought was a fictional book and the only way you can leave is to say hi to your favourite character... Overhaul.

Overhaul x reader 

Warnings : swearing

Words : 872

Masterlist

Series masterlist 

A/N : I am the biggest chisaki simp and I have never even written a fic for him???? 

Chapter 1

One second you were getting off the train stop nearest to your home, surrounded by normal looking people and the next you were standing in a busy station full of people with extra limbs or bright skin colours. 

You felt your mind swim in confusion as you stayed still, feet frozen on the ground and eyes darting around the crowds. A familiar mop of green hair and freckles walked past and you quickly ran after. 

“Um hello?” you called out, reaching out a hand and grasping his wrist. 

“Hi?” he jumped, turning around and nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, letting go of his wrist and stepping back. “I thought you looked familiar, maybe not.”

“Ah,” he nodded, pausing slightly before reaching out a hand for a handshake. “Well it’s nice to meet you, I’m Midoriya.”

Your eyes blinked repeatedly, “Like... Midoriya Izuku?”

“Yeah.” he smiled. “I’m guessing you know me from UA’s sports festival?” he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t think I’ve met you before.”

You hurriedly nodded, not wanting to create unwanted suspicion. It was strange to see what had once been a 2d drawing stand before you, and gosh was the human version of him so much cuter. 

“I’ve got to go to school now, it was nice meeting you...”

“Y/N.” you smiled, bowing slightly before waving as he ran towards the train.

“Bye Y/N!”

Watching his figure disappear, you realised the reality you had suddenly been thrown into, a fustrated sigh leaving you mouth as you quickly ran towards the exit. Your eyes blurred with tears as the calls you made to people in your world  refused to go through. 

You were stranded.

~~~

Sitting down at the table of a small cafe, you took a sip from your favourite drink as a snowstorm of questions running through your mind. The worldmaster? Alternate dimensions?

You had never once considered that the people in this world were actually alive and not just animated characters. And the worldmasters quirk had accidentally brought you, who was from your dimension, into theirs?

“So...? How do I leave?” you finally asked, deciding that even though you didn’t fully believe this guy, he was the only person knowing of the fact that you were not from here. 

“Well it’s simple actually.”

“Really?” you piped up, a smile gracing your features for the first time since you had stepped foot here.

“Yeah.” the worldmaster, Haru nodded, “Since this is like a book to you, you just need to talk to your favourite character.”

“Favourite character?” you racked through your brain to see who was your favourite, your smile and hope instantly shattering as the image of a man with a plague doctor’s mask entered your brain. 

“Yeah I don’t think that’s going to happen.” you sulked, burrowing your face into hands as the worldmaster looked at you puzzled. 

“Why is that? UA doesn’t have the highest security and pro heros are always happy to talk to their fans.”

“That’s not it.” you groaned, shaking your head before taking another simp. 

“Is it a civillain?”

You shook your head once again.

He sucked his teeth in before continuing. “A villain?”

You looked at him and nodded with a sigh. 

“Well that’s not the biggest problem either. LOV is all over the kids these days.”

You srunched your nose at him. “Ew, don’t say it like that. And it’s not them either.”

“Are you seriously going to leave me hanging?”

You glared at him, before speaking quickly. “It’s the bloody yakuza.” 

He looked at you, mouth open. “Your favourite character, in the whole of our world, is in the Shie Hassaikai.”

“Shut up.” you mumbled, hiding your face as you heard his cackles ring out through the entire shop, red spreading through your face as everyone’s attention turned to you two. “Shut up you’re so obnoxious.” 

He eventually died down, before continuing. “Well, there’s no such thing as impossible, I’ll try my best to help you, after all I’m the reason your in this mess.” he sighed.

“You’d better.” you seethed, pouting from the embarrassment. “And how come you’re not helping the heros if you know everything about the past, present and future in this world?”

“I would end up like my ancestor.” he explained. “Our family, as the world masters must remain completely unbiased. In this world we are simply civilians who are socially neutral.”

“Gee, sounds kinda boring.” you snickered, placing the empty cup down on the table. “So where am I staying?”

“That’s a good question.”

“Please tell me you have an answer.”

“Well let’s get you closer to the world of heros and villains first.”

“Um, I don’t have a quirk.”

“No worries. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait no I don’t want a quirk, Overhaul doesn’t like them.”

“I can’t just manifest you a quirk.” he stated, rolling his eyes. “I mean I’ll get you to stay with one of them.” 

“What-”

~~~

You stood with your phone in hand, staring up at the dingy alleyway sign. “God I hate it here.” you muttered, wondering why the hell Haru had directed you to this musty highstreet bar. You knew you had to entually start earning money, as your mission at hand did not seem achievable in one day, but out of an entire city’s worth of jobs to apply for, the one he chose for you was... this?

You began to take a step forward before the door swung open suddenly, hitting you square in the face. Staggering a step back, your hands flew over your nose as blood slowly seeped out. 

“Shit.” someone yelled. You heard a thump to the ground and watched as he threw the trash bag onto the floor before grabbing your hands. “Hold on let me see.”

“It’s fine.” you grumbled, shaking his grip off before stepping to the side of the door to let him through. 

“Dabi.” someone screamed from inside the bar. “Hurry up and throw the trash away and get back in here.”

“Can’t you just wait a minute.” he shouted back. “Fuck um, I’ll be right back.”

He fumbled past, picking up the trash and running down the street as you walked inside, not bothering to wait for him. 

“Hi.” you greeted, everyone to turn to you perplexed as you pinced your nose, your blood messibly wiped on your chin.

