#Also from personal experience as I too jumped off a stage once to an empty audience for a flex.

[ioniansunsets]

I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG

hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k

✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions

✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!

I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.

----

It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.

The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.

He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.

How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!

He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.

Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!

The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!

He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.

Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.

xxxx

The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.

" Hey!"

He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.

" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"

Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.

" I uh...I love you."

He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.

" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."

Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."

He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.

A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?

" Wait haha what? Really?"

He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.

" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"

Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.

As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.

" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"

He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.

[thecurrator]

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 @denjivhs

Your match is...Bachira Meguru!

A playful and energetic guy to have fun with! He may or may not have concerning hallucinations that he'll tell you about, but you can always count on him to have a good time.

To be honest, you seem to share some personality traits with Isagi, so Bachira would easily be drawn to you. His energy easily makes up for your apparent "shyness" during your first meeting, and before you know it, you guys are attached at the hip. The more he learns about you, the more he falls in love.

So you love making impulsive decisions. What a coincidence, he does too! I can imagine him dragging you out for a midnight snack at a convenience store, walking aimlessly about on the empty streets, dancing around the streetlights.

On that note, I can imagine him suggesting getting matching couple tattoos after you both have been dating for a year or two. For him, it's like a declaration for the second stage of his relationship with you, between the start of dating and marriage.

He's the type to buy random things that remind him of you, little trinkets placed everywhere in your room over time. Matching plastic dolphin statues, a scorpion magnet, a cat plushie for Valentine's day, a book he thinks you might like.

He totally has physical touch as his love language too, so hugs! Cuddles!! You both are around the same height, so its super easy for him to just come up to you and throw his arms around your shoulders. If you don't shrug him off of you when you're both near a couch or bed, he'll sit down and cling to you like a koala and you'll be stuck there for the next hour. You may hesitate to openly express affection, but that never deters Bachira from showing his love. Maybe one day you'll be accustomed enough to the constant physical contact to initiate cuddle sessions by yourself.

Since you like thrill-seeking activities, he'd happily bring you to amusement and extreme parks if you're into that kind of thing. If you're willing to try out bungee jumping or skydiving as well, he's booking tickets as soon as he gets your confirmation. He's always wanted to try one of those activities. The experience will be ten times better too since you'll be there to try it out with him.

Runner-up: Shidou Ryusei (Another wild guy, but rather violent?)

Your match is...Geto Suguru!

Someone responsible and grounded to compliment you! You both may not always agree with each other, but will be inexplicably drawn to each other time and time again.

You both are more on the introverted side, so getting to know each other likely took some time. Maybe you both were stuck together for something like a group project and had no choice but to talk to each other. Once you both were able to find a common topic to talk about, it was smooth sailing from there.

He has a good sense of humor himself, so he'd really enjoy hanging out with you once you both get comfortable enough with each other to start joking around.

When you start getting impulsive ideas, there's a 50% chance of him either joining you or being your impulse control. You both will probably end up getting into trouble more often than not anyway. Try as he might, he's not always good at acting put together.

He'll take you around town for dates, stopping to pet any cats that pass by, watching the sunset from a "good spot" as he calls it. Whenever he gets a food or drink, he usually does it with the thought of sharing it with you in mind. If you're craving anything, he'll buy it for you the moment he hears about it.

Home dates will be quite common too. He likes to just sit and read with you, sharing any jokes in his book that he finds funny. After dating for some time, he'll give you a copy of his favourite book, little sticky notes between the pages so you can read some of his thoughts while getting through the story. You both also often share music with each other, exchanging songs and the like.

He's the type to write you cute notes to remind you of something important when he can't remind you in person. He pastes sticky notes on the fridge, the dining table, on your phone, making sure you'll read it. When he prepares food for you, a little note to remind you of his love will be sure to greet you when you open the container. He'll definitely write more of them for you when he finds out you have a soft spot for handwritten notes.

Runner-up: Hakari Kinji (Honestly, Hakari is a good match for you the same way Bachira is a good match for you, so I decided to go for a more opposites attract route for JJK.)

[logically-asexual]

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

summary:

Last part of this series, two years after the events of the previous part. Logan just finished high school while Janus, Remus and Virgil have been renting a house together since they graduated. Logan decides to move in with them, but adjusting isn't so easy. Logan is ace but does feel romantic attraction (for Virgil). He doesn't know he's ace, though, so the story involves some self-questioning.

note 1: Janus and Remus flirt with Logan a lot and make advances at him and they also kiss at some points. In my head this was intended as just them being playful but if you want to interpret it as romantic then that's also cool.

note 2: The age gap between Logan and the rest is pretty significant considering their life experiences, but I am not going to point out every single problem with that, I just wrote whatever I thought would be fun. So if you're sensitive to that consider yourself warned.

more warnings: Underage drinking, Smoking, Drug use (only weed) and References to drugs, Referenced sex, a lot of innuendos and stuff, Swearing. i'll add more detailed warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

| Next | (the fic is complete now)

words: 1780

warnings for this chapter: self-deprecation, Logan has a breakdown.

Logan struggled to carry his suitcase down the stairs of the small venue. He hoped he had the address right, but he was pretty certain of it by the loud noise of bad punk music and people cheering. The night was dark outside with no sight of the moon over the gray clouds that were gathering outside, and this stairway was somehow even darker. 

Some rain had fallen on his walk here, but it stopped minutes before he had reached his destination. His hair and glasses were still wet but he didn’t look too drenched. Still, the guard at the door that was at the bottom of the stairs looked at him weirdly once he made it. Logan smiled awkwardly at him and asked if there was some place where he could leave his bag, hoping he didn’t look too ridiculous in his button-up shirt and tie. 

Luckily, the guard let him in all the way to the empty greenroom once he proved (via two year old pictures on his phone) that he was friends with the guys playing tonight. He was surprised the security wasn’t stricter but, on second thought, what else could he expect? It was a tiny basement where sweaty young adults gathered at midnight to get drunk and burst their eardrums, nobody cared. 

That thought persisted as he pushed through the crowd, realizing that he didn’t have to worry about blending in, since nobody was looking at any other person that wasn’t on the stage. He turned towards it as well, to find that he was just in time. The last band was picking their instruments up and making way for other performers. Logan watched from the center of the audience as two tall guys stepped on the stage. 

The first one wore a long-sleeved ripped shirt that appeared dark blue or purple –it was hard to tell under the laser party lights–, black skinny jeans, and high black boots. He carried an electric guitar covered with stickers of skulls, roses, and band logos. The only color in him was the bright purple his hair was dyed. The eyeshadow around his eyes and his pale skin made him almost look like a skull himself. 

The second one sat at the drums. He had a moustache and wore a neon green crop-top without sleeves, showing off the muscles in his arms and his abdomen, and baggy jeans that had more holes in them than actual fabric, allowing fishnets under them to be visible. 

Logan recognized them immediately. 

He flinched when the thunderous music began, but soon got infected with the energy of the people around him and before he knew it he was jumping to the rhythm with the rest of them. It was that easy to forget the reason he was here in the first place. 

The limited time they had ended soon. After a few songs, the pair walked down the stage and music began playing from the speakers, giving everyone a break before the next musicians of the night followed. Logan moved quickly to meet them in the room where he had left his stuff, relieved to see it was still there. 

He arrived before the others, who were presumably speaking with the audience and promoting their work. After a minute he watched Remus and Janus walk in. 

The three of them made eye contact, the two older guys stopped their conversation and Logan froze. He didn’t know what to say, and began doubting that they even recognized him. But, come on, it had been two years and a half since they graduated, and they were friends! They had to remember him. 

The silence broke when Virgil entered the room. “Logan?” he said immediately when he saw him. 

“Um… hey.” Logan greeted them with a small wave of his hand. 

“Specs! What are you doing here, you nerd?” Remus asked with a smile on his face.

“I…”

“You watched the show?” Virgil followed. 

“I did.”

“What do you think? Can we still convert you to the world of actually good music?” 

Logan flinched at Remus’ slap on his shoulder but laughed and nodded nonetheless. He was still nervous, more so when he realized Janus was staring at him, as if studying him with suspicion. 

“We’re getting pizza right now, there’s a 24/7 place ‘round the corner. Do you wanna come?” Remus asked. He had an arm over Logan’s shoulders and used it to shake him slightly.

“Oh, uh… Sure. I’d be happy to.”  

“Cool, let’s go.”

“Just, um,” Logan interrupted as they began walking out. “I’ll be with you in a minute, I… should call my parents.” 

The three of them nodded and continued their way. 

Logan bit his lip as he looked at the suitcase he brought all the way here. What would he do with it? He had to tell them the truth sooner or later. 

After a minute of pondering, he grabbed its handle and made his way out to the street. When he did, his phone beeped with a new message. 

“Still got this number?” From Virgil. 

“Yes.” He texted back. 

“Pizza place is closed. We’re walking home a few blocks down, if you wanna come.” The message was followed by an address.

“O. K.”

Logan sighed, put his phone back into his pocket, and dragged his suitcase along the empty street. Droplets of water were beginning to fall again, so Logan walked as fast as he could. He reached the others as they were leaving a convenience store with beers and snacks. 

“Hey.” He greeted them once again. 

“What’s with the luggage?” Janus immediately questioned, nodding towards the suitcase. 

Logan’s heart skipped, trying to think what to say that wouldn’t sound bad. “I was, uh, wondering if I could stay with you guys for a few days…” He managed to say. 

“Why?” Virgil asked. 

“Because I wanted to,” he whispered. 

They seemed pleased by the snarky response and didn’t question him further, simply continuing their walk home. 

“Sure,” Janus said. “We don’t have spare beds, though, but there’s the couch.” 

“That’s fine,” Logan struggled to catch up with their pace, as he always had done. 

He had grown somewhat taller in the past years. Now seventeen, he didn’t look so out of place with the others, probably just as tall as Janus, the shortest of the group, with a somewhat sharper jawline and bags under his eyes that helped him look more his age. They still walked much faster than his usual pace. Some things might never change. 

“Your music is actually good.” Logan pointed out. 

Remus laughed. “What do you mean ‘actually’, you little bitch?”

“Well… I think all tastes should be respected, including those for trash and all… But I sort of expected you to stand on the stage and eat the microphone.”

Remus cackled at that. 

“God, don’t give him ideas.” Janus said. 

“Too late, it’s part of my act now! The people will love it.”

Janus and Virgil groaned as Logan stifled his own laugh. 

“How did you find out about the show?” Janus turned back to him. 

“Oh… I’m guessing the guys in charge of surveillance at Google are becoming better. I got a poster of the shows happening tonight on my timeline the other day.”

“I thought you didn’t use social media,” Virgil said. 

“Twitter might be good to connect with future employers.” 

He saw Janus roll his eyes and Virgil raise an eyebrow in concern. 

“Don’t you have class tomorrow or something?” Virgil asked. It was Thursday.

Logan felt the droplets of rain wetting his hair becoming more frequent. “No,” he lied. “There’s some kind of event at the faculty and I don’t have to be there.”

Janus scoffed. “You’re getting better at it, sweetie, but you still need more practice.” 

Logan flushed in embarrassment. He had forgotten that all of them could easily see through him. 

“Don’t worry, kid,” Janus had noticed his distress. He lifted a finger over his grin, “we won’t tell anyone. Besides,” he said as they approached the house, “you’ve graduated already, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Nobody cares about attendance or any of that shit in college, you’ll be fine.”

“I guess.” He muttered. 

Thunder made Logan flinch as they stopped at the front door of his friends’ apartment. 

“So how are you doing, L?” Virgil asked.

“I’m fine.” Logan answered, not looking up from his shoes. 

“Are you, really?” Remus insisted as he opened the door lock. 

Remus, Janus and Virgil stepped slowly inside, taking off their shoes at the entrance. Before Logan could repeat himself, a louder thunder shook the air around him, and the storm began fully, falling on Logan as if a bucket of water was just dropped over him. 

The three older boys stared at him in concern as he stood frozen, before a single sob more deafening that the thunder left Logan’s lips.

They pulled him into the house just in time before he fell to his knees, desperately trying to control his breathing and press the tears back into his eyes. It didn’t work, Logan was crying like a baby and wishing he was still outside, where the sound of the storm would be louder than his sobs and the water falling would disguise his tears. 

He hadn’t cried like this since he was… four? It felt so stupid, but he couldn’t stop it. He hid his head between his knees, covered his ears with his hands, and hoped the ground would eat him and spit him out on the opposite side of the Earth, even better if that happened to be at the bottom of the ocean. 

Virgil stopped Remus from touching Logan in an attempt to comfort him, None of them knew what to do, but trying to avoid startling him seemed the safest course of action. Remus then brought Logan’s suitcase inside and closed the door, as Janus went to get a towel. Virgil attempted to talk to him but Logan wouldn’t hear, just repeating “I’m sorry” over and over. 

Once Janus got back, Virgil warned Logan about the towel, before they gently laid it over his shoulders. They all kneeled on the floor with him, waiting for him to tire himself out and reassuring him. They tried to keep their distance to not overwhelm him, but it wasn’t easy in such a narrow hallway. 

After a while, the sobs died down into sniffles and Logan’s breathing became even. He felt too ashamed to look them in the eyes, but he managed to lift his face and see the three of them sitting around him. 

“So,” Janus spoke softly, “do you want to tell us what happened?”

| Next |

[songmingisthighs]

[16.14] hongjoong × roadie!reader × yunho

⇀ you've always admired him, and after being given the chance to work for him, you couldn't help but fall for him. But to him, you're just his groupie.

⇁ tw : joong's an ungrateful jerk 🙃

You stood by the side of the stage, eyes dreamy watching Hongjoong performed his latest song so beautifully. He looked ethereal on stage; the spotlight on him, his expression, the emotion he brought out. To be able to see him perform in person is a whole out of this world experience. Even after a year of being his roadie, you never once felt like it was a waste of time.

Without you realizing, he finished his performance and walked off backstage after waving to his fans.

As he walked to you, you couldn't help but jump excitedly and clap for him.

"Oh my god, Hongjoong! That's amazing !!" you exclaimed loudly to him. You had a wide grin on your face as you handed out his water bottle and towel.

The initial genuine smile that Hongjoong shot to his fans changed immediately as he came face to face with you. He raised an eyebrow and just scoffed, "of course you'd think that's amazing," he muttered, snatching the items from your hands rather harshly. The staff around watched with pity, while idols and celebrities tend to treat staff in a shitty manner because they're not close, it was particularly harsh for an idol to treat the person who willingly follows him around like a lovesick puppy so badly, like they're nothing but a nuisance. And it was particularly heartbreaking to see even through the abuse Hongjoong gave you, you still look at him with much love and adoration.

As Hongjoong took a sip from his bottle, he grimaced. He looked at the bottle before he shot you a displeased look, "this is not the brand I usually drink," he stated.

You blinked in confusion initially, "what?" you asked, not quite sure. Hongjoong groaned in annoyance at you, "this is not the bottled water brand I usually drink, do you want me to lose my vocal abilities that you claimed you love so much?" he scowled.

Realizing he was being serious, you stuttered, "I-I'm sorry, I tried looking for that brand from the vending machine and the cafeteria here but they don't sell it," you explained.

Hongjoong took a step closer to you, he was so close that you could count his eyelashes. The proximity made you blush furiously, nervous as the position seemed very intimate.

"If you can't even go out to look for the things I specifically asked you to do, drop out of being my roadie because I can find your replacement in two seconds if I want to," he growled out lowly. He proceeded to push the water bottle into your chest harshly, sending you hurtling backwards and hitting the wall behind you.

You chuckled to no one as he walked off, "I'm sorry, Hongjoong! It won't happen again!" you called out pathetically.

Tears threatened to drop from your eyes as your head had just bumped into the wall rather harshly. But you couldn't cry then and there. You knew that if you cried, people would talk badly about Hongjoong. He already had his own share of stress, you can't add more to it. So you just gripped onto the part of your head that was pounding from impact pain, silently hoping it'd go away soon.

"Hey, are you okay?" a voice called out.

You looked up to see one of the rising idols leaning close to you, he had a worried look on his face. You immediately recognized him as Jung Yunho, the idol who is very esteemed for his performance abilities. He was scheduled to perform on the same stage as Hongjoong today and he had performed two stages before Hongjoong but you didn't think you'd be able to see him.

Smiling sheepishly, you rubbed at the sore spot, "Y-yeah I'm okay, I'm such a klutz tripping over my own feet like that," you chuckled.

Though you tried lying, Yunho saw the whole thing unfold from not too far, he caught the interaction between you and Hongjoong. He didn't know how Hongjoong was able to treat someone so badly.

But, seeing how hard you were trying to cover it up, he decided to just spare you and play along. Yunho shot you a gentle smile, "if you're that clumsy, then maybe you should have someone be with you always," he teased.

You look up at him and blushed slightly. You bit on your bottom lip in embarrassment but also out of shyness.

"You're Hongjoong's roadie, right?" he asked, tilting his head to the side rather adorably. You nod at him in confirmation, rather eagerly than you intended. But you were just happy that someone noticed that you were a part of Hongjoong's entourage.

Just as you were about to verbally confirm him, Hongjoong reappeared, grabbing onto your arm rather harshly.

"What are you still here for? I was waiting for you to- oh, hey Yunho," he greeted as he noticed Yunho stood in front of you. Yunho smiled at the older guy. To regular people, it might seem just like a regular smile but to those who know him well, that smile spoke of how Yunho is apprehensive of Hongjoong and how he doesn't seem to like the guy so much.

"Hi, hyung, long time no see," the younger said to which the older just shrugged, "our schedules never seem to match," he simply stated.

Yunho's eyes darted to Hongjoong's hand that was still on your arm. That seemed to make Hongjoong realized what he has been doing so he immediately let go, much to your disappointment.

"Well, I gotta go now, I have to go back to the company to finish up my next project," Hongjoong excused, You know very well that he has no new project lined up which means that Hongjoong was feeling rather uncomfortable and maybe even threatened.

Luckily, Yunho just shrugged at him, "yeah, sure, see you around, hyung," he then shifted his gaze to you, shooting you a blush-inducing charming smile, "and I'll see you soon, (Y/N)," he smiled widely at you.

You smiled back to him and nod, "yeah, see you soon, Yunho,"

From behind you, you could hear Hongjoong scoffed loudly before he simply walked away without saying anything else.

When you realized he had left without you, you immediately rushed to catch up with him.

Back at his waiting room, staff were packing things and you helped around, making sure things are in order and nothing gets left behind. Halfway through the packing, you realized that Hongjoong was actively ignoring you. Sure, he usually does that anyways but he'd throw comments here and there and even make you stop what you were doing to get him something or do something for him. You couldn't deny that there was this uncomfortable, tingling feeling that lingers. But for now, you ignored it and got back to doing what you had been doing.

Once everything was packed and loaded onto the car, you silently walked behind Hongjoong and his manager who was discussing his schedule. You weren't paying attention as it doesn't really concern you particularly anyways.

But you suddenly felt like you had bumped into someone. When you looked up, you realized that Hongjoong had stopped mid-way before he turned to look at you.

"I think I left my AirPods backstage, could you please help me find it?" he asked with a blank expression on his face.

Without even hesitating, you eagerly nodded and shot him a smile, "Yeah, sure! No problem!" you said before running off back to where you had just been.

Due to the large building, it took you quite some time to reach backstage and it took you 20 minutes to look for Hongjoong's AirPods. Some of the staff around were helping you look for it but they weren't able to find what you were looking for.

Dejected, you walked back towards the parking lot where you knew Hongjoong's van was parked.

But when you arrived, you saw that the reserved parking spot where Hongjoong's van was parked was empty. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, you were pretty sure that this was where it was parked, the spot still had a sign with Hongjoong's name on it.

You reached into your pocket to dial his manager, knowing that when in the car, Hongjoong is more likely than not to be asleep since he usually spend his nights writing masterpieces.

The manager thankfully picked up at the third ring, "Hello?" he called, "h-hey, it's me! Where are you guys? I'm at the parking lot and the van's not here?" you asked him. "Us? We're already on the way back to Hongjoong's apartment, why?" his words made you felt like your stomach just dropped. "W-what? Y-you left me here?" you asked in disbelief, "left you? We didn't, Hongjoong said an idol invited you to hang with him and that you were going, Yunho was it?" he asked back.

Right at that moment, you felt like you wanted to cry for the second time that day. Though it was evident that Hongjoong was punishing you, you convinced yourself that he was just joking and that he wanted to prank you. You convinced yourself that Hongjoong didn't mean for what he did.

Thanking the manager, you quickly hung up and walked back inside to exit through the main lobby.

As you walked dejectedly to the main lobby, you felt someone tapping on your shoulder and to your surprise, it was Yunho again.

"Hey! You're still here? I thought you had left a while ago," he asked. You took notice of his tendency to tilt his head to the side when asking a question. You laughed sheepishly at him, "uhh, yeah, I-I- uhm, I left something behind so I told Hongjoong to leave without me," you said. After you said that, you realized how ridiculous it sounded and how people could tell it was a lie from miles away.

But even if Yunho realized your obvious lie, he said nothing. He kept a gentle smile on his face and nodded towards the main door, "you know, it's kinda nearing dinner time, and I'm quite hungry. There's this little small restaurant nearby, the owner knows me well so we're gonna get some pretty good discount for our meal, what do you say?"

Just as Yunho finished his sentence, your phone rang and when you looked at the caller, you were quite surprised to see that Hongjoong was the one who called you.

You excused yourself to Yunho to take the call, but you didn't move to the side to answer it. When you picked up, you heard Hongjoong sighed on the other line, "you still need to be picked up? We can turn around if you want," despite his offer, his voice sounded begrudging as if he was forced to say that.

Nevertheless, your heart skipped a beat at his offer, thinking that maybe he does care. But when you looked up and see Yunho's genuine and gentle eyes, your breath caught in your throat and for the first time ever, you seemed to realize just how different Yunho treated you compared to Hongjoong.

While you were the one who chose to be his roadie, a glorified unpaid staff, he never treated you as to how you deserve to be treated. Meanwhile, Yunho, who had only known you for probably 10 minutes, treated you better than Hongjoong ever could.

"Hello? Just say if you want to or not before we're too far from where you're at," he sighed in annoyance. A small smile broke on your face after the epiphany you just got.

"Sorry, Hongjoong, you don't have to turn around to get me," "Really? My manager said it's still possible to turn around," he said. The use of 'my manager said' confirmed that he didn't really care about you. And maybe you should start caring about him less.

"Yeah, no, I'm going out to eat with Yunho," you told him simply. Before he could respond, however, you had hung up and shove your phone deep into your bag. You beamed up at Yunho and nodded your head towards the door, "so? Are we gonna eat or not?"

Yunho smiled brightly at you and nodded very much eagerly, "Yes! You're not gonna regret this!" he exclaimed happily.

Yeah, deep down you know you weren't going to regret your choice.

[salty-rey]

Singing for the Troops

Pairing: Fives x Reader

Words: 3948

Warnings: Fluff! Open-ending (sexual mention???)

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the first time I do a fic for Star Wars, so I apologize in advance if I mislabeled certain ships. Or if I didn’t do the boys’ personalities any justice. 

I was inspired by old performances/entertainment for the Allied troops in WWII, and after watching Christina Aguilera’s Candyman music video. Then I thought, “do the clones get any kind of entertainment like this?” So I took it upon myself to make a fan fic!

Hope you guys like it!

I don’t know how to end a fic....

Playlist: Something’s Got a Hold On Me | Candyman | Ain’t No Other Man

Your dream is to become a famous singer, and you have been working hard for years to reach this goal. You have been visiting various bars and cantinas, singing for patrons whenever the owner allowed it. Even if you were paid or not, you still sang. If a bar had an open mic night, you were there. Out of all the bars you’ve been to, 79s has always been a favorite. It was always packed, and the owner was happy to have you sing for the guests. It always brought more patrons, which meant more money for the establishment. Plus, you were even paid, unlike previous locations. 

After a few months of you visiting 79s, you attracted the attention of a particular ARC trooper. When you finished your playlist of songs, both originals and covers, you were given a glass of whiskey. 

“Compliments from the ARC trooper,” the droid server told you before gesturing to the said trooper in blue. 

Looking over, you spotted the clone who raised their glass to you, sending a wink your way. Even though they all share the same face, this clone had a distinctive number tattoo on the side of his head and a classic goatee hugging his chin. It wasn’t the first time that someone bought a drink for you. Troopers before had attempted to grab your attention, even tried to get lucky for a night, but you brushed them off. But there was something about this trooper that was welcoming. Perhaps the way he smiled at you or the way he spoke to you. He was causal yet not dull. Flirty, too but it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You become bashful at his witty comments. It felt as though the two of you were long-time friends. 

The ARC Trooper introduced himself as Fives and greeted you to his fellow brothers. There, you met Echo, Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase. They all serve under Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, aka “Skyguy,” as to how Padawan Learner Ahsoka Tano calls him. They had stories to share with you; their missions on other planets engrossed you. In turn, you told them about your dreams to become a singer. 

“It’s silly, I know. Been lectured by my parents for years.” You lightly laughed, only to become surprised at the boys’ reactions.

“No dream is silly!” “Anyone who says otherwise is just jealous of your voice!” “I don’t know what it’s like to have parents, but they should be supportive of you.”

“If that’s your dream, then go after it. To kriff what other people say.” Fives huffed before fully turning to you. “Who can say that they had dreams but didn’t achieve them because they thought it was unrealistic? I’m going to see you on a big stage one day, and I’m going to say, “That’s our songbird.” Because you will always have us cheering you on.” The trooper said with a soft smile.

A blush crept onto your face, and a smile was spreading cheek to cheek. “Thanks, Fives!”

After that night, you and the boys exchanged your private commlinks. Soon enough than anyone would like, they were shipped back to the battlefield. While they were away, if there were any downtime between missions and work, you would hear your holoprojector beeping. You spent hours talking to each trooper, glad to see that they were doing well. Fives was the one who spent the most time with you, almost talking the night away. He would only stop when he saw your head dipping and your eyes blinking to stay awake.

“Go to sleep, songbird. I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. With any luck, we should be landing back to Coruscant within the month.” So fives said, his holo-imagine occasionally flickering due to the distance. 

After letting out a yawn, you rubbed your eyes and smile at him. “Okay. Be safe out there, okay?”

“Anything for my songbird,” Fives smirked. He then bid you goodnight with a soft smile, and he was gone. 

Within the month, the 501st had returned to Coruscant, and you met up with the boys back at 79s. The bar 79s was packed as usual, especially on a weekend evening. Troopers from all kinds of battalions were here, drinking and dancing, retelling stories with their brothers and civilians. The music was pumping, and the dance floor was full of slightly or fully intoxicated soldiers. 

Tight hugs and smiles were exchanged when you were reunited with the boys at the bar before entering and finding an empty booth for you all to sit. Echo had left the table to get everyone their drinks as you and boys caught up. 

“I heard that there this campaign being made for singers by singers and that they want to sing for you troopers.” So you told them, raising for your a bit so that they can hear you over the music. 

Singing for the Troops was a campaign created by independent singers on Coruscant. Singers who supported the clones and believed that the troops deserve a moment of peace and perhaps experience some form of normality, which may be entirely new to them. What clone can say that they have been to a concert? Plus, it would give the artists a moment to shine and perhaps score big with a sponsor. It’s a win-win situation! 

“The campaign reached several Republic-allied planets, encouraging other singers to sign up. Not just that, but it’s was being crowdfunded, and it reached its price goal! Also, I heard that a famous singer is the main supporter of the campaign,” you informed as Echo passed around everyone’s drinks.

“You should sign up!” Kix said after taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t know. I never sang for a large crowd. Let alone been off-world.” You replied nervously, your hands fiddling with the glass of liquor.

“That never stopped you singing at bars!” Hardcase responded before downing his drink in one gulp. 

“Just imagine that you’re singing to us! We already have the same faces.” Jesse joked before wincing at the sudden punch to the shoulder. 

“Look, songbird; you’re a great singer. And you’ve sung in front of countless drunken troops. So singing in front of a bunch of sober soldiers will be easy,” Fives chimed in, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “All those other singers will be lucky to have you join them.” He said before winking, a smirk on his face.

Your cheeks felt warm, and it wasn’t because of the liquor. “Thanks, Fives.” A soft smile formed on your lips, happy to hear his compliments. You then sighed before downing the rest of your drink. “Alright. I’ll do it!”

“Alright. A toast to (Y/N)!” Kix cheered, raising his glass, and the rest joined in. 

The next day, you wasted no time in signing up for a chance to sing in the campaign. The requirements are to submit a recording of your singing, and if you are selected, you will receive a message at the earliest notice. When you waited for a response, you and the boys roam the upper mid-levels of Coruscant, taking time to hang out before the boys were shipped back to war. It always felt bittersweet saying goodbye, but you knew that it wouldn’t be for long. 

It will be much longer. 

Arriving at your apartment from working your day job, you noticed that your holoprojector was blinking; someone left a message for you. A tightening sensation was felt in the pit of your stomach, your heart racing as you approached your holoprojector. You stared at the blinking light. Did one of the boys leave a message for you? No, they know your schedule, so it possible it isn’t them. 

Is it from the campaign? Your heart hammered hard against your ribcage as your hand reached over. Then, what felt like many minutes, you finally pressed the button, the image of a well-dressed man appearing. 

“Evening, miss (Y/N). I am the manager of the campaign Singing for the Troops, and I’m here to congratulate you. You have been selected to be one of our singers! We hope to hear from you soon.” The recording ended with a courtesy bow from the man, leaving you standing there in shock. 

Did he just say that you were accepted? Does that mean you get to go off-world and sing?!

A squeal of joy echoed throughout your apartment, you jumping in place. “I did it!!” You cheered before reaching for your holoprojector. You had to tell the boys! You had to tell Fives!

After several minutes to reach them, no one answered your calls. Your smile slowly turned into a frown before sighing in defeat. “They’re at war, (Y/N)... they’re probably outside of their base. I’ll just leave them a message about the good news.” 

Later in the day, you contacted the campaign manager and agreed to meet with them for further instruction. The plan was to visit various battalions and sing for them during downtime. It will be difficult, and the campaign will have to plan, seeing battalion will go first. During those long weeks of planning, meeting other artists, and vocal practices, there still was no response from the boys. It wouldn’t be the first time you didn’t hear from Fives and the others, although you couldn’t help but worry. 

“Once everyone arrives onto Coruscant, we will first visit the 104th Battalion,” the campaign manager informed everyone via holoprojector. 

“The Wolfpack Co.,” you whispered to yourself. Fives told you about this battalion, having pointed a couple of them out back at 79’s. Fives said to you that the unit within the 104th was a serious, no-nonsense type of group. Entertaining this group and the rest of the battalion will be a challenge. 

The manager continued to list other battalions and legions until one of them caught your attention. “501st and finally, the 212th.” 

“Bottom of the list...” You whispered, frowning lightly. How long will it take for you to reach the 501st Legion? 

The meeting concluded with a buzz of excitement. It was happening. For reals! In a few days, you will be flying out of Coruscant for the first time, following your dreams. 

Before the faithful day could arrive, you decided to reach the boys once more. You sat with anticipation, your knee bouncing as you waited for someone to answer. Finally, after several beeps, the projector came to life, and standing before you was Fives. 

“Fives! Thank the Maker,” you sighed in relief before glaring up at him. “Why hasn’t anyone returned my messages?”

The ARC Trooper lightly winced at your tone before smiling apologetically. “Sorry, songbird. The mission was a lot tougher than we first thought. But we finally liberated the planet from Separatist control. The boys and I are fine. I’m sorry for worrying you.” He said, frowning and eyes cast downward.

You opened your mouth to speak before shutting, looking away as well. “No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. We’re at war, and I know that you won’t always be there for our calls. I just....” You began to say but couldn’t finish your sentence.

“I know.” Fives stared at you, eyebrows knitted. “(Y/N)?” Looking back up, he was now smiling at you ever so sweetly that it made you blush. “Congrats on getting picked. I knew you would get in.”

You blinked up at the ARC trooper before smiling. The two of you spend a couple of hours talking, quickly making up for the lost time. You told him the battalions that you were going to visit, and he groaned in annoyance. “Why do we have to be at the bottom of the list?”

“I guess the 104th battalion are in dire need to put some smile on their faces—especially that sourpuss Wolffe.” You teased, causing Fives to laugh. 

“That’s going to be one hell of a challenge. I don’t think I saw Commander Wolffe smile before.”

“I welcome a challenge. And I’ll sure be the one to turn his scowl into a grin.” You puffed out your chest in pride.

Fives chuckles at your comical posture, lightly shaking his head. “If anyone can, it’s you.” You relax, returning to an upright position, looking back up at the trooper. The two of you stare at each other in silence, observing each other’s features. 

His armor was scuffed and dirtied. There are new scratches and dents throughout, roughing his paint job. His face looked tired, yet there was a glow in his eyes, staring at you in what it appears to be loving. 

“I can’t wait to see you again, pretty girl,” Fives spoke, breaking the silence.

That was a new nickname, and it caused you to blush once more. Despite feeling embarrassed, you smiled back. “Me too. Take care, okay?”

“Anything for my songbird,” he repeated all those weeks ago. 

.

.

.

.

Who knew participating in a singing campaign would last for so long. Then again, the war is still going on, so landing on Star Destroyers only happens when the surrounding area was safe. But it was all worth it. Seeing the joy on the troops’ faces and feeling their excitement as the music vibrated throughout the hanger was rewarding.

Working with the manager and group of artists was a great experience as well. Many of the singers were friendly, sharing their stories of how they got into music. Many of them were humans; one was a Twi’lek, another was a Pantoran, and a couple more alien species. Listening to them sing in their native tongue was thrilling, giving you goosebumps at the realization that there are so many cultures out there. So much more for you to learn, and what better place than here. 

As the list of locations was getting shorter, you felt more nervous and excited as you got closer to the 501st legion. You were going to see Fives and the others soon. It’s been months since you last saw them. I tried staying in touch with them via holoprojector, but it was getting more complicated since you were busy as well. But that will all change as you near the Star Destroyer that the famous boys in blue occupied. Although, you were nervous for an entirely different reason. You would do something big, having already talked about it to the manager, band, and fellow singers would help be your backup singers. You’re taking a big chance, and there’s no turning back now. 

The ship that you and the rest of the artist travel on docked, allowing the whole group to exit. The hangar will house the concert. That same space will also enable the troopers can dance and sing along. In a matter of hours, the soldiers set the stage, and the singers filed onto the hanger. Just like every other Star Destroyer, the stage is decked with standing spotlights and a curtain to act as a background. It also shields the rest of the group whenever they’re not performing.

You watched your fellow singers perform on stage, peeking from the corner of the curtain where the rest of the artists prepared themselves. As the crowd cheered and danced in place, your eyes scanned around the group. But at your current angle, you can’t see past the first few rows of troopers. So the only way to spot your boys is when you perform on stage. And it was happening real soon. 

Three more singers performed, some of them accompanied by background singers or dancers. Then, it was your turn. 

“Now, please welcome (Y/N)!” The manager introduced, and the crowd cheered as you walked on stage. Dressed in your performance outfit, you approached the microphone stand. Your eyes quickly scanned around the group, searching until a voice rang out from the sea of white and blue. 

“That’s my songbird!!!” 

Your eyes snapped to the source, and you softly gasped. There he was—your favorite ARC trooper.

Fives was waving his hands at you, a broad grin on his face. Standing by his sides were Echo, Hardcase, Jesse, and Kix. They were waving at you too, whistling and clapping their hands. They were all here. They are all safe and sound. You felt a weight come off your shoulders, blinking your eyes to fight back the tears. 

Gripping the microphone, you paused for a second before opening your mouth. Your voice projected throughout the hangar as you sang out your first couple of lyrics. “Oh, sometimes I get a good feeling, yeah/I get a feeling that I never, never, never had before no, no/And I just wanna tell you right now that I-/I believe, I really do believe that/Something’s got a hold on me.”