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow at you from behind his father’s hand as you stood there awkwardly. 

“Wow not even a greeting in return? Rude much.” you grumbled, before clearing your throught to hopefully get rid of some of your nerves. “Um, are you hiring?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have any vacancies in your staff so that little old me could possibly occupy?”

“I know what hiring means.”

“Yeah well iI’m sure it didn’t hurt to explain it to you again.” you muttered. 

“No, we are not hiring.” the purple mist behind the counter, whom you recognised to be Kurogiri, said. “Although miss are you alright there?”

“I don’t even know.” you rasped. “Why the fuck did Haru send me here if you guys aren’t even hiring?”

“Haru sent you here?” Shigarki perked up.

You nodded and he turned to look at Kurogiri, quietly exchanging words before looking back at you.

“You should’ve mentioned that to begin with. Alright you’re hired. ”

“Excuse me?”

“Little old you can occupy the vacancy in our staff.” he deadpanned.

You huffed out before grinning at him and throwing him a thumbs up. “Epic!”

You shuffled over to the counter, peering at Kurogiri eagerly. “So when do I start?”

“You can start by wiping the tables miss...”

“Y/N.”

“Right, miss Y/N.”

“Wipe your face before you start anything.” Shigaraki muttered, pointing over to a small door in the far corner of the room. 

“Will do.” 

Slipping into the bathroom, you pulled out your phone, him picking up a few rings in. “Haru I thought you said you weren’t biased, why the hell does the league act like they’re best friends with you.”

“I’m not biased if I’m friends with both sides?” he offers. 

“Backstabber.” you quipped, washing your face.

“You know what? Enjoy your home because you’re staying with the league now.”

“You did not.” you screeched, grabbing your phone from the side as you watched him hang up. “You’re so petty you know that?” you muttered, glaring at your reflection in the mirror before exiting the bathroom. 

“Right, who’s gonna show me my room?”

[lost-in-fanfic]

The Woman - Thomas Shelby x reader (Part 2)

A/N: So here is part 2, I hope you all enjoy it. Part 1 link below. Not my Gif and please don’t steal my work :)

Warnings: Mention of killing, quiet a bit of bad language. 

A brief summary: After receiving a mysterious note, Tommy is about to meet with the woman hired to kill him. 

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Word Count: 2538

“This is fucking mental Tommy!” Arthur shouted for the tenth time that morning. After Tommy had run out of The Garrison last night without warning Polly had demanded to see the note. He had consequently spent the rest of the night, and now this morning stood in the kitchen at Watery Lane being told he was making a stupid mistake. Gripping the back of the chair, Tommy let out an exasperated sigh, his patience was wearing thin and it was time he headed to his meeting. He had been to meetings with people who wanted to kill him before, but normally he manged to get the business done without any of the others realising what he was up to. “Thomas,” Polly was leaning against the fireplace looking at her nephew, his eyes staring down at the floor, “when you get a note, from someone who won’t even give their name, saying they have been hired to kill you, it isn’t generally a good idea to go and sit down for a cosy chat. At least let Arthur and John hide in the backroom.” She was just as tired of arguing as Tommy. Tired of watching him seek out ways to find danger, it came easily enough in their lives, why did he have to always hold the door open for it? Finally, he looked up at her, then Tommy straightened up as he pulled his peaky cap onto his head, fastened his coat, and moved to the door. “Today is going to be a busy day here. Arthur and John, keep an eye on the bets and don’t forget to watch Sam Guest, he’s won a fucking lot recently and no one gets that lucky on a fixed race. Polly it’s safe count day.” He opened the door and stepped onto the street just before he closed the door behind him, he turned back and said, “and if any of you set foot in The Garrison this morning, I will shoot you myself.” With that he slammed the door and headed up the road.

Tommy pulled out his keys, finding the correct one for the back door of The Garrison knowing that the front door would still be bolted from the inside this time of day, however as he drew closer to the pub, he could see the front door wasn’t locked at all. In fact, it stood ever so slightly open with no sign of damage to suggest it had been forced. Tommy took his gun from its holster and held it up as he slowly pushed open the door, just for a second he pictured the ambush he was about to walk into and thought to himself he should probably have brought John and Arthur after all.

(Y/N) had arrived early that morning, keen to be as prepared as always. She had made a note of the heavy sliding bolts on the front door the night before, and when a small argument had broken out earlier in the night and distracted the barman, she had taken the opportunity to check exactly where the back door was and find out just how easy that lock would be to pick. This should be a day like any other in her life, but that morning she had found herself strangely nervous to meet with Tommy and regretted her rash decision to arrange a face-to-face meeting.  In her career she had developed a policy of never giving out her name and only met with people face to face on rare occasions. The only time she had broken this rule was with people she was certain would not be a threat to her in the future, such as grateful targets that she decided to let live or the odd desperate housewife. Tommy Shelby was definitely not desperate and could very possibly be the biggest danger to her future she had ever faced, yet here she sat waiting for him.

When he entered the pub the last thing Tommy had truly expected was one woman, sat on her own at a table in the middle of the room. She had moved the other chairs away from it so there was just one for her and one for him. Leant back smoking she looking as relaxed as if she owned the place and he were walking into her territory, not the other way around. This woman, however, could not have stood out more against the grey of Small Heath. Her hair was shinning in the light coming through the dusty windows, each strand perfectly in place, her bright green dress fitted each part of her body perfectly and was so stylish she would have looked more at home in one of Ada’s magazines than sat in The Garrison. Tommy was so taken aback he did not even realise he was still pointing his gun at her.

“I did promise not to kill you during this conversation Mr Shelby, I would appreciate it if you lowered your gun.” Her voice was like silk as it reached him and without really meaning to, he put his gun away, closing the door behind him. She motioned to the seat opposite her for him to sit down, but her initial spell over him seemed to weaken somewhat as he realised he was not accustomed to being offered a seat in his own pub. Instead, he walked over to the bar, leaning against it he took a cigarette from his case and rolled it over his lips before striking a match and lighting it. All the while never breaking eye contact with the woman before him. (Y/N) refused to let his stare cause her to back down, she looked straight back at him. Quickly though she realised how right she had been in thinking that meeting Tommy like this was a big risk, his eyes seemed to be seeing right into her, and she was fairly sure if one of them did not break the silence soon there was a very big chance her carefully built defences would crumble. Exhaling his first draw on his cigarette Tommy decided to take the opportunity to try and control the conversation. “Well, you know my name, seems only fair you should tell me yours.” His voice oozed with confidence and sent a thrill deep into (Y/N)’s core. “I’ll tell you what Mr Shelby, how about I ask what I need to know so I can make my decision and at the end of the conversation you can ask me any question you like, which I swear I will answer honestly. If knowing my name is still important then, I shall give you the truth. Alternatively, I could just give you a fake name now and we can go into this telling lies.” She matched his confidence with every word, putting out her cigarette as she finished, showing she was ready to get down to business.

Tommy couldn’t help but allow the smallest of smiles to tug at the corner of his mouth as he sat down opposite her unbuttoning his coat and motioning for her to continue. “As I said, I am here to decide if you deserve to die.” She began, “Almost certainly do.” Tommy’s answer cut across her, she wasn’t expecting him to speak yet, and would never have imagined that would be the answer he gave. Raising her eyebrow slightly she scanned his face, his jaw was set and eyes fixed, there was no hint that he was joking or even scared of the idea of dying.

“Mr Shelby, my client has hired me for a specific reason. I have several rules in my business and one of them is I will only carry out the contract if that reason is justified, regardless of whatever else maybe true of the person.” She paused as Tommy flicked his ash into the tray, his face was expressionless, but there was something in his eyes. (Y/N) was convinced that she had never seen a more crystal-clear blue in her life and although they seemed cold and calculating she had a gut feeling that if only she knew him better, they would be the only key to reading how he felt. Tommy said nothing, he had never been more intrigued by a woman so quickly and he wanted to ensure he paid attention to everything she said, after all this woman may yet try to kill him.

“I am here to get your side of the story, regarding Daniel Owen better known as Danny Whiz-Bang.” Whatever Tommy had been expecting her to say it certainly wasn’t that. (Y/N) noticed the way his eyes unwittingly widened in shock, once again she had surprised him putting him entirely on the back foot, she had always relished being in control of every situation and there was something even more intoxicating about having any sort of power over a man like Thomas Shelby.

The end of Tommy’s cigarette glowed as he inhaled deeply, taking the opportunity of a brief pause to get himself back in check. “Daniel Owens was killed by Billy Kimber. I killed Billy Kimber. End of story.” His voice was deep and controlled as he tried to reveal as little emotion as possible. (Y/N) leant forward slightly, the fact that he didn’t fully understand why she was here excited her. “I know that. My client is more interested in the fact he was there at all, after all you had already killed him yourself, hadn’t you?” Tommy decided enough was enough, putting out his cigarette he leant forward to match her, “who the fuck is your client?” his tone had changed it dripped with menace and power. “I told you Mr Shelby, I will answer one question at the end. Don’t worry,” she could see his eyes darkening, there were only so many times you could poke a stick at a dangerous animal before it attacked, and she felt she had pushed her luck far enough. “I only have one more question for you, why did you let Danny Whiz-Bang live?” her tone was different, she was no longer toying with him, vying for control, she genuinely wanted to know why he hadn’t just killed him. If Tommy were more of a fool, he would have thought she cared.

“Danny Whiz-bang didn’t kill that Italian, the monster that lived in the mud in his head did. He brought that monster back from France, he saved my life over there in that mud, so I killed the monster and sent Danny away so he could try and clean his head out.” It was the truth; he had known since they returned from France that Danny had no control at times. Tommy had brought his own monster back with him and the thought of what that monster could turn him into is what kept him fighting.

“Very well.” (Y/N) had listened to every word he had said, the honesty in his voice was clear. This time she found herself on the back foot, the truth concealed just the tiniest shred of vulnerability and that was something she had not expected to find. Over his shoulder she spotted two silhouettes, which she strongly suspected of belonging to his brothers, hovering by the door. “Thank you for meeting with me this morning Mr Shelby.” Standing up she slipped into her white coat and made towards the back room and the door she had come in through earlier. “Hang on,” said Tommy standing up as well, “you owe me a question remember? A deal is a deal.” His eyes were back to being their calm crystal blue, if there had been a moment in which he had been even close to vulnerable it had passed. There was, however, a slight tinge of desperation to keep her there in his voice which even Tommy wouldn’t have been able to explain. (Y/N) turned back to him and nodded. “What’s your name? I assume from your note it starts with W.” There were other more important questions he should probably ask, like if she was still going to try and kill him, but all he wanted to know was her name. (Y/N) couldn’t stop a small soft smile from forming and she bit her bottom lip to try and stop it. Every single part of her willed her to lie, or distract him, she couldn’t risk giving any part of herself to him. Not even her name was safe to give, but even the strongest woman can’t hold out fully under the gaze of those eyes. “I use the W for business. My name is (Y/N), oh and by the way I think your brothers are getting impatient.” She replied, nodding towards the door where Arthur and John were waiting. As Tommy turned to look, she silently slipped away, gone by the time he turned back.