“(Oh, it must be love),” your backup singers sang softly after you. Drums began to play. A soft bass followed along as you continued to sing. Your feet carried you around the stage, feeling the beat. The large crowd of troopers resumed their dancing, stomping their feet and cheering as you reached the middle of your song. Standing at the center of the stage and facing forward, your eyes then locked to Fives’s as you sang out the next couple of lyrics. 

“My heart feels heavy, my feet feel light/I shake all over, but I feel alright/I never felt like this before/Something’s got a hold on me that won’t let go/I never thought it could happen to me/Got me happy when I’m in misery/I never thought it could be this way/Love’s sure gonna put a hurting on me.” 

The whole time, neither one of you broke eye contact. You can see the look of surprise appearing on the ARC trooper’s face before shifting to one of love, a smile decorating his face. The other boys looked surprised at your words before looking at Fives. It was evident that their brother had a thing for you since day one, but to have you tell him of your feelings ---incredibly so bold like this--- was shocking. But they began to cheer, Echo smacking Jesse’s back as his brother rolled his eyes before depositing a small number of credits. 

You grinned at the end of your song. Then, having witnessed the reaction from the boys, you blushed a bit. Glancing back at the band, you nodded your head. Drums began to play, followed by a couple of trumpets. “I met him out for dinner on a Friday night/He really got me working up an appetite,” you began to sing, moving your hips to the beat. The crowd started up again, dancing along to the sound of your voice. “He’s a one stop shop, makes my cherry pop/He’s a sweet talkin’, sugar coated candyman!”

“Well, by now, I’m getting all bothered and hot/When he kissed my mouth, it really hit the spot/He had lips like sugarcane/Good things come for boys who wait!” So you sang, smiling at Fives, who smirked back at you. The crowd was getting excited as you moved your hips rather proactively, your confidence rising after seeing Fives’s responses to your words. 

“He’s a one stop shop with a real big (ugh)/He’s a sweet-talkin’, sugar-coated candyman.” The crowd wolf-whistled at those words, but your focus was on Fives. You can see him biting his bottom lip, eyes heatedly watching you now. 

When the song finished, the band continued onto your final piece. You had perfectly planned this night. Your choice of songs were different than the ones from previous performances. This was your love letter to Fives. You love him, and it appears that he feels the same way. You don’t know when will be the next time that the two of you will see each other. You would have loved to tell him your feelings differently, but like how you said before, singing is what you know best.

“Ain’t no other man can stand up next to you/Ain’t no other man on the planet does what you do/You’re the kinda guy a girl finds in a blue moon/You got soul, you got class, you got style with your bad ass/Ain’t no other man, it’s true/Ain’t no other man but you!”

Your performance ended with a loud round of applause. You were softly panting, sweat trickling down your neck, eyes watching Fives. He was clapping the hardest, using two fingers to whistle. A bright smile came to your face, thanking everyone before retreating to the back of the stage. 

“What are you waiting for?!” Jesse shouted, a smirk on his face before lightly shoving Fives. “Go after her!” Echo encouraged, followed by a thumbs up from Hardcase and a nod from Kix. 

Without wasting another second, Fives rush past his brothers, being careful not to bump into anyone as the next singer came to the stage. It didn’t take him long to reach the side of the stage, but two non-clone guards stopped him. “Sorry, sir, but no one is allowed back here.”

“It’s okay! He’s a friend,” you quickly intervene. The guards relaxed, allowing you to approach the ARC trooper. All that confidence from being on stage was dripping away. Now, your heart was racing, and your cheeks felt like they were on fire. Fives smirked as your cheeks darken in color, your blush reaching down your neck to the tips of your ears. 

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed now, cyar’ika.” Fives chuckled as he took his hand in his. 

You laughed nervously, letting Fives pull you away from the group of singers and towards a more secluded area of the hangar. “M-maybe a little,” you admitted before rounding a corner. Both of you were now hiding the two of you behind a starfighter, Fives gently pressing you against a stack of heavy crates. A hand laid on your hip while the other laid on the containers, trapping you in place. “I told you never sang in front of a large crowd.”

“Could have fooled me,” he responded as his hand on the crates moved to cup the side of your face. You slowly relaxed under his touch before gently leaning into his palm, looking up at him with hooded eyes. 

“I meant every word, Fives.” You said in a hushed tone, your cheeks still flushed. You raised your hands up, before wrapping your arms around his neck, gently pulling him down to you, until the tip of your noses brushed. “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Fives moaned, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you flushed against his armor. 

“I love you, Fives.” 

What little space was between you two was gone, as Fives leaned forward, capturing your lips. It wasn’t a light kiss nor a deep one, but still full of passion. It was something that the two of you wanted. A moan escaped you as Fives pressed his tongue into your mouth, your hands moved to cup his cheeks, his hand cradling the back of your neck. “Ner cyar'ika laar senaar,” he purred against your lips after parting to breathe, before pecking your lips a couple of times. Hearing speak in Mando’a caused you to shiver in excitement, which he felt against his hands. 

“You liked that?” He growled before nipping your neck, causing you to gasp. “There’s more where that came from.” You then felt his hips press and grind against yours, releasing another moan from you. 

“There a few more singers left. Plenty of time for it,” you smirked before taking his hand. “And I know the perfect place where you can show me everything.” You both raced back to the ship that you arrived in. You both definitely had enough time, returning back to the hangar but the way you were walking, it was obvious what had occurred. 

You didn’t care how the boys teased you, or how the other singers looked shock, or flustered. You are in complete bliss, having Fives at your side and holding his hand for the rest of the evening. 

---------

A/N: Thanks again for reading! I have another fan fic in mind, but I should really focus on my finals first!

Ner cyar'ika laar senaar = My darling song bird

[casuallyimagining]

Mutual Feelings

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is nervous because you haven’t told him you love him; you have an important question for him. Genre: fluff Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

If, last year, someone had asked Jungkook if he was cool with being in a relationship with someone who seemed physically resistant to saying the words ‘I love you’ in a meaningful way, he would have said absolutely not. Jungkook’s a patient man, but even he has limits. He likes to feel solid in his relationships, likes to not have any questions left on the table. He thinks he’s an open book, and he likes his partners to be the same way.

When he let those three words slip out not even a month into your relationship, he had mentally kicked himself. He had thought it was too soon, but he was trying to reassure you and they had tumbled out of his fat mouth before he could stop them. As it turned out, he hadn’t stopped saying them since.

You, on the other hand, had somehow gone from the cheerful ‘I love you’s whispered between friends to not saying it at all, not even after he had said it, and not ever since. He had grown so used to them during your six years of friendship that going six months without felt a little empty.

You weren’t ready. It was a big step for you, and he understood. He just wished he knew if there was any way for him to help you want to take that step. That, coupled with the fact that intimacy beyond kissing was off the table meant that Jungkook was more unsure in this relationship than he had ever been before.

This was all so new. He’d had girlfriends in the past, but in the years of knowing you, he’d never heard you talk about anyone significant in your life. He wasn’t sure if you’d never dated anyone, or if you’d never dated anyone that mattered, but at this point, he wasn’t sure that was important. Your friendship meant the world to him–you meant the world to him–and he was just so worried about losing that.

So he was second guessing himself constantly. Was he wrong to tell you he loved you so soon? Did he make a mistake in assuming you would want to see him both at work and at home every day? Had he been too forward when he drunkenly asked you out? Not forward enough the next day when you confronted him about it? Did he make enough time for you? Was he letting you know how he felt often enough, or was he smothering you?

Jungkook had thought that he had known you so well back when you were still just friends, but now… he had trouble reading you. He supposed that it was because you wouldn’t outright tell him how you felt.

Although, it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. Hearing the words would be nice, but the fact that you didn’t say them didn’t mean you didn’t feel them. And Jungkook definitely felt loved.

He felt it when he pushed himself too hard at rehearsals and performances. Not only were you there to take care of him, you scolded him for not taking care of himself. He knew you appreciated his work ethic and dedication, but the fact that you could hold an ice pack to his neck, pet his hair, and yell at him all at the same time honestly made his heart swell.

And he felt it when he screwed up his heel in London. You were there, distracting him from the pain before the concert, and helping pick him up when it was over. He had been devastated to not be able to perform, to be confined to a chair on stage, but having you dote on him afterwards almost made it better. And while you weren’t dating at the time, Jungkook knew that you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing again, since every time there was even the threat of an injury, you were at his side.

It was there when he had showed up on your doorstep with a dog and you had just gone with it. He had rightfully expected some pushback, but he hadn’t quite expected just how quickly you had agreed. He prepared a speech! He had rehearsed that speech the whole way from the pet store to your apartment! But he loved that you trusted him enough to take in his dog, he loved that you were comfortable enough around him to be spontaneous like that, and he loved that, even in just the couple weeks that you had Kimchi, you had fallen in love with the puppy. He may have paid the adoption fees, but you both knew that Kimchi had quickly become your dog.

He felt it when you jumped to defend him, like his own personal knight in shining armor, fighting for his honor. It didn’t matter if it was something you saw on Twitter, one of the other guys, or even himself–you got heated about it all the same. You had a secret account on almost every social platform just to yell at people on his behalf. You would playfully scold the guys when their teasing got a little too intense. And you always stopped him when he got too down on himself. In fact, you had been the one to first introduce him to the “you shouldn’t be mean to my best friend” rebuke.

He even felt it in how fiercely competitive you could be. Jungkook loved that you could go from defending him in one breath to threatening to smother him in his sleep in the next. He had gotten you into Overwatch, and he had expanded his gaming repertoire based on your tastes, and honestly he was never happier than he was curled up in bed playing video games with you, and at this point, he was convinced that you felt the same.

It was there in the late night texts you sent him when the two of you spent the night apart, and in the early morning phone calls he received the following morning. It didn’t matter if the two of you were in different timezones, you always texted him goodnight. And while he might not always be awake enough to respond, he had started looking forward to those short messages. And then the next morning, he was always happy to answer the phone when you called, even if you woke him up with the call. There was something about your cheerful ‘good morning!,’ especially if he knew it was three in the afternoon for you.

So while he definitely would prefer to hear you say it, Jungkook supposed that he could wait a little longer, because your actions spoke louder than any words.

He thought about this as he worked, the task of washing that night’s dinner dishes mindless enough that he could safely let his mind wander without risking too much. You, too, were in your own little world, drying the dishes and bopping around to the music blasting out of the little bluetooth speaker you kept in your kitchen.

Dinner had been tense that night. Not because anything was particularly wrong–or, at least, Jungkook didn’t know of anything that was wrong–just because you seemed incredibly nervous, and he wasn’t sure why. But the entire time you helped him cook and while the two of you were sitting in front of the tv watching YouTube videos and eating, he could feel the nervous energy rolling off you. He wanted to ask, but every time it crossed his mind, it didn’t seem like a good time.

The song changed, Jungkook smiled at the opening notes to “My Time” wafting out of the speaker. He loved that you loved his music. You grabbed the wet skillet off the counter as you started to hum along, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Once it was dry, you placed the skillet on your stove–you used it for everything, so he supposed you never saw the need to properly put it away.

You continued to hum as he let the water out of the sink, the dishes finally complete. With a sigh, you tossed your towel down on the counter and leaned against the cabinets below, watching him rinse the last of the bubbles down the drain.

“So I’ve been thinking.” Jungkook noted the hint of nerves in your voice. “And, I mean, you’re totally allowed to say no to this, I just figured I’d ask-”

“Babe. Breathe,” he joked, flicking some water off his hands in your direction. You giggled, leaning away slightly from his attack. He placed a hand on your hip, tugging slightly and pulling you closer. His other arm snaked around your waist as soon as you were close enough, holding you loosely against his body.

“I was wondering,” you started again, placing your hands on his chest and playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “If maybe you wanted to move in?”

Jungkook could feel his heart start to pound in his chest. He was sure that you could feel it, being as close as you were. Was this what you were nervous about earlier?

“I mean, you’re over here most of the time, anyway. And Kimchi’s here.” You glanced at the brown and tan dog napping under your breakfast nook. “I know the dorm’s convenient, so if you want to leave some stuff there, that’s fine. But I wanted to offer.”

He couldn’t help the goofy smile spreading across his face. Honestly, Jungkook hadn’t expected your relationship to move this far this quickly. But he wasn’t complaining. At this point, a good majority of his clothes were at your apartment–he still had the bag tucked into your closet, but he had also lost count of the number of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts he had left here that he just hadn’t bothered to take back to the dorm. His laptop was here, his PS4 was here, his dog was here, you were here, and really, that’s all he needed.

“Sure.” He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. You looked happy, which only made his smile grow. He could feel his face start to heat up, and for a second, he felt like a teenager again, confronted by his noona crush. It was weird–and a little fitting considering the song that was still playing–for him to realize that he had never had that experience in school. “I would like that a lot.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook nodded, his hand covering yours on his chest. “We’re going to need new furniture.” Your eyes sparkled as you said it, and he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

“Please tell me you didn’t just ask me to move in so you had an excuse to get a new couch.”

You hummed, one of your hands tangling in the long hair at the back of his neck. You smiled at him–it was innocent enough, but he could see mischief in it, too. “Not at all.” Your lips brushed against his softly. “But if we could celebrate the occasion with a new couch, who am I to argue?”

Jungkook laughed and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He felt it then, too, standing there in your kitchen, your arms wrapped tightly around him. You didn’t need to say it, not yet at least. He knew.

You loved him. And the feeling was absolutely mutual.

Read more of the series here

[angryinternetduck]

When All Feels Lost Chapter Three: We'll Be Alright Nerves, fancy boas, a phoenix rising from the ashes. A princess is left on a cliffhanger, Harry's a dramatic Renoir painting, and you dive in headfirst. It won't be an easy ride, but you'll be alright. Warnings: Explicit language and more of the heavy topics from last chapter. about 8,000 words << prev chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | ask ~*~ “You look nervous,” Harry murmurs into your ear as he appears next to you. His hand hovers at your waist, charm turned up high as he gives smiles and waves to the people walking into the theater.

You shrug, keeping your own smile on your face as you say, “Looks can be deceiving.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Harry tells you anyway.

“Sure hope so.”

Around you, the theater looks nothing less than glorious. All the lights are on, a warm golden against the deep burgundy of the walls and carpet. Diamonds glitter, shoes shine, dress hems flirt with the floor.

There’s a low hum of chatter from the masses of people filtering through the lobby and making their way to their seats. Lights in the chandelier hanging miles above you twinkle and clink as they shift in the soft breeze floating through the open doors.

Despite what you told Harry, he’s right; you’re nervous as hell.

Which makes sense. It’s opening night. Of course you’re nervous.

Your first scene is a few scenes into the second act, meaning you have plenty of time to help Harry greet everyone up front before heading backstage to get ready. It’s quite different than all of your previous opening night experiences, but it’s no less nerve-wracking. In fact, it’s significantly more nerve-wracking because of how much is riding on its failure.

A small man wearing a beret and large glasses catches your attention, and you nudge Harry so he sees him too. Harry nods, confirming your suspicions: that’s the critic from The New Yorker.

Harry wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Laughing slightly, you walk over to the critic and start to fiddle with your purse. He looks up, thick eyebrows furrowing at the sight of you. “Hello,” he says curtly, and you smile at him. “Hi,” you reply. “You’re here for Fatigue?”

“Yes.”

“A critic?” you go on.

“Yes.”

You clear your throat, slipping your hand into your purse. Lowering the small bag to waist height and glancing around to ensure no one’s looking your way, you murmur, “I’m a co-producer of this fantastic play...” You shift your fingers to show him a few hundred dollar bills. “And I’m sure your review will be nothing less than spectacular, correct?”

The critic scoffs, eyes widening, and he whips off his glasses in rage. “You dare attempt bribe me?” he hisses. “You think I, a critic of high moral and dignity, can be swayed by a few measly dollar bills?”

You struggle to hide your grin.

“I can assure you, madam,” the critic continues, “this review will be short and honest.”

“Oh, no,” you say.

The critic scowls at you, barks a crisp, “Goodbye,” and storms out of the theater.

Turning around, you meet Harry’s gaze and snap your fingers in a sarcastic oh, drats sort of fashion. Harry grins, and this time you don’t hide your own smile as you mirror his expression and walk back to him.

“Too easy,” you tell him.

Harry smiles. “And now we wait for, uh - Joe,” he says, reading an email on his phone.

“Joe,” you echo.

“Dziemianowicz.”

You blink. "What’d you just call me?”

Harry snickers and tilts his phone so you can see the name on the screen. Sure enough, it says Joe Dziemianowicz. “‘The esteemed critic from the New York Times,’” you read. “I’m sure he’ll love this.”

Harry shakes his head. “I certainly hope he doesn’t.”

“Right,” you say. “How do you know he won’t react like, uh - like The New Yorker guy?”

“Because I’m such a charmer,” Harry replies with a sweet smile.

You raise a brow. “And I’m not?”

“You are,” Harry says, shrugging. “When you want to be.”

“You flatter me,” you deadpan.

Harry grins. “I do try my hardest.” He points out a guy with a notebook under his arm, then tells you, “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah? Make sure D’Angelo’s not fainted yet.” He walks off, and you watch him for a second.

The plan is to get as many awful reviews as possible. Most of them should just come naturally - no one could watch the play and give it any positive comments at all - but you’re guaranteeing two of them to be absolutely horrific with bribes.

The critic you just attempted to bribe from The New Yorker should give some sort of irate nonsense about the dishonorable intentions of the producers of the surely terrible Fatigue. As for the fellow Harry’s heading for, his review will be more detailed in its critique. Harry’s goal is to actually bribe this Joe Dziemianowicz successfully - but for a bad review.

As Harry begins his explanation to Mr. Dziemianowicz, you slip through the crowds until you reach backstage, where D’Angelo is, in fact, on the brink of losing consciousness. He’s taking small sips of water from a glass in which you can see small pink feathers floating. They’re probably from the large pink boa he’s wearing over his suit, which is a slightly jarring green color covered in tiny pink butterflies.

“Angel,” you greet him, giving him a hug.

“Oh, Magenta,” D’Angelo replies woefully. “It’s a disaster. A complete and utter disaster.”