He stood there stuck in silence for a moment, her name playing through his head like a song, as if she had placed him under a spell again. It was only a first name though and he felt cheated, he had clearly meant both names. Tommy Shelby did not like being cheated. He gathered himself together and then went out the front where Arthur and John were stood with guilty faces. “We didn’t come in Tom.” John said as soon as he walked out, he sounded like a child that had been caught going for the biscuit tin. Tommy didn’t care though, he just wanted to know where (Y/N) was going. “Round the back, she’s wearing a white coat, you can see her green dress hanging out the bottom and she’s got (y/h/c) hair. Follow her and tell me where she goes.” He barely looked at them just gave the order and began to move back to the house. “She?” said Arthur, “The killers a she?” his confusion evident. “Yes Arthur, a woman, now go before you lose her.” Tommy strode off. “Polly is gunna love this.” Muttered John. The brothers hurried around the corner looking for the white coat and green dress. “Watch out!” shouted Arthur as he turned the corner colliding straight into a woman wearing all black. “Sorry.” She muttered scurrying up the street.

When Tommy had turned his back (Y/N) had moved quickly, going to where she had left a bag earlier by the back door. Knowing she only had moments she pulled off her coat, grabbed out a black skirt that she put on to cover the bottom of her dress, turned her coat inside out so it was now black and put it on over the top. Looking down she checked that no green was now showing. Next, she took out a wig that was several shades darker than her natural colour, it pulled on easily as she gathered her own hair up. Finally, a simple black hat with a vail to cover her face. Checking quickly in the mirror she was pleased to see she looked just like a young widow, not an unusual sight in Small Heath. Leaving out the back door she rounded the corner and walked straight into Arthur Shelby, muttering apologies she moved out of his way and headed back to the boarding house.

@comebackjessica​ @nemesis729​ @spacenijntje​

[riotwritesthings]

song and dance number not included

WinterIron, T, 1.9k, crack, this is just crack, banter, vague nonpowered AU | A03

Once upon a time @gayspacesprinkles made this post. And fun fact about me I will write basically anything Ant says ahaha ILUBRO.

I know this has already been done better don’t fight me I just wanna make everything crack

Title: song and dance number not included Collaborator Name: Riot @buckybarnesbingo Square Filled: U4, One Night Stand @starkbucksbingo Square Filled: N1, World Domination Ship/Main Pairing: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags & Triggers: Crack, banter Summary: Bucky has seen some wild things in his time as a Professional Cuddle Buddy. Nothing beats finding himself in Tony Stark’s penthouse with the sleep deprived genius himself. Word Count: 1,897

-

Bucky steps off the elevator, into the giant penthouse, and he is 90% sure that this is some kind of elaborate prank. Ten minutes from now someone is going to be shoving a waiver in his face and demanding to broadcast his embarrassing surprised face on national TV.

Because no way does someone like Tony Stark need to hire a cuddling agency.

He takes another couple steps, and there’s no cameras. There’s nothing, just a giant empty penthouse, and Bucky glances down at his phone to confirm that yep, he is in the right place.

He’s just about to turn and leave when a face pops up over the back of the couch.

The first thing Bucky notices is the big doe eyes, warm brown and huge like a Disney character, but so sad. The second thing he notices are the bags under the eyes, deep and dark like bruises, like they’ve been there for a while.

The fact that he’s just staring dumbly at Tony Stark is actually the fifth thing Bucky notices, after the insane lower lashes and the fluffy hair.

Luckily the man is apparently as sleep deprived as he looks, because he just blinks at Bucky for a couple seconds and by the time he speaks Bucky has mostly gotten his brain back online.

“Please tell me you’re really not a hooker,” Tony says, squinting at him, voice rough and a little whiny as he adds “I literally just want a hug.”

Bucky sputters out a laugh, rocking on his heels as he says “I solemnly swear I am not a prostitute. Though I do give great hugs.”

“Awesome,” Tony says with a happy sigh and flails his arms up over the couch, making grabby hands at him.

“Did you wanna move somewhere more comfortable?” Bucky asks, rounding the modernist monstrosity of furniture that is the couch. When Tony opens his mouth, suspicious look on his face, Bucky rolls his eyes and says “Still not a prostitute.”

Tony snaps his mouth shut again with a sheepish look, then huffs out a soft laugh.

“This is fine,” he says, sitting up fully and patting the spot between himself and the arm of the couch, “It’s just me here, I end up falling asleep out here half the time anyways.”

Which is... kind of a sad thought, actually. This penthouse seems huge, too big for one person, and based on the dark circles under Tony’s eyes he doesn’t get much sleep anywhere.

Bucky has barely dropped onto the couch before Tony is plastering himself to Bucky’s side, surprisingly strong arms looping around his waist and his face pressing into Bucky’s shoulder.

“Okay, start the clock,” Tony says, already going limp against his side.

“Hold on,” Bucky says with a laugh, twisting to the side slightly so he can lean back into the corner of the couch and get his arms around Tony in return, pulling him in a little closer and nearly fumbling his phone in the process. “Is that comfortable, um, Mr- Ow.”

“Just Tony,” Tony says, peeking up at him sourly and removing his impressively pointy finger from Bucky’s side, “unless you want to be ‘Mr Cuddle-Buddy’, that is.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Bucky says with another laugh, guiding Tony’s head back down to his chest. “I’m Bucky, though, for the record,” he adds.

“What are you, a Disney character?” Tony asks, voice muffled as he nuzzles into the curve of Bucky’s shoulder and then quickly blurts out “please play with my hair.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be asked twice, burying the fingers of his free hand in Tony’s messy curls, soft and wild like Tony has been running his own hands through it.

“Mm, perfect,” Tony sighs as he pulls his legs up onto the couch, curls himself into a neat little ball against Bucky’s side.

Bucky lifts his phone just enough to see the screen and punches the shortcut to set an alarm for three hours. “Okay, now you’re on the clock," he says, and then wedges his phone into the couch near his head where the armrest meets the back.

“You are already getting marked highly recommended,” Tony slurs out, and Bucky laughs softly. “Seriously, you are like 90% muscle how are you this soft.”

“It’s my specialty,” Bucky says dryly and Tony’s answering laugh shakes his whole body.

“Shh, I’m mentally composing my review,” Tony says, patting lazily at his chest.

“Out loud,” Bucky can’t help pointing out.

“Yes,” Tony says, lifting his hand again to wave it slightly as he talks, “Now where was I- Ah yes, guaranteed ‘not’ a prostitute-”

“-I could hear those air quotes-”

“Very warm,” Tony continues, completely ignoring his interruption except for the way his hand flails a little harder, “Possibly a Disney character."

“Pretty sure I’m not, someone woulda told me by now,” Bucky argues, grinning helplessly and pressing his fingers a little harder into Tony’s scalp.

“Oh, you definitely are,” Tony says with a happy sigh, rubbing his nose against Bucky’s chest, “The only question is, with a name like that, you’re either an adorable animal sidekick, or a villain. Possibly both.”

“What-“ Bucky objects around a sputtering laugh, “I don’t think there was actually a question there.”

Tony tilts his chin up just enough to give Bucky a sleepy glare as he says “Well, which one is it, is the question! You planning world domination?”

“Yes. My plan begins with cuddling you into submission.”

“Well it's working,” Tony says happily, and his expression really does look lighter than it had when Bucky first got here, even if he does still look exhausted. “But when is the song and dance number?”

“Later,” Bucky says with a snort, “It’s my dramatic exit.”

“Or you gotta pay extra, right? In the back room?” Tony asks with a grin and a lazy wink that’s really more of a slow, uncoordinated blink.

“Not a stripper either,” Bucky huffs with a roll of his eyes, resisting the urge to tug at Tony’s hair.

“Too bad,” Tony says with a dreamy sigh, and Bucky really does pull at Tony’s hair a little in admonishment even as he laughs.

Tony continues his rambling ‘review’ amid Bucky’s protests until his warm, teasing voice slowly tapers away, and an hour in he’s fast asleep, snoring quietly into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky is torn.

On the one hand, Tony probably wants to be awake for the time he’s paying for. On the other, he looks so tired.

Waking him up would probably be a crime, and despite Tony’s claims Bucky is not actually a Disney villain.

So he wiggles down a little more against the arm of the couch, slow and careful even though he figures that if Tony does wake up, he has two more hours to fall back asleep if that’s what he wants.

Bucky certainly wouldn’t mind, Tony is warm and pleasantly heavy against his side, draped over his chest, and he looks so much younger when his face is softened with sleep.

He looks so different in real life, so much more real than he looks on TV. So much smaller, curled up into a tiny ball on his giant couch, in his big empty penthouse.

Tony’s hair is a mess of fluffy curls, so soft as Bucky continues running his fingers through it, the muscles of his back strong under Bucky’s other palm.

When Bucky’s alarm goes off it’s startlingly loud in the quiet of the penthouse, and even though Bucky has to fumble with it a bit before he turns it off Tony doesn't do anything more than make a quiet, sleepy sound and wiggle in a little closer.

Bucky hesitates for a second, glancing down at Tony’s peaceful face, and then wedges his phone back into the couch.

He was going to make this his last appointment of the night anyways. He’ll just stay until Tony wakes up.

Bucky wakes up staring at the incredibly high ceiling of Tony Stark’s penthouse, bathed in early morning light.

“Ah, fuck,” Bucky groans quietly to himself.

“Yeah, I actually get that a lot,” comes the voice from somewhere around his sternum, and when Bucky tips his chin down it’s to find Tony with his chin propped against Bucky’s chest, giving him a thoughtful look.

He looks a little less tired, bags beneath his eyes a little less pronounced, gorgeous even with crease marks on his cheek from Bucky’s shirt. Even if there is something wary in his expression.

“Hi,” Bucky says stupidly, still trying to blink away the grogginess in his brain and wincing when his neck aches sharply. That’s what he gets for accidentally spending all night with his head tipped way back against the arm of the couch.

“Hi,” Tony says back, and his big Bambi eyes dart to the side for just a second before he says “I’m not wholly unfamiliar with the one night stand, but I must admit we usually make it further than the couch. Fully dressed. What-“

“If you accuse me of bein’ a hooker again, ‘m gonna roll you right off this couch,” Bucky says before he can wake up enough to stop himself, and while he’s busy mentally cringing Tony’s eyes go wide with recognition.

“Ah fuck,” Tony groans while his cheeks flush an appealing, distracting pink, “What’s the overtime charge look like for top rated pro cuddlers?”

“Nah, don’ worry about it,” Bucky says quickly, finally untangling his fingers from Tony’s hair so he can rub over his eyes, “sorry, should’a woken you up-“

“So you’re saying you’re off the clock?” Tony interrupts, one eyebrow raised in an incredulous look, “You stayed off the clock?”