You sigh. “It hasn’t even started.”

“Oh, but when it does, it shall go down in flames.”

“And from the ashes shall rise a phoenix.”

D’Angelo gives you a faint smile. “I do adore you, darling.”

“And I you,” you say with a grin. “Come on, Angel, we have a play to put on.” You gently lead him through the dressing tables, where everyone’s getting ready. Someone glues orange lashes on while another person zips their dress; an actor expertly quiffs his hair in the corner with a loud can of hairspray.

“Your optimism… is inspiring,” D’Angelo murmurs, absentmindedly fixing someone’s collar as he passes. “That’s the goal,” you tell him, taking his glass of water from him when he holds it out to free both his hands. He takes a makeup brush and palette out of a girl’s hand and begins to brush some product on her face. She looks slightly startled, but doesn’t say anything.

“Where’s your Harry?” he asks as he works. “Charming the audience, I presume?”

You start to reply, stop, and then decide on, “Um… probably.”

“He certainly has a way about him, doesn’t he,” D’Angelo muses.

You clear your throat and look down, smiling involuntarily. “Yeah.”

D’Angelo sighs. “You must remember to keep your head up.”

Impulsively, you snap your chin up straight, then realize he’s talking to the girl whose makeup he’s doing. “And keep your voice up as well,” D’Angelo continues. “Project, my dear. You have a very pretty voice.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Also,” D’Angelo adds, handing her makeup products back, “your blouse is inside out.”

Flushing through her makeup, the girl looks down at her blouse, which is, in fact, inside out. The tag waves at you from her neckline. She looks a bit horrified, and she hurries away to correct it as D’Angelo ambles on.

“Have you talked it out yet?” he asks. “With Harry?”

You frown. “Huh?”

“Oh, you know,” D’Angelo hums, giving you a lazy smile. “The ‘what are we’ talk.”

You’re too surprised to even reply, but D’Angelo takes your surprise for denial. “Oh, don’t play coy, Magenta. To steal the wise words of Miss Swift” - he clears his throat - “you could see it with the lights out.”

“Sometimes,” you tell him, “you’re just a bit too dramatic.”

He catches your eye. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

You hold his gaze. “You are.”

“Your acting talent is astounding,” D’Angelo murmurs, looking away.

“I think I preferred your hopeless talk of your failing play.”

His brows jump. “My failing play,” he echoes incredulously.

“Our failing play,” you amend.

“Go find Harry, darling,” D’Angelo tells you with a smile, “and stop bothering me.”

You grin. “If you insist. Break a leg, Angel.”

“I’ll break yours if you keep talking,” he says. “Run along, now.”

***

The theater, sweeping out below you in a magnificent blend of golds and reds, is truly breathtaking. You’re in the balcony seats reserved for you and Harry now, watching the chatter and buzz of the people below.

You nudge him and echo his words from earlier. “You look nervous.”

“I am,” he mutters.

“Don’t be.”

He laughs wryly, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands. “Gee, that fixes everything.” You sigh and sit back in the chair, looking down at the stage. “It’ll work. There’s no way it won’t.”

“I know,” Harry says softly, looking up.

There’s a beat of silence. You’re not sure what to say. Then the lights begin to dim, and Harry leans back again. In the darkness, you feel his hand find yours. He squeezes your hand, then lets go.

The conversation fades, and Charlie Manswell, playing Leopold Gray the retired FBI agent, walks out onto stage. He looks even more nervous than Harry does; you can see his hands shaking from all the way up here.

The play drags on. Neither you nor Harry says a word at all. Tension settles, heavy and dense, thickening in the air between you and Harry. An hour in, a group of people walk out. Low murmurs sound throughout the theater, and then it goes quiet once more.

You and Harry exchange a glance.

A few minutes before intermission, you go down to start getting ready for your part. Backstage, D’Angelo has calmed down significantly. He looks to be in a bit of a daze, holding his half-empty glass of water in both hands.

“Ah, Magenta,” he greets you when you say hi. “Just in time. Your costume’s over with Madeline… Stay away from the makeup, darling, Madeline will do it for you.” A smile teases the corners of his lips. “No more catastrophes, thank you…”

“I’ll try my best,” you reply, walking over to get changed. Your nerves intensify as you get dressed and made up. A swarm of butterflies turns your stomach over, adrenaline spikes through your veins, sweat gathers in your palms.

Standing in the wings just out of sight, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. The lights dim, the curtain lifts, and you open your eyes. Your gaze darts over the crowd, struggling to see anything through the bright lights.

It takes a second to process, but a grin’s breaking out across your face almost before you can fully form the thought: the theater’s practically empty. People must have walked out during the intermission, you realize with a quiet, giddy laugh.

Charlie, standing on stage, must have noticed too; his voice wavers just slightly through his first few lines. You feel a twinge of sympathy for him. Despite everything, you do feel terribly for all the actors who really are taking this seriously. They’ll still get their cut, though, if not a great review in the newspapers.

When you see your cue, you walk out and begin to act.

Ridiculously, it feels good to be on stage again. Even if it’s doomed to fail, if it’s a joke, if your already nonexistent reputation will almost certainly take a nosedive after this play even if it’s the best performance of your life.

The second half of the play goes much faster than the first. You’re taking bows before you realize, and you smile happily not because of rambunctious applause, but because of the few scattered claps you receive from the nearly empty audience.

Harry’s giving you a standing ovation from his box.

Backstage is quiet after the curtain falls. D’Angelo, surprisingly, is the most cheerful, popping around and giving everyone enthusiastic feedback. He’s exchanged his glass of water for a flute of champagne, which he sips at elegantly in between words.

“Wonderful job, darling, positively splendid,” he says to you, patting your cheek. To Harry, he adds, “And wonderful play, Mr. Styles. The reviews shall be the first of their kind.” A grin begins to spread across your face, and D’Angelo winks at you before whisking off to console someone crying by the mirrors.

“The first of their kind,” Harry echoes under his breath.

You laugh and reply, “He got that right.”

“Let’s get food,” Harry suggests. “I’m starved.”

Nodding, you tell him, “I’ll meet you at the diner,” and grab your stuff to change out of your costume. He walks off, saying goodbyes as he leaves. After changing into something more comfortable, you do the same, hugging D’Angelo goodbye and talking with a few people on your way out.

A Fleetwood Mac song is playing on the jukebox when you walk into the diner. Harry’s chewing french fries, staring out the window. He looks pensive, and you tell him that as you slide into the booth.

“I am,” he admits quietly. Then he tacks on, “Worried” like it hurts to say. “I’m worried.”

You bite your lip, watching him for a second. His eyes are downcast. “Your ringer’s on, right?” you ask, nodding at his cell phone. Harry nods, picking it up. “She’ll call,” he murmurs, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself.

“She will,” you assure him. It’s the company manager you’re talking about, who will hopefully decide that between the attendance - or lack thereof - and horrific reviews, she can’t keep your play open any longer.

“Ninety percent of the theater walked out,” you go on. “There’s no way they won’t close us.” Harry shrugs, leaning back and clearing his throat. “Er… yeah. Yeah.” He nods, an air of finality around him as if he’s done talking about it.

Tapping your fingers against the table, you hesitate for a second before speaking again. “Not to… pry or anything, but what happened with you and her?” you ask. “Gwen? The company manager?”

Harry’s brows jump. “What makes you ask that?”

A tad embarrassed, you shake your head. “Oh, it’s… nothing. Just with… Aurora… and what you said about, uh - Tanner Smith liking your old… girlfriend… presumably…” You laugh, a bit awkwardly. “But you don’t have to answer that. Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Harry says. He shrugs, looking at his glass of water. “Yeah, we had a thing. It was a while ago. We, erm… We were pretty close.” A small smile curves his lips as he traces shapes in the condensation on the glass, and your gaze shifts to the window.

“We worked on a project, a big play we wrote together… Smith helped with that. She’s gorgeous, Gwen…” He pauses again. You regret asking. Finally, he clears his throat and goes on, “Er, but yeah, he took a liking to her. That’s really the only reason he still invests in anything, I think. He keeps hoping she’ll come back.”

He looks up, giving a wry laugh. “She won’t. Aurora scared her off. I brought her to the hospital and she kind of… It was too much. She was a little bit… she wasn’t very…” He clears his throat. “Nice with her. With - er, with Aurora…” His smile fades into something a little bit more genuine, and he meets your eye. “Not nearly as nice as you are with her.”

You frown.

Another bit of a pause, and he looks back at his glass. “But, erm… yeah, Gwen wasn’t a huge fan of the whole… taking-care-of-a-sick-child-in-the-hospital thing. She said all this stuff about commitment and not even wanting -” His jaw clenches, and he makes faint air quotes with his fingers as he mutters, “‘Normal kids’, much less a kid that…” He fades off. “I dunno. Wasn’t great. So.” He looks up and shrugs. “That’s that.”

“Wow,” you breathe. “I’m - I’m sorry. That’s awful.”

“Don’t be,” Harry sighs. “It’s over now.” He gives you a half-smile, popping a fry into his mouth. “I’ve gone and ruined the mood, haven’t I?” You shake your head and reply, “I asked.” You half-smile back at him. “If anything, it’s my fault.”

“If you insist,” Harry says. “Come on, tell me something good.”

You raise a brow. “Like what?”

He smiles big, nudging your foot gently under the table. “We’re going to Rio.”

You smile big too, because he’s not even kidding. You booked the tickets with him a few days ago. The plan is to get out of the country for a while until everything settles down. You’ll avoid a few calls, lay low, then come back to thousands of dollars and all your problems solved.

“I can’t wait to go to the beach,” you murmur, leaning back against the booth.

Harry hums in agreement. “You’ll love the view,” he says.

“You’ve been?” you ask.

Harry shakes his head, a stupid smile on his face. “Nah. But the view of me in my little yellow swim shorts can make up for any underwhelming scenery.” You scoff a laugh and echo, “Little yellow swim shorts?”

“They’re fantastic, darling,” Harry assures you with a big grin. “We’ll have to go shopping so we can match.” You nod, giggling despite yourself. “Forget the beach, I can’t wait for that.” Harry nods sagely. “It’ll be great.”

You crack jokes with him about his swim attire the whole way home.

The phone doesn’t ring once.

***

The second night is not nearly as exciting as the first. The lobby is empty. A few people filter in, but there were significantly more tickets bought than the number of attendees. As far as you know, there aren’t any more ticket sales, either.

You’re somehow even more uneasy than you were last night. Harry is, too. Nobody says anything. It’s just a bunch of nervous looks and heavy silence. Backstage is quiet, too. D’Angelo is the only one saying anything at all. His voice is lower, though, and even his orange boa seems to be a bit lifeless.

The play seems to take hours. People walk out. It’s getting a bit depressing - you realize that’s your goal, for the theater to be totally empty, but it’s really quite difficult to act to a nonexistent audience.

Backstage is quiet after the play, too. You get changed and walk out to meet Harry, brows jumping when you see him talking to a woman you don’t recognize. She’s tall and thin and blonde, sunglasses perched on top of her head. Her clothing is casual, just a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Hello,” you say hesitantly as you walk up to them.

“Hey, there,” the woman greets you. Bright blue eyes meet yours, and she smiles as she sticks her hand out for you to shake. Her nails are painted a light pink. You match her smile and shake her hand, introducing yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” she says. “I’m Gwen.”

Ah, you think. You steal a glance at Harry, who looks a bit tense.

You clear your throat. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Yeah,” she replies, laughing a little. “I, uh… Yeah. Well, uh, I was just starting to talk to H about Fatigue. And, um… I’m sorry, but I’m not sure you’ll be happy to hear our decision…” You look at Harry again, and he doesn’t meet your eye.

“That doesn’t sound good,” you say, because Harry stays quiet.

“Well, I think you’ve seen the reception,” Gwen says. “And there hasn’t been a single ticket sale since before it opened last night.” She sighs, a sympathetic look on her face as her gaze bounces between you and Harry. “I’m afraid we just can’t afford to keep it open any longer.”

“We understand,” Harry says, finally speaking up. His hand slides into yours, surprising you, and you watch Gwen’s eyes flick down to catch the action. “We’ll go tell everyone,” Harry goes on. “It was nice seeing you, Gwen.”

He leads you away, and you nod goodbye at Gwen a tad awkwardly over your shoulder.

“You okay?” you ask quietly once she’s out of earshot.

You see his jaw flex, but he doesn’t answer for a moment. He pulls his hand away from yours and runs it through his hair, and then, barely loud enough for you to hear, he says, “That was my sweatshirt.”

“Oh,” you say, wincing.

“I can’t believe her,” he mutters. “Christ.”

You pause a second, unsure what to say, then decide, “I’m surprised she didn’t just call.”

Harry just shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just… We’ll have to tell them. They should hear it from us.” You nod and murmur, “D’Angelo will be devastated.” Harry sighs, pushing open the door. “I’m sure he saw it coming.”

Everyone looks up when the two of you walk in.

As soon as D’Angelo sees your expressions, he finishes the last of his champagne in one gulp. He sighs, holding your gaze, and then speaks to Harry. “How’s your lovely Gwen doing, then?” he asks breezily, his easy tone a sharp contrast to his strained body language.

“I’m not sure,” Harry says quietly. “We didn’t talk much.”

D’Angelo hums lowly. “It’s not good news, I presume?”

“No,” you say. “No, it’s… it’s not.”

“Finished, are we?” D’Angelo asks.

Both you and Harry hesitate.

And then Harry answers, “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” you add weakly.

D’Angelo raises his empty champagne flute. “It was a valiant effort.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then everyone looks away and begins packing up their things. Low chatter breaks out, and D’Angelo slowly drifts over to the half-empty bottle of champagne in the corner. He inspects the label, swirls it around, and then takes a drink directly from the bottle.

Harry clears his throat next to you. “I was planning to go to the hospital,” he murmurs.

“Yeah, that’s a - that’s a good idea,” you reply with a nod.

You lock eyes, just for a moment, and then Harry turns away.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” he says, and walks off.

You say your goodbyes and follow Harry out.

***

“You’re… leaving?” Aurora gasps, eyes wide and beginning to glisten.

Harry squeezes her hand and tells her, “Just for a while.”

“A while?” she echoes, a tear rolling down her cheek. “But - but -”

“We’ll be back before you know it, princess,” you murmur from behind Harry.

Harry nods. “You’ll blink and we’ll be back.”

Aurora hiccups a sob, chin wobbling as her gaze darts between you and Harry. “But we’re almost done with - with Trumpet,” she whispers. “You can’t leave me on a - a hill - a hang - a rock -” She breaks off with another sob, pulling away from Harry to wipe at her nose with her little hand.

Your heart cracks in two. “A cliffhanger,” you whisper.

“You can’t leave me!” Aurora cries.

“We’re not, baby,” Harry insists, voice cracking. “I promise, we’ll be back.”

Aurora sniffles, crossing her arms over her chest and stubbornly looking at the other end of the room, away from either of you. “Just go,” she whimpers. Harry reaches out, and she jerks away, closing her eyes as tears fall faster.

“We’ll be back,” Harry promises again, voice barely audible.

“Go away!” Aurora sobs, and she burrows under the blankets.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, looking hopeless, and you place your hands on his shoulders. “Come on,” you say softly. “She’ll come around. We’ll call her. FaceTime.” Harry closes his eyes, just for a second, and then stands up.

“We’ll… we’ll be right back,” he murmurs.

No response.

“I love you, okay?” he tries. “And I promise… I promise we’ll be… right back…”

Still nothing.

Harry wipes his face and clears his throat. “Bye, Aurora,” he whispers.

Aurora just sniffles again, pulling the blanket further over her head.

Gently, you take Harry’s hand and guide him out.

“It’ll all be worth it,” you tell him, squeezing his hand.

Harry nods and squeezes your hand back, silent.

***

Everything’s packed.

The money has been transferred to several offshore accounts, safe to stay unnoticed until everything’s settled down and you and Harry can start slowly shifting it back into your own accounts.

The plane ride is a bit tense. Harry brought a deck of cards, of course, and you trade magic tricks and play games of Go Fish and Gin Rummy. He chews gum and you giggle watching him attempt to blow bubbles.

It’s hot in Rio. Harry holds your hand as you navigate the airport and the buses to your hotel. It’s a relief to finally arrive, to collapse onto the big fluffy bed and sprawl out in the glorious air conditioning.

The first night, the two of you order room service and eat dinner while watching TV.

And the phone. You watch the phone, too.

Every so often, your gazes will both drift to the phone at the same time, and you’ll catch his eye and give a half-smile. You’re waiting for a call from an investor, of course, demanding where their money is and why the hell they haven’t been able to reach you.

In reality, there’s no way they’ll think of you. The play has probably already been forgotten. Individually, each person gave such a small amount that they probably forgot about it days after they signed the papers. To think that they’d not only remember your play but that they’d be angry that you lost their money is ridiculous.

There’s no way.

It’s silly to think about, really, and whenever you find yourself worrying, you take a breath and think about how mind-boggling your situation is. You’re in a hotel room in Rio de Janeiro that’s almost as big as your entire apartment.

The hotel room you’re in is large. It’s a suite. The bathroom’s ginormous, the closet’s practically just as big, and the desk is a rich, dark oak color fit with huge drawers and a bright lamp. There are two small couches situated in front of the windows, right in front of the door to the little balcony just outside.

Huge windows look out over the glittering city, and far in the distance, you can see the Christ the Redeemer statue. Twinkling lights wink at you, brightly colored in the pitch-black night. Trees sway in the light breeze, and the softest sound of music can be heard even as far from the city as you are.

In a suite as big as this, there are two beds. Harry falls asleep in the same bed you do anyway, on the opposite side. You don’t think about it until the next morning when you realize both of you somehow gravitated to the middle, and you’re curled into his side with your head on his chest.

The sound of birds wakes you up. You’re struck with the oddest of feelings; everything is just so surreal you’re not even sure where to begin. It’s so much more pleasant than it should be to just lay there, reveling in how content you are nestled up to this guy you used to despise with all your being.