“I’m- um,” Bucky sputters awkwardly, and then realizes he has no excuse and sheepishly finishes with “Yes?”

“Even after I’m pretty sure I called you a prostitute at least three times?” Tony asks, and he still looks mildly baffled but there’s a smile growing on his face.

“It was five,” Bucky corrects, smiling back helplessly, “Once by callin’ me a lady of the evening, which, incorrect on multiple counts.”

“Right, I remember now,” Tony says slowly, and there is a devious look in his eye as he adds “We decided you’re an animated cow.”

“It was a horse, an’ I think you know it,” Bucky says with a mock-glare, gently pinching Tony’s ear and then tightening his arm around Tony’s back when he unexpectedly bursts into wild giggles.

When Tony settles down again he digs his chin into Bucky’s sternum with a happy sigh. His expression goes thoughtful, chewing on his bottom lip, and Bucky tries really hard not to get distracted.

They’re so close that Bucky can just barely feel the way Tony’s breath shakes nervously on the inhale, and then he asks “So, what are your feelings on breakfast?”

“Important,” Bucky blurts quickly, heart jumping in his chest, “Very important. Especially if I’m going to accomplish world domination today.”

“I knew it!” Tony crows victoriously, pushing himself upright and elbowing Bucky in the gut in the process. He grins happily in response to Bucky’s pained grunt and climbs to his feet, grabbing Bucky’s hand and giving it a tug. “C’mon,” he whines when Bucky moves not at all, “we need to go raid my kitchen. I want to get on your good side before you take over the world, I’m hoping it’ll get me a good spot in the dance number.”

“Yeah, I think that can be arranged,” Bucky says, grinning wide as he lets himself be pulled to his feet.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Things We Say (Modern!Ivar x reader)

All Those Things Part 3 - catch up here

A/N: Sorry, it took me forever to update this, but better later than never, right?

@inforapound​ 💖🌻💖 You’re the best!

Summary: Things are moving (too?) slowly between Ivar and the reader. But some - painful - things need to be said. 

Warnings: Swearings; Ivar’s and reader’s insecurities. It’s probably boring.

Words: 2833

Failing to repress a yawn, you give Ivar a sheepish look before sinking into the couch next to him.

 His hand lightly squeezes your shoulder and he frowns, scrutinizing you. "Are you okay?" His concern is obvious and you know your light make up doesn't hide your undereye bags very well. Or at all. 

 Sitting up straight, you try hard to sound more energetic than you are. "Yeah, don't worry. Just a little tired, I guess." 

 The truth is, you're thoroughly exhausted. Two weeks ago, two of your coworkers quit without warning and since then you've had to work several double shifts. 

 As if it wasn't bad enough, there had been this medical congress last week, with neurologists from all over the world. The cream of the crop speaking of clientele. Madame Claude had asked for your services more often than not, arguing that your fluency in several languages was a big added bonus as well as a satisfaction guarantee. 

 "You should quit." Ivar's voice is so soft that you wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't sitting right next to you.

 You sigh and rub your eyes. The words are coming out of your mouth before you've had a chance to think. "Believe me… I wish I could." 

A wave of unease strikes you. 

 Fuck.

 Your mind had been playing with this thought for several weeks now but speaking it out loud sounds wrong. You put a lot of thought into this lately and are painfully aware that there's nothing else you can do. You have no degree, no qualifications. Nothing. No one's willing to hire a whore anyway. Grimacing, you lower your head, ashamed and close to tears. 

 Scooting closer, Ivar wraps an arm around your shoulders. Leaning forward, he fails to catch your gaze as you stubbornly keep your eyes averted. 

 "Y/N… Look at me. Please." His hand takes your fidgeting fingers, caressing and relaxing them one by one. Eventually you give him a shy look, thankful for what he's doing, and for his mere presence. 

 "You do know that my family has a lot of money, don't you?" He speaks firmly, confidently. "I have a lot of money." 

 Of course you know that. His father has ruled all of Scandinavia for more than thirty years, economically speaking. And now, Ivar and his brothers have taken the helm.

 "And?" You furrow your brows, puzzled as much by his words as by his broad smile. " What's that got to do with it?" 

 "C'mon Y/N, it's quite obvious, isn't it?" Intertwining his fingers with yours, he looks at you like you're a child needing an explanation. As you stay quiet, he carries on. "I could help you. I could give you mon—"

 "No!!!" Cutting him off, you jump off the couch, renewed energy flowing through your body. 

 Eyes and mouth wide open, Ivar stares at you, shaking his head, questions written all over his face. "What… Why?" His unsure tone makes you flinch and you suddenly realize how harsh you have been.

 Fuck.

 "Sorry." You blink several times, biting your lower lip. "Listen, Ivar… Thank you. Thank you for offering. But what difference would it make? Whether several men pay for me or just one, I'll always be a whore…" You know you sound hopeless. 

 Owerwhelmed by your own dispair, you don't notice the way he clenches his fists, upset upon hearing your last words. "Stop calling yourself a whore, Y/N!" 

 Startled by his outburst, you flinch, shaking your head. "That's what I am, and that's what people will think if you give me money."

 Inhaling, Ivar scrutinizes you. "You can't… you can't be serious?" Palms facing upwards, Ivar, who seems at a loss for words, looks at you dumbfoundedly for a long time, eventually mumbling. "We… we don't even have sex."

 "People don't know that, Ivar." You reason, speaking softly now. "Sigurd doesn't know that." Sitting once more next to him, your hand strokes his cheek. Staying quiet, he just glares at you as you go on. "Ivar, you cannot be my sugar daddy. It won't do you or me any good, trust me."

 Ivar cringes. "Okay, I get it and you're probably right." He frowns and you can see he's thinking hard. As he remains silent, he nervously scratches the back of his neck. A sudden spark in his eyes tells you he's struck with a new idea. "But you could work for me, couldn't you? My personal assistant. It would be a regular job. From eight to five. No more men. No more blowjobs. Nothing sex related anymore. What do you say about that?" 

 His huge blue eyes show you how simultaneously annoyed and hopeful he is. You knew he cared about you, but you weren't sure to what extent. Now you can see. Your heart flutters. Still, you have to turn him down. You can't accept. 

 Sighing, you intertwine your fingers with his. "No Ivar, I can't." Squeezing his hand, you explain. "This would be the same. I may work for you, but people will think you hired me because of my sexual skills. It would tarnish your reputation. Besides, I'm good for nothing. What could I do? Typing or bookkeeping are unknown to me. And I wouldn't know how to set up a meeting or prepare a presentation." Letting go of his hand, you sigh again. "I'm useless, Ivar."

 His hand cups your face and his eyes lock on yours. "No, you're not,” he says softly, giving you a gentle smile, nodding reassuringly. "Let me think about this, Y/N. Let me help you."

 "I don't want to be a burden, Ivar. You don't have to." Feeling small and defeated, you swallow, blinking back tears. 

 "Hey…" His thumb barely touching your cheekbone, Ivar shakes his head, his eyes showing his obvious disapproval. "I know I don't, but I want to. And you're not a burden, you hear me? Please, Y/N, trust me, I'll figure something out, okay?"

  A puzzled look on your face, you raise your eyebrows. "I don't understand, Ivar… Why do you care so much?"

 With a straight face, Ivar replies without the slightest hesitation, never taking his eyes off you. "Because you're immensely important to me."

 The sincerity in his voice blows all the air out of your lungs. You didn't think you could ever matter that much to anyone again, let alone to Ivar, this handsome, smart and stubborn man you're falling for. Gods… 

 Fuck.

 You're melting and your heart is pounding in your chest as you reach out, your hand running through his hair. You scoot closer, seized with emotion, as Ivar tilts his head. You close your eyes, your lips meeting his plump ones, the simple touch sending a shiver through your body. When his tongue find yours, Ivar moans, low and hoarse, and you can't think anymore, overwhelmed and lightheaded. Swinging a leg over his lap, you carefully straddle him, your knees framing his hips. 

 "Ivar…", you whisper before kissing him once more. As you deepen the kiss, your left hand still in his hair, the right one boldly pulls his shirt up, grazing his defined abs. 

 With Ivar, you've never done more than share innocent kisses, but right now you feel like you're out of control, intoxicated from his scent as you find yourself drawn to his skin. You want to touch him, you need to feel him, taste him. You're spiraling and you don't want to stop. For the first time in years, you want that. You want closeness, you crave intimacy. Your hands frantically roam his upper body, you can hear his ragged breathing. It drives you crazy, turning your whole world upside down. You need him, more than you've ever needed anyone. 

 Suddenly though, two hands wrap around your wrists, squeezing them incredibly tight and waking you from your trance. "STOP!!" Ivar shouts, pushing you away. He gives you a hard look, but there's something else. He's like a wounded animal, vulnerable, frightened. Helpless. 

 Fuck. What's that? 

 "Ivar?" You ask tentatively, but lowering his eyes, Ivar doesn't say a word. Keeping his hands around your forearms, he loosens his grip.

 "I'm sorry." You sputter with a shaky voice. "I.. I shouldn't have done that." 

 Fuck fuck fuck. You fucked up, Y/N. 

 Panic pulses through you and a knot of fear sits in your stomach as the sound of Ivar's breathing fills the room. "I got carried away, Ivar. I'm so sorry."  It was predictable, wasn't it? Ivar may like you, but he and you are from different worlds. You realize how silly you have been… At the end of the day, he's who he is – an extremely wealthy businessman, with a famous name and a social status to maintain – and you, you're still you. A whore… Your heart shattered by this thought, you suck in a shallow breath as a single tear rolls down your face.

 "Listen Ivar, I don't know what I was thinking." Your voice wobbles as a lump rises in your throat. "Surely I… I wasn't thinking…", you babble, "… I thought that's what… what you wanted, but I was wrong, obviously I was wrong."

 Ivar slowly releases your wrists and you take a seat next to him as he mutters under his breath something you fail to catch. "Ivar, what did you say?" You whisper, afraid of what you might hear. 

 "You don't get it, Y/N." Looking down, Ivar rubs his hands on the top of his legs. "It's not about what I want, it's…" His breath hitches, his voice comes out strangled. "It's about what I can, or more like, what…", he hiccups, "I cannot." Uncomfortably glancing around the room, he never makes eye contact with you. 

 Fuck. He cannot. Once again.

 Willing to soothe him, you lean in, wrapping his hands in yours. "Yes, you cannot, that's what you keep telling me. But what are you talking about, Ivar? Just tell me." You stop, inhaling deeply before resuming with a shaky voice. "It's because of me, right? You cannot because of what I am, that's it? I won't feel offended if it is, you know? I know I'm digusting, Ivar."