Then, suddenly, your heart begins to ache, because you realize you haven’t gotten around to letting him know just how much your feelings towards him have changed. Nothing’s happened since that kiss, and it hurts.

It hurts just to think about it, and being right next to him like this isn’t helping. You roll out of bed, wash your face with cold water, push all of those thoughts out of your mind. It’s not worth the stress.

Harry stirs as you brew a cup of coffee, sitting up and running a hand through his hair with his eyes still half shut. “Smells good,” he mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. “Coffee,” you tell him, lifting your now full cup. “Want some?”

He nods, stretching up towards the ceiling before flopping back down. “Mhmm.”

You start another cup, then turn around and lean on the dresser, watching him while you take a hesitant sip of your scalding coffee. You can see his chest rising and falling gently, and his swallows peek out of his white t-shirt. He’s on his back, head to the side, morning sunlight reflecting through the trees by the window and splashing over his face like he’s in some dramatic Renoir painting.

The coffee maker sputters to a stop. You blink, feeling like an absolute creep for just staring at him like this, and hurriedly turn around to grab the cup. Harry sits up as you walk over, and after handing him his cup, you sit on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs and cradling your warm coffee in both hands.

He takes a sip, and his eyes flutter shut blissfully. “Bloody hell,” he sighs.

“Jesus,” you laugh. “It’s not that good.”

He pouts at you. “It’s fucking incredible.”

“Guess it’s those Brazilian nuts.”

Harry grins. “Damn right,” he says.

He holds your gaze for just a second, smile still in his eyes, and you have to look away.

Standing up, you clear your throat and turn to look out the window. “We should… go somewhere, or… something,” you say. There’s a beat of silence, and then he laughs, just a little, and you’re looking over at him again before you can stop yourself.

“What?” you ask, and you can’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

He giggles at you. “I - we’re in Rio, and you think we wouldn’t go somewhere?”

You scoff, shaking your head as your face heats a bit. “Hey, I don’t know!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he tells you, still smiling, and he stands up and runs his hands through his hair as he stretches again. “We can take a walk,” he suggests. “Get to know the place.” You nod, looking down into your coffee.

“Sounds good,” you say.

***

“It’ll have six bedrooms.”

Harry grins. “Eight bathrooms.”

“Twelve kitchens.”

“Fifteen pools.”

“Twenty - uh… Twenty… fireplaces…?”

Harry laughs, shaking his head, and takes your hand, swinging it up and down. You’re walking along a beach, sand slipping under your flip-flops and sinking under your feet. You’ve just finished breakfast, and you feel perfectly content.

“I’ve always wanted to build my own house,” Harry says.

“Missed opportunity in construction?”

Harry frowns and amends, “Er - well, more design my own house.”

You nudge his hip, smiling. “Think you’d look good in one of those orange hard hats.”

“Thought you’d prefer something else that’s hard…”

You scoff a laugh. “Wow. Coming on strong for ten in the morning.”

“Sorry,” Harry laughs. “Too much?”

“Maybe just wait a few more hours. Let me get something better than coffee in me.”

“Asking me to get you drunk?”

You just shrug, grinning at him.

“I’ll take you up on that,” Harry says.

There’s a beat of silence, and you watch your hand, intertwined with Harry’s, still swaying back and forth. The waves gently crash against the shore, birds chirping away in the distance.

After a second, you clear your throat. “So,” you say, “you kissed me.”

Harry gazes off at the water. “Did I?”

You stop walking. You open your mouth to reply, then close it again.

He looks at you, and there’s a smirk on his lips. “Don’t remember that,” he says.

You’re not sure how to respond. Hurt rushes through you, then anger, confusion, and -

“I think I’ll have to do it again,” he goes on. “See if it rings any bells.”

Relief floods your body. You smile, just slightly. “Right,” you breathe. “Guess you will.”

He kisses you, softly, hand cupping your cheek gently. He touches you gingerly, like you’ll break, like you’ll pull away, like he’s a little scared. So you’re the one to lean into him, you’re the one to slide a hand onto the nape of his neck and pull him closer, grinning against his lips and giggling when he smiles too.

“You’re a bastard for that,” you tell him when you pull away, a bit breathlessly.

“For what?” he asks innocently.

You roll your eyes. “Pretending you didn’t remember.”

“Sorry,” he says, kissing you once more.

He takes your hand, starting to walk again, letting silence linger for just a second. He’s looking at the sand, smile fading away. He looks like he’s in deep thought, and you squeeze his hand. “You okay?”

He looks up at you and smiles just a bit. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. I’m just thinking… You know, erm… I don’t want to pressure you,” he tells you, his voice lowering as he stops again to face you fully. “I, er… I know the original plan was to - you know, go our separate ways after… after all this. And it’s… It’s a lot, I know -” He laughs softly. “Christ, I’m a lot, just with Aurora, and the theater, and…” He fades off, running a hand over his face. “Er… But yeah. I just… I wanna let you know that I’m not… pressuring you to stay, or anything… We can stick to the - the plan.”

“No,” you say immediately, and then feel a bit self-conscious. “I mean… I don’t want to. I really…” You give him a smile. “I really like you. And Aurora. And it’s a lot, yeah, but… I don’t care. I don’t mind. I love all of it. I -” You falter, then, “I mean - I like - I -”

He raises a brow at you.

So you bite your lip, then dive in headfirst. “I love you,” you say.

“Love you too,” he replies with a big smile, and he kisses you.

***

It’s hours later, now, and you’ve wandered into some restaurant by the beach.

The bar is loud, crowded, and thrumming with music in Portuguese. Somebody’s singing from a big stage in the back. Your hand is firmly in Harry’s, walking next to him through the mass of moving bodies. A warm breeze heavy with ocean air flows through huge open windows, colorful lights shining in the dark.

When you finally make it to the counter, Harry gestures vaguely at something on the wall to the bartender, and you point at the drink of the person next to you. You glance at each other, shrug, and watch as the bartender mixes and shakes up a bunch of mysterious liquids.

Your final result is bright blue, like the one the girl next to you just finished. Harry’s is pink and green. With laughs neither of you can hear over the noise, you clink your glasses against each other and take sips.

Harry’s nose wrinkles. “Sour,” you see him say.

Yours is extremely sweet, and you make an eh motion with your hand and hold it out to him. He takes it and gives you his, and you try his as he tries yours. Your nose must wrinkle like his did, because he grins and hands yours back.

You shake your head, though, and look around for someone who has a drink you’d actually like to have. When you spot someone downing a shot glass full of what looks like water but clearly isn’t, you point that out to the bartender along with two fingers.

A few shots later, you’re buzzing, dancing with Harry amid the mass of people on the dance floor. The music’s so loud, electrifying the air around you. It seems like you’re being shifted towards the front of the room, and before you know it, you appear to be on the raised platform all the way at the front.

Bright lights hit your face, making you giggle and squint. People start clapping, Harry spins you around, and everyone cheers. There’s a screen directly in front of you. You walk up to it, practically dragging Harry with you, and realize it’s a song bank - and there are microphones on the table next to it.

“Karaoke!” you shout at Harry.

He grins and starts flicking through the song choices. When you see one you like, you reach out and tap the screen, pointing at it. Harry laughs and nods excitedly, clicking it. Immediately, the music changes.

On cue, you and Harry come in.

“Yoooo, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want -”

It’s not in Portuguese, but nobody seems to mind, and they give you rambunctious applause regardless. You and Harry can barely get the words out for how much you’re laughing and giggling at each other’s dance moves and crazy singing. He spins you around again, you spin him, both of you trip on the mic wires at least three times. As the song ends, he dips you, kisses your nose, and then stands up so both of you can take big bows.

You’re breathless by that point, and you stumble off the stage with Harry as someone else takes the mic. On some unsaid agreement, you both keep going out of the restaurant and back onto the beach towards your hotel.

With your fingers tangled in his and chests heaving, you walk all the way back to the hotel. It’s pretty close, and when you arrive, the two of you lean against the door and grin at each other, hearts still racing.

Harry kisses you, then, hand sliding against your cheek and lips smiling against yours. The wood of the door is cool against your back, and it’s not because of the hot Brazilian air that you’re warming up again.

He pulls his shoulder off the door, almost pinning you against it as your smiles fade and your kisses become more desperate. You want more, more, more; want him closer, closer - even closer - and with fumbling fingers you shed the clothes that separate you as you lurch towards the bed.

It’s warm, in Brazil, so warm, and you’ve never felt a greater thrill.

***

The next morning, after grins and kisses and coffee, the phone rings.

Harry glances at you, then picks it up.

“Hello?” he says. Then, “Yes, this is he.”

He’s quiet for a while. He fiddles with his lip.

“I know,” he says. “Right. Right, I know. Don’t worry… Yes, expect a call soon. Won’t be from me, no, but… No… Yes, of course, I… Fantastic. Great talking with you. Expect that call! Bye, bye now.”

He hangs up.

“Investor?” you ask.

He nods.

You open your mouth to say something, then stop.

“Don’t worry about it,” he tells you, starting to smile. “They’ll never remember. One call, that’s all. That wasn’t even the guy himself - it was his assistant. We’ll be buried under hundreds of other things to do. I’ve had to remind people, you know, even on plays that do well. They always forget.”

You’re not quite persuaded, but he comes over and squeezes your shoulder and says, “It’ll be alright” so convincingly that you can’t help but believe him. You nod, taking his hand, and let him lead you out to the balcony, where fruit and warm bread are waiting for you.

Over the next few weeks, only a couple of calls come in. Harry handles them, uses that same calming tone, and says basically the same thing each time: expect a phone call, sorry for the delay, don’t worry about it.

You sit back and distract your racing heart with the beautiful sights, sounds, and food.

***

Harry makes some killer pancakes. After living with him for months and months, you’ve had more than your fair share of his fluffy, buttery pancakes. And while you’d be the first to crown him the best pancake maker in New York, his pancake breakfasts have absolutely nothing on the Brazilian breakfasts you’ve had since you’ve gotten to Rio de Janeiro.

Nevertheless, it’s a few weeks later, and you’ve awoken to the scent of bacon.

“What are you doing?” you ask incredulously, following your nose to the small kitchenette in the hotel suite. “Pancakes!” Harry exclaims, flipping around to brandish his teeny frying pan at you.

“Oh, Harry,” you sigh, taking a tiny pancake from the pile anyway.

Harry turns back around to busy himself with his task. “Listen,” he begins seriously. “I’m aware of how good the food here is. We’re had right scrumptious meals here -” You giggle through a bite of pancake and interrupt, “You’re right scrumptious.”

“Shush,” Harry says, but you can see him dimpling from behind him. “What I mean to say is that I was bored, so don’t blame me for the American food.” You frown at his back. “Bored?” you echo.

You’ve hardly been sitting around doing nothing, you think at first, but then as you think about it more, you… kind of have. The two of you were on a good run the first few days, going out every day and finding a new sight to see. Three weeks in, though, it’s a lot more tempting to just stay in bed all day and lounge around in the sunshine.

“Yeah,” Harry replies now as he turns to face you. “I’m getting antsy.”

“Find an anteater.”

He pouts.

You smile apologetically at him and hold up a little pancake. “Delicious.”

“Thanks,” he says.

You bite your lip, leaning back in your chair as your brain slowly wakes up. “How about… a picnic?” you suggest. “We could go down to the beach again and bring a basket - make it all aesthetic and pretty!”

Harry points his spatula at you. “That’s the spirit!”

“You can pack the basket,” you say.

He frowns. “Maybe try a different spirit.”

“How about - I don’t pack it, and you pack it!”

“That’s… the same spirit.”

“I’ve never believed in ghosts anyway,” you tell him, and you stand up, sliding your plate into the sink. “Have fun!” you say, patting him on the chest as you pass him “And pack some fruits, Styles. Let’s stay healthy.”

“Let’s,” Harry echoes, grumbling, “as in let us. Let us pack the basket.”

“You’re such a gentleman,” you call.

He is, really, he is a gentleman, because he packs it despite your later offers to help and then presents you with a ginormous sun hat when you appear fully changed. You put it on, and when its brim droops over your forehead, you say, “Hey, it flops, just like all of your plays!”

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry scoffs, but he’s laughing so he can’t be too insulted.

It’s gorgeous by the water, unsurprisingly, and you feed each other strawberries and sip sparkling water while you chatter away about nothing. You drift closer and closer until you’ve forgotten all about the view of the sunset for strawberry sweet kisses, and you both decide to call it a day and head back for the hotel.

You see him fiddling with his phone as you step out of the bathroom, changed after your shower, and your smile dims a little as you realize what he’s thinking. “We should try again,” you tell him, and he looks up, looking conflicted.

You’re talking about Aurora, about calling her, because she hasn’t picked up the last twenty times you’ve tried. Harry’s talked to her nurses, who say she’s doing relatively well health-wise but not great with everything else. She misses them, the nurses say, but she’s still angry.

“Come on,” you say, plopping down next to him on the bed and gently sliding his phone out of his hands. You move slowly, giving him the opportunity to stop you, and then hand it to him before pressing the call button.

He gives you a smile. “Hundredth time’s the charm.”

And lo and behold - he’s right.

“You gotta come back,” Aurora says as soon as she picks up. “I had a dream about the little swan last night, Harry, you gotta come back! I need to know what happens!” Harry breathes an incredulous laugh and clears his throat.

“I - er, yeah, Ror, of course,” he says. “Soon.”

You pop into the camera view for a second, wiggling your fingers, and Aurora gives a shy smile. “Hi,” she says, sounding a little guilty. “Sorry for not… picking up.” Harry glances at you, and you reply, “Don’t worry about it, princess.”

“We’re still sorry,” Harry adds.

Aurora pouts, looking down, and mumbles, “Should be.”

“Just a few more weeks, Ror,” Harry tells her, his voice weak.

She huffs a little bit and then glances up again. She moves around a little bit, peering into the camera like she’s trying to look behind you. “Where are you guys, anyway?” Harry smiles and exclaims, “Brazil!”

Aurora still looks confused. “Well, where’s that?”

“Remember when we went to Disney World for your birthday?” Harry asks, and when Aurora nods, he goes on, “Right, well, it’s like if you went there, then kept going for a few hours until you heard Portuguese.”

Aurora blinks, then chirps, “Okay!”

“How’re you, princess?” Harry asks. “Any drama we should be aware of?”

“Oh, so much,” Aurora gushes. She starts her story, and as the air warms with her voice, Harry’s hand slides into yours and you begin to relax. Through the end of the phone call, you and Harry can barely keep the smiles off your face.

***

You stay in Brazil for a long time. After it’s been two weeks without a single call from any of the investors, you decide to pack it up. Back home, it’s totally quiet, like nothing ever happened. It’s still scary, though, and the plane ride back is mostly quiet. You’re cautious driving through town, peeking into the theater, greeting people as you walk into Harry’s apartment.

It only takes a look to agree on where to go first after dropping everything off in the apartment, and you’re at the hospital in no time with a huge bag of souvenirs. You’re both greeted with huge smiles and hugs all the way to Aurora’s room.

Aurora’s asleep when you walk in, and Harry gives you a bit of a nervous look before approaching and kneeling down beside her to gently place a kiss on her forehead. She wakes up slowly, blinking blearily before processing Harry in front of her and gasping and throwing her arms around his neck.

“Harry!” she squeals, hugging him tightly. With wide eyes, she looks up, then exclaims your name and you walk over to give her a hug of your own. “You’re back!” she says happily, glancing between the two of you excitedly.

“We sure are,” you tell her.

Harry nods. “We missed you, princess.”

“Missed you too,” Aurora replies.

You clear your throat and bring the small present from behind your back. “We have something for you,” you tell her, handing the little white bag to you. Aurora laughs delightedly, clapping her hands and crinkling the tissue paper inside before pulling out the gift.

“Oh…” she breathes. “Pascal!”

It’s not exactly Pascal, Rapunzel’s pet in Tangled, but it’s a little stuffed toy of a chameleon you found with Harry in some gift shop in Brazil and you figured Aurora would like him. “Told you I’d bring you a Pascal one of these days,” you say with a wink.

“I, of course,” Harry begins with a dramatic sigh, “am completely against this gift.”

Aurora breaks out in giggles.

“... So I had to get you something else,” Harry finishes. He hands her his own gift, a sparkly pink bag with two things inside. Aurora is enthralled with the delicate tiara, and Harry makes a whole production of crowning her princess of all of New York.

The second gift is a small snow globe, but glitter rains down on a beautiful beach scene rather than snow when Aurora flips it upside down, eyes wide with wonder. “I love it,” she says, voice a little quiet in awe.

“We won’t have to leave again,” Harry promises softly.

Aurora looks up, lowering the globe to her lap. “Please don’t,” she says.

Harry smiles a little, then squeezes her hand and stands up, sliding The Trumpet of the Swan off its spot on the table. “Hope you didn’t read any without us,” he sighs, settling down in his spot on the sofa.

Happily, you curl up next to him, just as pleased as Aurora to be continuing the story.

***

Back at the apartment the next day to finalize some paperwork, your phone begins to ring. It’s an unknown number. Glancing at Harry nervously, you pick it up and wander over to the window as the voice on the other end begins to talk.

Your heart drops as you realize what’s happening. It’s someone from another company, asking you to audition for a play they’re starting to work on. Apparently, someone had seen your performance in Fatigue and thought you were wonderful. They couldn’t believe you were working with such a shit producer, they said, and would you like to join their company?

“Yes!” you say immediately, a little too excitedly. “I mean - yes. Please. Thank you.”

They give you the details, and with a still racing heart, you turn around and see Harry, working on some papers at his desk, looking very confused. Your eyes widen. “Oh my God,” you say, realizing what you’d just done.

“You alright, love?” he asks, sounding a bit amused.

You clear your throat. “Um, I just agreed to audition for another play?”

His brows jump, and he comes around his desk to wrap you in a hug. “Bloody hell!” he laughs. “Congratulations! That’s great - did they say when auditions are? Is it close by? What theater?”

You sputter a laugh, surprised at his reaction, and start, “Well, I… I mean… Are you okay with this? Did you want me to stick with you?” Harry scoffs, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. You’re too good for me. My producing days are over.”

“Really?” you ask, startled.