 Ivar suddenly raises his head, looking directly at you with wide, pleading eyes. "No, don't, please. Stop belittling yourself, Y/N. Don't denigrate yourself anymore. I swear to you, you're perfect the way you are. You're beautiful, and clever and so fucking desirable. So please, stop. You're not disgusting. Never have been, never will be. Please, trust me. You're the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me."

 Your heart swells with bliss, making you feel warm inside. Yet, the pleasant feeling is short-lived, vanishing as you remember Ivar's rejection and words. 

 He fucking cannot.

 "Then you have to talk to me, Ivar." You speak softly but firmly, with newfound confidence, while your hand cups his chin, preventing him from lowering his head. You don't keep asking him as you can see many different emotions running across his face, allowing him time to gather his thoughts. You won't back off though, and you're sure he knows it.

 After a long silence, Ivar eventually whispers, his eyes tight shut. "It's so fucking embarrassing." Fists clenched and color draining from his face, he's so tense you feel like he might shatter, his chest rising and falling too fast. 

 Breathing out a low chuckle, you grasp his hand, your thumb stroking his knuckles. "Believe me, I know a thing or two about embarrassment." As a bashful half-smile curls Ivar's lips, you give him a gentle peck on the cheek before murmuring in his ear, "I won't judge you, ever. You know I won't."

 Ivar looks at you for a long time, bewildered, and then bites his bottom lip and nods, turning his head away as if to...

 Fuck. As if to hide how ashamed he is. It's far more than embarrassment. 

 The realization twists your heart and you reach out, your hand squeezing his shoulder soothingly. "Ivar, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you tell me. Don't be afraid." Reassuring him seems the right thing to do and you spontaneously pull him toward you in an embrace. 

 Ivar tenses and for a brief, horrible moment, you think you might be pushed away. He eventually straightens up, his hands gripping the edge of the couch, fingernails white from the strain he puts into it and you let go of him slightly, giving him space. 

 The atmosphere is heavy as you rest your hand on his thigh, barely squeezing it, careful not to hurt him. "And if you don't tell me anything, that's okay, too." 

 Gritting, he shudders. "Guess I cannot go on like this." Staring down at his shoes, he whispers softly.

As he inhales deeply, you know this is it. He's about to tell you. Finally. 

 Fuck.

 "There was this girl, her name was Margrethe." Ivar begins, never looking at you, "She was a waitress at a bar my brothers and I used to go to a lot. Long story short, they were all sleeping with her. I was sixteen and for once I wanted to be…" Ivar has to stop, words catch in his throat. There's no doubt that sharing this with you is very painful for him. You keep quiet, though, allowing him to take all the time he needs.

 Eventually, Ivar swallows loudly. "For once I wanted to be like them. I wanted to…" He can barely get the words out, "… be normal."

 You can't stop yourself. "Ivar, you're–" You want to tell him he's normal, and perfect the way he is and that everything is fine, but he doesn't give you a chance, shushing you, a finger over your lips. 

 "Don't, please. Let me just finish or… It's so difficult, if I stop now I'm not sure I'll ever tell you." His voice is soft, but the tensing in his jaw obvious.

 You nod, silently encouraging him to keep talking, your fingers slowly wrapping around the hand you can reach. 

 "Okay…" Ivar gives you a quick glance, a sad, halfhearted smile on his lips. "So, I wanted to fuck her. I'm not proud of it but fuck, I was a teen… I… I wasn't thinking… It should have been easy. Margrethe was obsessed with social climbing and I am a Ragnarsson. And in fact, getting her into bed with me was easy. But then… Then everything went to shit."

 Letting out a ragged breath, Ivar runs a shaky hand through his hair and darts his tongue out at the corner of his mouth before biting his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed. He then squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body shivering.

 "I… I couldn't… Oh fuck, this is so hard… I couldn't get it up, you know? I couldn't get it up and I couldn't please her. It was a failure. I was a failure. Margrethe told Sigurd, who told everyone else." His words rush out as tears suddenly spill free from his eyes. 

 Fucking Sigurd! With a brother like this, who needs enemies?

 A wave of sadness washes over you. Your throat closes up and your heart starts pounding in your chest as you process what Ivar just told you. "Oh, Ivar…", you mutter, fingers brushing against his side, "I'm going to hug you."

 And just like that, you take him in your embrace, resting a hand on his lower back and the other on his neck. Ivar's tears soaking your shirt, you cradle him, humming absentmindedly. 

 When he eventually calms down, you frame his face with your hands, kissing his tears away. "Ivar, tell me," you gently ask, "Have you ever tried again after that one time?"

 The answer bursts forth, Ivar's tone is bitter. "Believe me, that was humiliating enough to never do it again." 

 He snorts, leaning down to grab his crutch, but you stop him with one hand on his arm, lightly shaking your head. "Listen to me, Ivar. I understand, I really do. But believe me, once is not enough to say you cannot. A thousand reasons could explain what happened. Your lack of experience or your nervousness for instance. And even so, there are many, many ways to please a woman, using your mouth or your strong fingers. I could teach you. Trust me, please, you know this is my area of expertise. Let me help you, Ivar. Please."

 Staring wide-eyed at you, speechless, Ivar eventually arches an eyebrow. "Why…" His voice is hoarse and he clears his throat. "Why would you do that? You'd really be willing to help me? Why?" Disbelief written all over his face, he ducks his head but you tilt it up immediately, your hand cupping his chin. 

 Blushing, you let out a short, nervous chuckle.  "Isn't it obvious?" Your eyes locked with his and you take a deep breath before opening up your heart. "Because I like you. I care about you, Ivar. Very, very much."

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