He leans against the desk, shrugging slightly. “Well… yeah. I mean, my record hardly suggests greatness, you know? I’ll find something else.” He grins, wiggling his brows, and adds, “Maybe I’ll go into writing. I certainly know what to avoid.”

“That would be great!” you exclaim. “Harry Styles, writer-producer extraordinaire!”

“Damn right,” Harry tells you, and he kisses you. You lean into him, hand sliding into his hair, and he whispers, “This desk hasn’t been broken in yet.” You snicker, about to reply, when your hand grazes a stack of papers and you sigh, pulling away. Harry whines, puckering his lips and smooching at you.

“We have paperwork to do,” you tell him.

He pouts. “You’re no fun.”

“After,” you say, giving him one last kiss.

“Maybe we can multitask,” Harry muses, turning around anyway and starting to shuffle some papers. “It takes you about a million years to finish a document when I’m not distracting you,” you reply, stealing a pen from his cup.

“Reckon I just need practice,” he says as you collapse on the sofa. You sigh, smiling despite yourself as you click your pen, shuffle some papers, and get to work. “Sure, Styles,” you say.

***

Two nights later, you’re sitting on the floor in the hallway of the hospital.

Beside you, the vending machine hums lowly. It harmonizes with the fluorescent lights buzzing on the ceiling, which are so bright they make your head hurt even when you close your eyes. Every few minutes, the lights flicker just slightly. Just enough for you to notice.

Harry dusts his hands off, reaching up to toss his candy wrapper into the trashcan. Like yours, his legs are stretched out in front of him. His hands are folded in his lap, head rested against the wall behind him.

He nudges your toe with his foot, shifting to look at you. He looks tired. When you meet his eyes, he starts to smile, lips curving slowly until he’s full on grinning, dimpling at you and laughing just a little.

“What?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from laughing just a little too.

He shrugs. “Dunno.”

You hold up the wrapper from the candy bar you just ate, peering at it, and tell him, “I wonder if it’s possible to get a sugar rush at one in the morning.” Harry takes it from you and pushes it into the trashcan.

“If you eat the entire vending machine,” he says, “probably.”

“I’m tired,” you whisper.

“What happened to the sugar rush?”

You take his hand, a bit delirious, and flip it palm up in your lap. “You’re gonna have a long life,” you say softly, tracing a random line on his skin. You start at his wrist, and follow a few lines up to one of his rings. “And be very stylish,” you continue, spinning a ring around.

“Why, thank you,” Harry says.

You smile at him. “You’re welcome.”

Harry touches the bottom of your chin with his finger, gently pushing up, and press his lips to yours. You relax at his touch, eyelids fluttering shut as his hand slides to hold your cheek, supporting you, grounding you, giving you butterflies.

Aurora’s sleeping in her room. Harry finished reading The Trumpet of the Swan just before she fell asleep. Earlier, while she went through tests and played, you and Harry filled out the proper forms for the procedure she’d need in a few months. It won’t be an easy ride, but she’ll be alright. And sitting on the floor, head rested on Harry’s shoulder and hand entwined with his, you get the feeling you just might be alright, too.

~*~ and there she is!!! all done!!! i'm gonna admit this chapter took SO LONG - i'm pretty sure i finished the first two chapters in like less than a month and this one took me. five months. BUT i got it done and i hit my word goal and i'm super proud of myself! honestly i'm just glad i got it out lmao. but i do hope someone out there enjoyed it, and if u did, a reblog and some feedback would be absolutely splendid <3

thank you for reading!!!!

masterlist | ask

[pastpatientlywaitingforimagines]

All The Clouds Ch. 2 | Niall Horan x Reader

Warnings: mild swearing

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: BLACK AND WHITE

“There’ll never be another,”

As soon as you met Niall, you knew you wanted to be a part of his life.

Of course, he had no idea who you were. You were a budding sound engineer hired onto a gigantic tour production and he was… well, he was a rockstar.

All of the boys were charismatic and extremely talented, so it was no surprise that they had risen to fame so quickly. The tour manager, Tom, had pointed them out to you when he was giving you a tour of the production before your first sound check, but you never crossed paths until much later.

“You’ll be working with Annika Wilson and bunking with her as well. She’ll show you exactly what your responsibilities are. If you have any problems, report back to me. Any questions?” Tom asked as he led you to the side of the stage you’d be working from.

“Um, no,” you shrugged, feeling slightly overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure how you landed this job, but you also weren’t going to question it.

“Great,” he led you over to a sound station where a blonde woman was organizing cords and microphones, “Annika, this is the newbie I told you about.”

Annika was in her late twenties, tall, and intimidatingly cool. She looked up at you from what she was working on, dropping the cords and tightening her ponytail before reaching out to shake your hand, “welcome to the shit-show.”

You returned her handshake, immediately liking her. Tom shot her a glare but didn’t say anything before walking away. Annika must have had some seriously good job security to be making quips like that in front of the tour manager, you reasoned.

“He didn’t make this show seem like sunshine and rainbows did he?” Annika asked once he was gone, turning back to what she was working on.

“Kinda,” you rocked back awkwardly on your heels, unsure of what you could do.

“It’s not. This whole show is such a mess I’m surprised we manage to hold it together every time we run it. My job is to manage all of the microphones, for the boys and their band. Tom said you have experience sound mixing?”

“Yeah,” you stepped up to the sound board she was standing next to, “I was stage crew at the local concert venue in my hometown.”

“Perfect. We can tag team mixing until you get the hang of it for the show, then we’ll split it up. These,” she pointed to a box on her left, “are the boys microphones. Louis is blue, Harry is green, Liam is red, Zayn is yellow, and Niall is Ireland. Niall also has a headset mic, for when he’s playing the guitar. Since you’re just getting started, you’ll just be responsible for Niall. I can keep tabs on the other boys until you have your feet under you. Sound good?”

It took you a minute to realize she was serious. It was your first day, and she had already assigned you to the most technically complicated band member.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t trust myself not to mess something up and I don’t want to get fired on my first day.”

Annika laughed brightly, shaking her head, “the best way to learn this stuff is to just do it, two feet first into the deep end. Don’t let the boys scare you. Working with them is the easiest part of the job, they’re really sweet underneath all of the chaos,” she smirked. You weren’t sure how much you believed her, the quick glimpse of them you had seen earlier involved a Segway and being chased by their security guard, Paul. You didn’t get to ask her any further questions before she started introducing you to the rest of the equipment.

The sound board you’d be working with was much like the one you were used to using at your job back home. The difference would be setting it up correctly and breaking it down quickly between shows. Annika kept reassuring you that it would seem less overwhelming the more times you did it, and with the list of upcoming tour dates you’d get lots of practice.

“Here comes trouble,” Annika mumbled to you shortly after sound check officially started. You looked up to the stage and saw all five boys heading your direction. “Boys,” she greeted them when they made it to the sound station, “this is (y/n). Be nice.”

“We’re always nice,” Liam smirked, though the way he winked at you said otherwise.

“Always,” Harry emphasized, taking his microphone from Annika. She rolled her eyes, handing Liam, Louis, and Zayn their mics as well. Instead of giving Niall his microphone, she gave it to you instead, nodding in his direction before going back to chatting with the other boys.

You walked up to him hesitantly, “um, Annika put me in charge of your mics.”

“Did she?” Niall glanced over at your coworker quickly with a lopsided smile.

“Mhmm,” you hummed.

“Well ya know what that means, don’t ya?”

“I don’t think I do.”

“Means we’re friends now.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely. And you have to promise we’ll stay friends forever.”

“Why would I do that?” you couldn’t be too careful, you had to ask before you accidentally sold your soul. Niall looked a little taken aback by your question, eyes narrowing as he thought out an answer. Finally, he held out his free hand towards you. You cocked your head, but reached out and let him pull you onto the stage.

Normally standing in the middle of a stage made you feel small and insecure. You much rather preferred to be behind the sound booth, away from prying eyes and left to your own devices. Standing there with Niall though, you didn’t feel as small. There were rows upon rows of empty seats, and it was easy to imagine thousands of screaming fans filling the arena. It felt like a rush of electricity running through your veins. Standing up here, you felt like you could do anything.

“This is why,” he said smugly when you finally looked over at him, “this changes your life.”

“I still don’t see why that means I have to promise to stay friends with you though. I’ve know you for all of two minutes.”

“So what?”

“So I’m not promising anything until I know you better.”

Niall considered your offer slowly, dropping your hand to cross his arms, “fine. I’ll convince you, you’ll get it eventually.”

“Good luck with that,” as soon as there was space between you, the stage fright started to catch up to you, “I, um, I should get back to Annika.”

You turned on your heel and practically ran back to the sound board where Annika was waiting.

“He’s great, right?” she asked smugly.

“He’s alright,” you shrugged.

“Wait until you hear him sing,” she moved a slider on the sound board, then gave the boys a thumbs up.

You had to admit, she was right. The boys were amazing. Of course, you had heard some of their music before joining the tour, practically the whole world had at that point, but their live performances were something else. Each one had their own style and sound that melded together in a stylistic way. Their personalities shined through their music and their antics. It was impossible to watch them without a smile on your face.

It would be generous to say you fumbled through your first soundcheck and show, but Annika knew what she was talking about when she said you had to jump feet first into the deep end. Niall was more than forgiving when you dropped his mic while handing it to him during your first show, and completely forgot to bring his handheld when he switched back later that night. With every mishap, he laughed it off and told you that you’d get it next time.

Like Annika, he was also right, and by your third show you had it all figured out. Once you were more confident in your abilities as an employee, you started to enjoy the show as a whole and could spend more time appreciating the work that the boys were doing. Though at first it seemed larger than life, as the tour picked up speed you started noticing things that outsiders wouldn’t have even blinked over.

You finally asked Annika about it when you were leaving your hotel room in a new city to walk to the venue for sound check, “does the band ever get to go out when we go places like this?” It was a beautiful, sunny day and Annika had suggested going out to experience the night life after the show.

She shook her head, “they can’t. They’d be mobbed, fans and paps everywhere. Nobody knows who we are so we can get away with it, but the boys are stuck inside most places. Management doesn’t want them out causing trouble anyways.”

“Why would management care? Plenty of celebrities go out, and if they do get into trouble, isn’t it their management’s job to fix it? Why have management at all otherwise?”

“Not all celebrities are young attractive men that the whole world is obsessed with. You’re right, management is supposed to protect the talent, but here they’re just controlling.The boys are basically prisoners to their management. They can’t leave the hotel, they can’t say or do anything that could be considered scandalous, and they’re extremely overworked. Management has even asked me to turn down Niall’s mic during a show before. Honestly, the boys are great to work with, but the rest of this place is toxic.”

“You didn’t…” you felt a twinge of responsibility for the Irishman who had quickly become your favorite member of One Direction (though you’d never admit that to anyone).

“Of course not, I’d never betray the boys like that. My reputation with them is more important than my reputation with management, and I don’t hide the fact that I like them better than I like their management. That’s how it’s always been and how it always will be. If management decides they have a problem with it, they can fire me,” she shrugged.

Her words stayed with you all through soundcheck, but once the show started you pushed them as far back into your mind as possible. You had to focus on the task at hand.

You were more comfortable around Niall than you had been three weeks ago when you first started. There was an intimacy that you got to have with him every night while passing off microphones and guitars between you that easily fueled a good working relationship. At first it was mostly small talk, a comment here and there about the energy in the room or the water fight Louis and Liam had onstage. Small talk turned into tiny dance parties or riddles, but you didn’t think your relationship was any more complex than that until Niall posed you a question as you traded microphones.

“What’s been goin’ on in your head all night?”

“Just show things,” you brushed him off, not really wanting to talk about it in that moment.

“I can hear the whirring of your gears turning from the other side of the stage, and that’s with my in-ears. Harry’s got the crowd captivated for a minute, what’s wrong?”

“Have you always wanted to be a singer?”

Niall smiled softly, “I wanted t’ be a footballer for a little bit, but yeah, this has always been my dream.”

“What happens when you’re old, then?”

Niall laughed loudly, “old? I’ll still be able to sing when I’m old.”

“Right, but when you’re done touring and performing for millions of people around the world.”

“Well, I’ll just be able to enjoy my life at that point I guess. Maybe I’ll play golf more, have some consistency. I haven’t thought much about it but I’ll get back to you,” he flashed you a bright smile before bouncing back on stage to rejoin the band, leaving you holding his microphone.

Niall didn’t know the weight of your words because of how you phrased your question, but his answer told you everything you needed to know. He wanted consistency, because his life currently didn’t have much of it. He wanted control, and to ‘enjoy his life’. Those were his words. “I’ll just be able to enjoy my life at that point”. You went back to the sound station where Annika was perched on a stool watching the boys, oblivious to the conversation you had just had. You sat next to her, eyes landing on one blonde Irishman who was bouncing all over the stage. His smile said it all, he was living his dream. He was living his dream and having fun while doing it, but at what cost to him and his sanity?

You thought back to a few weeks ago, when you stood in the middle of the stage with him and he asked you to promise you’d stay friends. It meant something to him, and you chose not to do it. Knowing what you knew now, though, it made sense. Management controlled his every move. He was living his dream under somebody else’s thumb, and to fight it he was picking up friends at every turn.

It was the most Niall Horan thing you had ever heard.

If he was going to spend the rest of his career like this, though you really hoped he didn’t, you knew you had to be there to support him through it all. Nobody should have to go through what he was dealing with, and if he was asking for friendship you were going to be the best friend he had ever had.

You waited until the show was over to say anything else to him. As soon as he was in front of you handing you his mic, you plucked up the courage.

“Do you have a minute?”

“Yeah, do you have a minute?” he was still buzzing from the show, skin gleaming in sweat.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t,” you stuck your tongue out at him, earning a laugh. You walked to the wings of the stage, peeking out from behind a wall to see if there were still fans in the audience. You waited until you were sure the coast was clear, then you waved for him to follow.

The stage crew was already breaking down the set, but you were still able to lead Niall to the center of the stage. You stood looking out at the now empty seats, not making eye contact before you spoke.

“You asked me to promise to be your friend.”

“I did.”

“You said I’d get it eventually. It took me a while to figure it out, but you were right, this changes your life. I get it now,” you finally turned to look at him and you were met with a cheeky grin.

“Is this going where I think it’s going?”

You rolled your eyes, “I promise we’ll stay friends.”

Niall whooped loudly, lifting you off your feet in a hug and spinning you around.

“Ew, you’re all sweaty,” you squirmed out of his grasp. He only grinned harder.

“It doesn’t matter. You still have t’ like me, we’re friends for life now.”

“If we’re going to be friends you have to put in effort too, you know. This isn’t a one way street.”

“I know.”

You thought it would be simple, being friends with Niall Horan. You were wrong.

“I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

Chapter 3: DEAR PATIENCE Coming April 20th, 2021

[sassy-starker]

Five Times Stark Industries Employees Saw Peter Parker

(And One Time They All Found Out Who He Was)

Word count: 9128

CW: none

Notes: I promised @tony-is-my-daddy that I would tag them in my fluff fic and that was literally almost 2 weeks ago so I’m really, really sorry. I got caught up with finals and everything, but, I finally present to you, A Self-Indulgent Fic Where Peter and Tony Act Sappy And Confuse Employees

1.

Peter couldn’t focus.  His eyes were bleary and his mind was wandering.  His attention was completely taken up by the hollowness in his chest.  The workshop felt all too empty and quiet, but he knew that background noise wouldn’t help.  He needed someone there.  He needed people— hell, even just a person— to be with him.  His mind felt distant, yet all too aware at the same time and it was driving him insane.  He hated the winter.  He hated seasonal affective disorder.  He hated this.

In a rash decision, before his brain could even think, Peter pulled out his Stark Phone and tapped into messages.  He tapped on his most recent contact and began to type.

Peter: hey, do you think i could go down to the intern labs and just work down there?

Peter: like the ones with the individual workspaces?

Peter: i need to be around people

Tony: Of course! I should be done with my meeting at about 5 so then we can go binge shitty rom-coms and cuddle and eat Chinese food

Tony: Pepper saw me on my phone. Gotta go

Peter: <3

Tony: <3

Peter, now with confirmation, gathered up what he was working on in his backpack and shoved his phone in his pocket before getting up and moving to the elevator.

“Where to, Peter?” FRIDAY asked him.

“Fifty-fourth floor please.”

The elevator moved relatively quickly down the floors, and it wasn’t long until it dinged and the doors opened, revealing rows and rows of worktables with interns scattered around and working on individual projects.  Peter knew that they moved on and off the floor, depending on whether they were working in groups with their department or solo.

People looked over to the unknown young man while he set his stuff down on a table.  He paid no mind, feeling comforted by having people around.  He always felt nice when he knew that he wasn’t all alone, that the world was still there and time was still moving on.  Just as he sat down, though, a lab director from some floor below them walked right up to the desk.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re allowed to be here,” he said in a sickly sweet, obviously fake voice.

“Excuse me?” Peter asked politely, looking up to the man.

“This space is for interns and employees. You don’t appear to be either,” the man elaborated.

“No, I’m allowed to be here,” Peter shot back simply before looking away from the man and reaching for his bag to pull out his project materials.

“Who do you think you are?” the lab director interrogated. “I’ll get you kicked out of this building!”

“I’m Peter-” the young adult started, but was cut off by FRIDAY interrupting.

“No last names, Peter,” the AI warned. “We don’t want anything to happen to you.  I can assure that Peter is allowed to be here.”

Peter simply looked up and gave a shrug to the lab director before continuing to pull out the materials from his bag.  The man looked up to the ceiling fearfully before retreating back to his own workspace.

That was the first time they saw Peter.

2.

The next time Stark Industries employees saw Peter could only be described as chaotic.

The door to the stairs opened and somebody rushed out, weaving their way around people and workstations with practiced ease, all while laughing so hard that there were tears falling from their eyes.

Upon closer inspection, the employees realized that it was, in fact, the mysterious young man from only a week earlier.

Moments after Peter rushed in, the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and out ran the Tony Stark, covered in red and blue glitter. Not to mention that he looked furious, but not the type of furious where he was genuinely angry. It was more like that fond kind of furious, where you’re annoyed and upset, but can’t help but find the situation a bit funny and the person responsible is somebody you care about.

Tony ran out of the elevator, also weaving around his employees and their projects, obviously chasing the young man. By that point, though, the young man was laughing so hard that he had slowed down considerably. Thanks to that fact, Tony caught up and tackled him to the ground. All the employees were frozen in shock and just watching as their boss stood up and rubbed glitter off his skin to get it onto the man he was now standing above.

“No!” shouted the younger, getting up from his spot on the floor and giving the engineer a light shove. Both of them were still smiling and laughing about it though. “This is gonna take forever to wash off!”

“How do you think I feel?” Tony retorted, sprinkling some glitter into the other man’s curly hair. Once again, the younger man gave him a light push.

That’s when the two of them became acutely aware of the attention they had garnered.

“Sorry for disrupting your work,” Peter apologized to the crowd of employees sheepishly.

“We’ll send somebody to clean up the mess we made,” Tony told them, eyeing the trail of glitter he had left on the floor, “but get back to work.”

Hesitantly, they all began to go back to their workstations, but kept their eyes on the two men as they talked quietly and walked back to the elevator. Nobody said a word until the elevator doors had closed, obscuring their view of their boss and the mysterious man.

“Who the fuck is that kid?” Ashley questioned, turning to the coworkers she was in an experimenting group with.

“I have no idea,” Dylan answered, slowly tearing his eyes away from the elevator doors.

“He’s definitely a weird one,” Jenna piped up decisively. “I mean, have you ever even seen a picture of Tony Stark smiling that fondly?”

“And he talked back to him!” Dylan added on. “Like, holy shit, that kid shoved him and Stark only laughed!”

“I’ve seen a lot of strange things while working here,” Ashley told them, sparing a glance at the elevator, “but this is definitely one of the strangest.”

3.

“Please?” Peter begged.

“No,” Tony answered for what felt like the hundredth time. “Gossip spreads across the building quickly and basically every employee is already trying to figure out who you are! I don’t want them finding out and leaking it to the press!”

“But they already know, so what does it matter? It’s not like the rumors will go away if they just don’t see me again!” Peter argued, jumping up from where he was seated in order to stand in front of his boyfriend.

“The rumors will die down if they don’t see you again. They’ll eventually move onto talking about something else,” Tony replied, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him close. Peter embraced the man and the two just stood there for a few moments.

“I just want you to be safe,” Tony told him quietly.

“I’ll be fine,” Peter responded, pulling away but still holding onto his boyfriend’s hands. “All your employees sign NDA’s, so even if they did leak something to the press, which I doubt they would, legal would be on their ass and sue them for all they’re worth.”

Tony sighed, realizing that Peter had a good argument that he just couldn’t counter.

“Fine. You can come help me with the presentation.”

Peter pumped his fist in the air and let out a whoop in victory, causing Tony to roll his eyes fondly.

+++

When the employees working in R&D walked into the small auditorium on the 16th floor, they knew Tony Stark was going to be there, but they didn’t expect the infamous mystery man to be there.  On the stage, Peter was talking animatedly about something or other while Tony just listened, a fond smile on his face and his eyes sparkling.

The crowd walked in hesitantly, everybody’s eyes on the two men up front, who still hadn’t acknowledged them.  When everyone was seated and the clock struck the exact time the presentation was supposed to start, the two finally turned to them to get started.

“Hello, R&D department! I hope you’re all doing well!” Tony greeted with his press smile on. “You all know who I am, but I have somebody else here with me today.”

“What’s up? I’m Peter,” the younger man introduced himself, hitting the woah as he said his name.

“Did you just-” Tony started with a sigh before cutting himself off. “You and your fucking tiktok dances.”

“You say that as if you didn’t ask me to teach you the Renegade last week!”

“That was different! That was for the Stark Industries tiktok! I need to be relatable so I stay relevant!” Tony defended.

“And yet you still won’t let me teach you the dance to ‘Say So’ even though it’s iconic!” Peter shot back.

“You and I have different ideas of what counts as iconic,” Tony said dryly before turning back to the crowd of employees. 

“Anyway, today Peter and I will be telling you all about the new prosthetics line that your department will begin developing!”

Despite the importance of the presentation, the employees were only half listening as they were more focused on whispering about the mystery boy.

“Okay but what the actual fuck happened at the beginning of this?” Jenna asked quietly as she leaned over to her coworker on the right of her.

“No fucking clue. I can't believe this dude is just casually talking and joking around with Tony fucking Stark!” Dylan whispered in reply, not taking his eyes off the stage.

“And apparently he taught Stark how to do the Renegade. That’s fucking insane,” Ashley added from Jenna’s left.

The three turned their attention back to the two men on stage, finally listening to what they were saying again.

“Street smarts!” the younger man exclaimed, jumping in about something they were saying before.

“Stay alert out there,” both Peter and Tony quoted with large smiles. As if nothing happened, they jumped right back into the presentation.

“This is the weirdest fucking thing in the world,” Dylan declared quietly.

“I second that,” Ashley muttered.

“I third that,” Jenna added on without taking her eyes off the stage.

The presentation went on a bit longer, but it didn’t drag on.  It helped that the entire time the two men were joking around and making the employees progressively more and more confused.

Peter and Tony wrapped up the presentation soon enough and the R&D employees began to file out, most of them keeping their eyes on the two men talking quietly on stage.  Jenna, Ashley, and Dylan walked out together, some of the last to exit the auditorium, and the three made it to the elevator before Jenna realized she left her jacket behind.  She told her friends that she would catch up to them and way back to the now empty seats.  Not paying attention to the world around her, she looked for where she had sat and made her way through the row until she reached her seat and found her cardigan.

“See, I told you it would be okay,” said a voice from the stage.  Jenna turned around and saw Peter talking to Tony, the men standing close together.

“You know I just get worried,” the billionaire replied, his voice more sincere than Jenna could’ve ever imagined. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I can take care of myself, Tones. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Jenna felt like she was intruding on a private moment, so she started to make her way out of the rows of seats and back to the door as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Just because I don’t need to worry doesn’t mean I won’t. I care so much about you, Peter. You know I love you.”

Jenna froze in place, right at the end of the row of seats and about to step into the main aisle that led to the doors.  Against her better judgment, she found herself staring up at the two men on the stage, her gaze stuck on them.  She just couldn’t look away.

Peter and Tony were basically right up against each other.  They only were a couple inches apart with both their hands intertwined.  She couldn’t see it earlier, but, now that they were right next to each other, Jenna could tell that Peter was about half a foot shorter than Tony.  The younger man was looking up at the billionaire with a bright smile that was returned.  It was like nothing she could’ve ever imagined; a ball of sunshine and pop culture references right next to a man known to be scuffed up and rough around the edges.  It was like this boy brought out a completely different side of Stark.

“I love you too,” Peter replied softly before leaning up on the balls of his feet to give Tony a soft kiss on the lips.

Jenna, sucked in a breath of air harshly, the sound being enough to alert the men to her presence.  The two men stared at her with wide eyes for a moment and she stared right back.

“Shit.” Tony broke the silence of the room, his voice conveying the concern written across his face.  Peter put a hand on his forearm and schooled his features into a comforting look.  The man looked over at him and tried to take solace in his lover’s gentleness.

“I told you something was gonna go wrong,” the billionaire said with a mix of concern and fear on his face.

“We’re not getting into this argument again,” Peter responded decidedly, his tone making it sound final.

“I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was walking in on anything. I just came in because I forgot my jacket! I . . . please don’t fire me, Mister Stark,” Jenna stammered once she had broken out of her shocked stupor.

“He’s not going to fire you,” Peter reassured her with a kind tone.

“Well . . .” Tony said, but his tone was a bit humorous.

“You’re not gonna fire her because we decided we couldn’t wait until we got back to the penthouse to be all sappy.” Peter gave the man a stern look and it occurred to Jenna once again that this soft, delicate-appearing brunet clad in pastels had somehow reined in the man who had spent so many years being known as a playboy.

“I’m not going to fire you, but you can’t tell anybody, not even anyone within the company. If you do, my legal team can and will sue you for all you’re worth. Understood?” Tony had a dangerous edge to his voice, letting the girl know that he was completely serious. There was no way that this was an empty threat.

“Understood,” Jenna replied with a curt nod. “But I just have one question.”

“Shoot,” Peter told her.

“How old are you? Because . . . well, you look pretty young.”

Tony started laughing and Peter gave him an annoyed look.

“Stop laughing! You do this every time!” Peter exclaimed, lightly slapping his arm.

“Everybody thinks you’re, like, sixteen! You look barely old enough to have your license!” Tony shot back, his laughter dying down.

“I’m twenty-one,” he told Jenna. “I’m not underage, if you were wondering. Tony may be a bit of a mad scientist, but he doesn’t date people who are underage.”

“Okay, good. I was just worried for a second. Um, thank you for not firing me and I swear I won’t tell anybody. I should get going,” she rushed out with a relieved smile.  Without another word, she made her way out of the auditorium, holding her jacket close to her chest.

When she got back to her floor, Dylan and Ashley bombarded her with questions about what took her so long, but she just told them that it took her a second to find it.  Of course, they weren’t satisfied with that answer, but Jenna didn’t let anything slip.

That was the third time Stark Industries employees saw Peter.

4.

When Jenna walked into work the next morning, early as always, she found an envelope sitting on her designated area of her group desk, which separated into four sections for her project team to sit at. Across the front, it had her first name written out in a neat, cursive scrawl. She furrowed her brows as she looked at it, questions racing through her mind as she wondered who it could’ve been from.

Without another thought, she ripped it open and pulled out the contents. She unfolded the paper that was inside only to find a letter written in the same handwriting.

Dear Jenna,

I wanted to write you a letter, but realized that I never caught your name yesterday. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked FRIDAY who you were. Thinking back on it, that definitely makes me sound like a creep, so I apologize.

I wanted to thank you for not completely flipping out on Tony and I in the auditorium yesterday. I know that the whole thing was definitely crazy and it would’ve made sense if you freaked out. I also wanted to thank you for not immediately telling anybody. Seeing as no news stories have come out and nobody in the building has confronted Tony, I’m assuming you didn’t leak it, which is relieving.

I hope you’re doing well and if you need literally anything, just drop off a letter in the company mailroom in box 106.

As a thank you, there’s a Starbucks gift card also in the envelope! I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, but seeing as you work in R&D and most of the employees in that department survive off coffee, I’m going to assume you do. Enjoy!

I’ll (hopefully) talk to you soon!

-Peter

P.S. Tony might not say it, but he’s also grateful that you haven’t leaked anything! I can promise that you’re good in his books :)

“What’s that?” Ashley asked, sneaking up behind Jenna and startling the woman.

“It’s nothing,” Jenna replied quickly while shoving the letter back into the envelope and cramming it into her bag. Ashley gave her a suspicious look but let it go, sitting down at her area of the group desk that was beside Jenna’s.

“I have a prediction!” Dylan announced as he entered the almost empty floor and waltzed over to Jenna and Ashley. He collapsed onto his stool and dumped his bag onto the floor beside him.

“This should be good,” Ashley muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms.

Jenna just looked away.

“So, we’ve established that it’s strange that nobody has ever heard of Peter and how, out of nowhere, he shows up!”

“Yeah, that’s kinda why we all think it’s weird,” Jenna shot at him, hoping that it covered up her panic.

“It’s also odd that he’s got a bit of a resemblance to Stark,” Dylan continued, decidedly ignoring her.

“I don’t see it,” Jenna interrupted once more, but the man didn’t stop.

“Maybe, just maybe, Peter is Stark’s son who he didn’t want in the spotlight until he was old enough to handle it!”

Ashley gasped while Jenna glanced away from them with a look of both panic and amusement. 

“Or Peter is Stark’s illegitimate child and he doesn’t want to have a scandal!” Ashley built on the theory with an excited smile and wide eyes.

“What do you think, Jenna?” Dylan asked, and both of Jenna’s teammates had their eyes on her.

“I think you two are full of bullshit,” Jenna told them, trying hard to keep her voice steady. “He’s probably just Stark’s intern. Maybe he’s a super genius or something.”

“Bor-ring!” Ashley replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, our theory is way better,” Dylan bragged, a bit of humor in his tone.

Jenna stayed oddly quiet for the rest of the morning.

+++

When lunch rolled around, Dylan and Ashley went off to the food court floor of the building, but Jenna decided that she wanted to make use of the Starbucks gift card she’d been given. When she opened the envelope back up to get it, she discovered that it was a two-hundred dollar gift card, which left her in shock for a few moments. Still, she shook herself out of it and went to go get a sandwich and a coffee.

After lunch, she found herself back with her teammates, working on their project, but sipping on a venti white chocolate mocha this time around. Around half an hour after they’d come back from lunch, the elevator doors opened to reveal Peter, wearing a sunny yellow sweater that matched the smile on his face. He walked out of the elevator and seemingly ignored all the eyes on him. He made his way over to a table working on prosthetics and began to help them out, the team there looking a bit surprised but extremely grateful for the assistance.

When Peter looked up and spotted Jenna, he gave her an even brighter smile, which she returned. She shook the coffee cup in her hand a little, bringing his attention to it, and he gave a silent chuckle. Jenna took a sip of her mocha and turned back to her project.

“What the fuck was that?” Ashley asked, drawing both of her teammates away from where they were designing arm prosthetics.

“What?” Dylan and Jenna replied in unison.

“That little interaction you just had with Peter,” the blonde woman elaborated, looking at Jenna accusingly.

“What interaction?” the man piped up before the brunette could respond.

“She and Peter made eye contact and smiled at each other and then Jenna held up her coffee cup and Peter chuckled!”

Dylan gave Ashley an incredulous look before shifting his gaze to Jenna.

“It was nothing,” Jenna defended with a level voice before getting back to work.

“Does this have something to do with the letter from this morning?”

“What letter?” Jenna and Dylan asked in unison.

Ashley sighed. “Jenna, come on, just tell me what’s going on? Is there something you know that we don’t?”

Before the brunette could even respond, Peter passed by their table.

“Hey, Jenna!” the young man greeted cheerily.

“Hey, Peter,” she responded, a smile on her face.

When he was gone, she went right back to her work, ignoring the looks from her teammates.

Jenna knew it was going to be a long rest of her day.

That was the fourth time Stark Industries employees saw Peter.

5.

By the next Friday, the questions from Dylan and Ashley had died down, but the suspicious glances were definitively not stopping, nor becoming anymore secretive. Luckily, though, Jenna was becoming better and better at ignoring the looks from her coworkers.

There were no more appearances from Peter, but Jenna had been enjoying exchanging letters with the brunet. The letters would sometimes be accompanied by pictures, mostly of Peter and Tony, and the woman had fun printing dumb pictures of her own and sending them back. The two would share funny stories and talk about themselves, though Peter still never shared his last name, but the brunette didn’t blame him for that; she knew he wanted to continue to keep himself on the down low. Tony would sometimes put in a few sentences on a letter, mostly a short quip about something his boyfriend wrote, and Jenna couldn’t help but find her boss’s dry wit rather humorous.

As the weekend approached once more, Jenna found herself feeling glad to get away from her teammates’ conspicuous looks and probing questions. When it reached midday, she was beyond happy to escape to the food court, rushing in order to get ahead of Ashley and Dylan. 

When she walked into the food court, she knew there was something going on. The chatter of the floor was quieter than normal, despite the normal amount of people being there. It was less conversation and more pointed whispers. When she followed where everybody’s eyes were looking, she discovered Peter sitting at one of the round tables on his own.

The young man had a couple slices of pizza on a plate in front of him, with one slice in his hand. He had wireless earbuds in and his phone was propped up using a pop socket attached to the back. It was obvious that he was watching some show or another.

Jenna simply shrugged and went to grab her own food, paying no mind to the whispered gossip spreading across the floor. She got a container of Chinese food from one of the stations and looked around to find a place to sit before realizing that she didn’t know where to go. She usually sat with her teammates, but she had been trying to escape them until she had to get back to work, which left her with nobody to eat lunch with.

In a strange and unusual burst of confidence, Jenna walked across the floor and toward Peter’s table, decidedly brushing off the eyes that followed her. She put her food down and sat in the chair across from her boss’s boyfriend, attempting to act casual as the quiet chatter toned down in order to hear what happened next.

Peter looked up when she sat down, seemingly confused that somebody was joining him at his table. When he saw that it was Jenna, however, he cracked a bright smile. He took out his earbuds and put them back into the carrying case before shutting off his phone and setting it face down on the table.

“Hey, Jenna!” His tone was bubbly, an air of familiarity to it. Just hearing him talk made Jenna feel calmer; the boy had a way of doing that.

“Hey, Peter,” she greeted back, less excitedly but still conveying that she was happy to see him again. “What’s up?”

“Not much! Tony’s in a meeting and I decided to come down here for lunch. I didn’t like how quiet it was.”

“I think you mentioned that once. That you don’t like being alone in spaces, I mean.” Jenna paid attention to every word in every letter she received from the young man. She felt like she connected to him in a way that she’d never connected to anybody before; it wasn’t like any friendship she had in the past.

“Yeah. It just feels nice to know that the world is still turning and I’m not completely alone.” He looked sad for a moment, eyes glazed over and distant. It was a somber kind of happiness, a mix of emotions that weren’t supposed to be mixed in case of an explosion, but not a loud one; it was more of a combustion, internal and quiet, soft and powerful. “But, anyways, what’ve you been up to?”

“Not much,” Jenna replied, trying to move on from the delicate moment. “Been working on the prototype for the prosthetics and I think it’s going well. There’s a few bits and pieces that me and my teammates have gotta work out before we send the design to our lab director, but I think we’ll get there soon.”

“That’s really cool! I honestly can’t wait for the prosthetics line to go into production! I think it's really gonna change the game since it’s gonna be a high tech line but also more affordable than the competitors!” Peter’s eyes were shining, the gleam replacing the far off look from only moments earlier.

“I’m excited for it too!” Jenna admitted. “I know it’s gonna help so many people and I can’t wait for it to go on the market!”

Peter opened his mouth to respond, but his phone buzzed before he could speak. He picked it up and read the notification, giving a small chuckle and typing out a response before looking up at Jenna.

“Was that . . .?” Jenna trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence but sure that the brunet caught her drift.

“Yeah,” Peter responded easily with a fond, but exasperated, look. “He finished his meeting and asked if I saved him some food from my lunch. I did, but I’m tempted to eat it myself and tell him to go get his own food.”

Jenna snorted.

“I’m not that mean, though, so I’m gonna take him the last two slices.” He slid his phone into his back pocket and his earbuds case into his front one before standing up and grabbing the plate with the two slices of pizza.

“I’ll see you later, Jenna!” he called as he walked away, heading towards the private elevator.

“See you, Peter!” With that, the woman went back to eating her lunch, as if nothing had happened at all.

When two people sat down at the table, Jenna looked up at them, only to find her two teammates, who had bewildered and suspicious looks on their faces. Dylan’s brow was furrowed and Ashley’s eyes were narrowed, the blonde obviously more dubious than him.

“What the actual fuck, Jenna?” she asked, voicing everybody’s thoughts.

“What?” the brunette replied as if she didn’t know.

“Don’t act all innocent! How are you so friendly with him?! This shit doesn’t add up!” Dylan nodded along to Ashley’s words. 

Jenna gave an exasperated sigh.

“Sorry, but that’s confidential information. NDA’s and all that, ya know?” She was trying everything she could to weasel her way out of it, but it was the first time she’d given her teammates a semi-straight answer, even if it wasn’t that revealing.

“Oh, come on, Jenna!” Dylan finally spoke up. “It can’t be anything that serious! Just tell us what’s going on?”

“I’m afraid that Ms. Locke is right, Mr. Hoffman. This is confidential information that Ms. Locke does not have the authority nor the necessity to reveal to you,” FRIDAY interrupted, garnering the attention of the people watching.

Jenna only shrugged under the intense gazes of her coworkers, but it still shut them up about it.

That was the fifth time Stark Industries employees saw Peter.

+1

It was relatively quiet for the next few weeks after the food court incident. While the suspicious glances remained, the questions had died down, though whispers still followed Jenna around as her coworkers spread rumors about how she knew Peter.

Speaking of the brunet, he hadn’t shown up since the incident, but he and Jenna had continued to exchange letters, becoming closer friends as time went on. The next time news about Peter came, it was only news for Jenna, as nobody else had any clue of how the young man was involved.

It had happened when Tony Stark had come to the R&D floor to talk to the employees there about the progress on the prosthetics line. Everybody had been trying extra hard to look busy as the man went around, all of them hoping to seem like they were valuable employees who actually did work.

Jenna’s team was the last that the billionaire came to, but as soon as he started talking to them, the brunette noticed something.

He had an engagement ring on.

The woman mentioned nothing, though she did freeze for a moment when she noticed it. Still, she pushed through and continued with the discussion about the progress they had been making.

When her boss later stepped away to answer a text, she quickly told her coworkers she had to use the restroom, rushing away and going down the hallway that Tony had gone down, which happened to lead to the bathrooms.

When she got there, she found him smiling down at his phone and typing quickly.

“Did you guys get . . .?” Jenna started, but trailed off at the end, startling the man a bit. He looked up at her, eyes a bit wide, but immediately recognized her. He looked confused at the question for a moment before realizing that her eyes were on his ring.

“Yeah, we did,” Tony answered, looking a bit sheepish as a blush painted his cheeks.

“How did it happen?” It was obvious that the girl was excited to find out.

“It’s actually pretty funny. I got down on one knee to propose and he looked so exasperated and I freaked out because I thought he was gonna break up with me or something. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. He was planning on proposing that night too.”

“That’s absolutely incredible!” Jenna told him excitedly, but still kept her voice quiet.

“When we told our friends, they all looked so unsurprised that something like that would happen for him and I.”

The two both laughed before the billionaire’s phone buzzed again.

“I’ve got a meeting in, like, five minutes, so I should probably go.”

The two said their goodbyes and he started to walk back out to the main area to head to the private elevator, but stopped and turned around before he could.

“Just do you know, you’re invited to the wedding.”

Without another word, he walked away, leaving Jenna standing there in shock. A million thoughts were racing through her head and her eyes were still trained on the end of the hallway where the man had disappeared from.

“I’m invited to the wedding,” she whispered to herself. Taking a moment, she shook herself out of it and began walking back to her team’s table to get back to work.

Before she could get there, though, Ashley rushed at her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back the way she came. The blonde pulled her into the women’s restroom and checked every stall to make sure they were empty before turning back to her coworker.

“What the fuck it this?!” She held up a letter and  Jenna immediately knew who it was from. She snatched it from her co worker's hand and skimmed through it, praying to Thor that it wasn’t one of the letters that explicitly mentioned Peter dating Tony. She then proceeded to thank Thor when she realized that it was one one of the notes that mentioned a relationship, but not outright who it was with.

“Okay, Peter and I have been talking through letters. So what?” she replied, attempting to keep her voice steady so it sounded like she wasn’t fazed by the whole thing.

“Are you fucking with me?! You’re friends with this mysterious dude who’s all buddy-buddy with Tony fucking Stark and you’re expecting me to just let that go?! You’re out of your mind!” Ashley was obviously worked up about the whole thing and the brunette didn’t know what to say, but, luckily, her coworker started talking again before she could get a word out.

“You’ve been so secretive these past couple months and it’s been annoying as all hell! You’re not telling me anything and it feels like I’m so disconnected from you! Just tell me what’s going on!”

“I can’t! I can’t tell you what’s going on! I’m sorry that I don’t wanna lose my fucking job just so you can know every aspect of my life! Just let it go and leave me and my letters alone!” Jenna blew up, which was something she didn’t do very often.

Unsurprisingly, Ashley looked taken aback, shock written across her face. Jenna immediately regretted it.

“I’m sorry,” she told her friend softly. “I just can’t tell you.”

Jenna turned around and left the bathroom, the letter in her grasp. As soon as she was out, she went to her lab director and asked if she could leave a little early, giving the excuse of feeling sick. Of course, her lab director was understanding as always and let her go. She quickly gathered her stuff, ignoring the looks from Ashley and Dylan, and hightailed it out of there.

+++

“Dylan!” the R&D lab director, Kelsey, called from her office.

The man shot up from his team’s table, where the silence was as dense as molasses and the tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

“Yes?” Dylan asked as he made his way over and placed himself in the open doorway. The director stood up and handed him a couple files.

“I have to go to a meeting, but these files need to be turned in. Could you take them up to the boss’s office for me?”

“You- you want me to take these to Mr. Stark?” His voice was a bit shaky.

“It’s not that big of a deal. You go to floor 89, you find the office with his name on it, you knock on the door, you tell him that I sent you, you give him the files, and you leave. I promise it’s not as stressful as you think it is.” Kelsey’s tone was comforting, but it did little to ease his anxieties.

“Okay,” he muttered, turning around and heading towards the elevator.

When the doors opened and Dylan stepped in, he found himself alone in the elevator. The silence was filled up by his anxious thoughts about what could go wrong. He spent the entire ride up trying to take deep breaths and remember that it was a simple job; just go in, give him the files, and leave.

The elevator stopped and he stepped off onto the eerily quiet office floor. It seemed that nobody was there and it freaked him out; it felt like a horror movie. He crept along the halls until he made it to a door with his boss’s name on it. He raised his hand to knock until he heard voices coming from inside.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” That was Tony Stark’s voice, and Dylan recognized it immediately.

“It just is!” A voice replied. It took Dylan all of three seconds to realize that it was the mysterious Peter who seemed to show up at the most random of times.

Against his better judgment, Dylan peered through the semi-open blinds that covered the windows of the office. When he did so, he found Peter sitting on the edge of the desk and Tony a couple feet in front of him.

“It doesn’t seem like that hard of a decision. If you don’t like this guy, don’t invite him to the wedding! It’s so simple!” The billionaire looked confused at the dilemma at hand, though Dylan had no clue what they were talking about. He was getting married?

“But it’s not! I don’t want to invite him, but it would be rude if I didn’t!” Peter looked worked up about the whole thing, face slightly flushed and fiddling with his hands.

“It might be rude, but if you don’t want him there, then don’t invite him!”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Except that it is.”

“Maybe for you!” It wasn’t a yell, but it wasn’t quiet. Peter had stopped fiddling with his fingers and was now pulling slightly at his hair.

“What do you mean?” Tony spoke like he could accidentally shatter the young man in front of him if he wasn’t careful.

“I mean that you’re Tony Stark. You’re a famous billionaire that can do whatever you want. If you don’t want to invite somebody, you don’t invite them. You don’t care if it’s rude because you’re Tony fucking Stark and you can do anything you’d like. I’m not like that, I can’t just do whatever I want. I’m Peter Parker, an average guy from Queens, and I’ve always been just that. If I’m rude, there’s consequences and it can actually affect my life. I have to think things like this over, even if you see it as trivial.”

Tony paused for a moment, letting the words sink in.

“Except you’re not just some average guy. You’re Peter fucking Parker. You’re incredible. You’re gonna change the entire world. Maybe I don’t get these kinds of things because I was raised in such a different world than you, but all I want is for you to be happy. Whatever choice you make here, I’ll be fine with, but that isn’t what I care about. I care about you, because you’re the most amazing person on this planet. You’re Peter Parker, the man I fell in love with.”

Dylan’s jaw dropped as he finally found the closure he’d been seeking for months. He knew what Peter’s last name was, he knew what relationship he had to Tony Stark, he knew who Peter was. He had never expected this, though. He cringed as his mind went back to that theory he had about Peter being Tony’s son.

He watched as the two shared a short kiss and finally moved back in front of the door, feeling the need to give his boss the files, run back down to his floor, and tell his teammates everything.

Dylan knocked on the door and he could almost feel the two men inside freeze in shock. It only took a second before the door opened, though, and revealed Peter Parker standing there with Tony Stark slightly behind him, both of them looking worried.

“Uh, I’m from R&D and my lab director, Kelsey, asked me to deliver these files,” Dylan stuttered out, failing at his attempt to remain casual.

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, thanks,” Peter replied, seemingly relieved as he took the files.

“I, um, bye, I guess,” Dylan stammered before turning around and booking it out of there. He could feel the two men’s eyes on him as he left.

When Dylan got to the elevator, he pressed on the button a few times, praying for it to arrive faster, and jumped on the moment the doors had opened wide enough to get through. He then adamantly pressed the button for the R&D floor. The elevator ride down felt much longer than the one up.

When Dylan did get to his floor, he raced through the doors and to his teammates, grabbing each of them by the upper arm and dragging them into the men’s restroom. He checked every stall to make sure they were alone before locking the bathroom door and turning back to his teammates.

“You guys aren’t gonna believe this!” Dylan announced. “I found out some crazy shit!”

“Why am I here?” Jenna asked him in a deadpan voice. “Can I leave?”

“Jenna, you’ll actually wanna hear this! I found out who Peter is!”

Ashley and Jenna both froze, but for different reasons.

“You gotta tell us!” Ashley exclaimed excitedly.

“No, you better fucking not!” Jenna said over her.

“What?! Why?!” Dylan looked genuinely confused.

“Because we’re not supposed to know! It’s obvious he wants to keep his identity a secret! You can’t go around telling people! You need to tell him and Stark that you know so they can feel sure that his identity won’t get leaked!”

“God, you’re such a buzzkill, Jenna,” Ashley shot at her.

“No, I’m a good person.”

It made her teammates go silent, the words piercing through them like knives.

“If you wanna go and tell and lose your job, then go ahead, but I want no part of it.” Jenna turned around and started to leave.

“Do you know?” Dylan asked her, making the woman stop in her tracks.

“What?” Jenna slowly turned back to him.

“Do you know?” he repeated, voice cold and serious.

Jenna stayed silent for a few moments, mulling over what she could say.

“Not on purpose . . .”

“And you didn’t tell us?” Ashley questioned, betrayal written across her face.

“Sorry I respect their privacy!” It was obvious that she was very much not sorry.

“Wait . . . did you find out when you went back to get your jacket after the presentation?!” Dylan exclaimed, looking like he had put all the puzzle pieces together. When Jenna stayed quiet, he knew that he had gotten his answer. “Holy shit! What happened?! Did you, like, see them kiss or some shit?!”

“Kiss?!” Ashley shouted.

“Jesus Christ,” Jenna muttered, putting her head in her hands.

“No fucking way! They’re in a relationship?!”

“Yeah!”

“That’s it,” Jenna declared decisively and turned around.

“Where are you going?” Ashley asked her, bewilderment shining in her eyes.

“I’m going to go tell them that Dylan figured it out and that you know,” Jenna told the blonde, voice laced with venom.

Jenna unlocked the door and left, not letting her teammates get another word in, but the two followed her out and watched as she stormed past all her coworkers and to the elevator, disappearing as soon as the doors opened.

“I might lose my job,” Dylan muttered, eyes wide and trained on the now closed elevator doors.

“Is it true?” one of the other employees, Amelia, asked as she walked up to Dylan and Ashley.

“Is what true?” Ashley replied.

“That Peter and Stark are in a relationship? You guys were implying it in there, and you aren’t exactly good at being quiet.”

“I’m definitely gonna lose my job,” Dylan whispered, correcting his earlier statement.

“So it is true!” Eric, another employee, shouted.

Everybody started talking, the floor turning into a storm of chattering.

“We’re so fucked. We’re absolutely, completely, utterly fucked,” Ashley murmured, only loud enough so Dylan could hear, and the man only nodded in agreement.

The two slowly walked forwards, looking around at their gossiping coworkers as they made their way back to their desk. They looked completely horrified, and guilt was quickly eating away at Dylan.

Before they could sit down, the elevator doors opened and Jenna walked out with Tony and Peter in tow. Everybody stopped, staring at the three of them. Peter looked nervous and tears were glistening in his eyes, but Tony just looked furious, his expression mirroring Jenna’s.

“Okay, which of you knows?” Tony asked the room, his voice deadly calm. He didn’t yell or scream, but that steady tone was almost worse than him blowing up at them.

One employee raised their hand, and everybody else followed, the last people to put their hands up being Ashley and Dylan.

“All of you, go to the auditorium. Now. All the other employees will meet you there. Do not say a word of this to them before I get there to talk to them about it. Do I make myself clear?” 

If looks could kill, all of the R&D employees, minus Jenna, would be dead. All of them mumbled their confirmations or nodded and slowly shuffled off to the elevators, heading to the auditorium floor.

Ashley and Dylan had fallen into the back of the crowd and were the last to get onto an elevator, meaning they could see the floor before the door closed. The two watched as Tony turned back to Peter and Jenna, who were looking regretful and heartbroken respectfully. The last thing they saw before the elevator started moving was Peter beginning to cry and burying his face in Tony’s shoulder as the man embraced him and Jenna putting a comforting hand on his back.

By the time the R&D employees reached the auditorium and began to make their way into the seats, other employees were either already there or just getting there. There was chatter, a mix of people confused why they had been called there and those who knew praying that they wouldn’t be fired. The chatter seemed to die down a bit as everybody was seated, all of them waiting in anticipation for whatever was going to happen.

After a few minutes, the doors of one of the entrances to the auditorium, which had been closed, slammed open. Everybody turned, though plenty of them couldn’t see the doors, and watched as Tony Stark stormed down the aisle towards the stage, Jenna Locke behind him and looking slightly less, but still plenty, furious. The two made their way up the three stairs that led up to the stage.

All the employees gazed up at the two standing center stage, and they were glaring back at them with serious faces. After a moment of silence, Tony finally spoke.

“I’m sure the majority of you are wondering why I called everybody to the auditorium. Today, somebody found out something that they shouldn’t have about my private life and, instead of coming and talking to me about it in order to keep it confidential, they went and told somebody, and those people’s department overheard. That person who found out and told will be fired and the person who was first told and was complicit in revealing information about my life will be put on probation.”

In the back of the auditorium, Dylan and Ashley sank down in their seats.

“You may also be wondering why I have one of your coworkers up here with me today. If you weren’t already aware, this is Jenna Locke.”

Jenna gave the audience a curt nod.

“Jenna also found out about this information a couple months ago. Instead of telling anybody, she talked to us and promised to keep it to herself, and she has kept that promise. She was also the one who told me about the information leak.”

The employees, minus the R&D department, were on the edge of their seats, eager to find out the information but scared of their boss and what he could do to them if things got out.

“Seeing as nothing can seem to stay a secret here, I have elected to talk to you all about it. Keep in mind that what happened in terms of this information being revealed was a serious breach of confidentiality and disrespected not just my own privacy. Take this as a warning. If any of you are to tell anybody outside of this company about this, your employment will be terminated and my legal team will sue you to kingdom come. This is not a three strikes you’re out situation. Do not tell a soul about this. Keep in mind the fact that you all signed non-disclosure agreements when you took this job. This counts as a company secret, and you will treat it as one.”

Everybody seemed to nod or give a murmur of confirmation. It wasn’t much, but it appeared to satisfy the man.

“Moving on, I’m sure you’ve all either seen or heard about Peter. Only a select few of you know who he is, though without his consent, and others have seen us interact but never known who we are to each other. This information about our private lives was discovered and we have no choice but to let you all know in fear of rumors and gossip being spread around and taken outside the company. Everybody, please meet my fiancé, Peter Parker.”

The room was shocked into silence, the only sound being the clacking of Peter’s shoes as he softly walked out from the wings and to Tony’s side. None of the employees uttered even a sound as they looked up at the boy, whose eyes were still slightly red and puffy from when he had cried only ten minutes earlier.

“Hey, everybody. I’m Peter. You’ve all probably seen me around,” the young man introduced himself, voice only loud enough to hear. “Like Tony said, we weren’t planning on telling people yet, but we don’t get that choice anymore.”

They were still silent.

“Since this will be your only chance to do so, we’ll be answering questions about this,” Peter continued. Nobody spoke, until one person in the third row raised their hand and the young man motioned to them. “Yes, go ahead.”

“How, uh, how old are you?” the woman asked quietly, looking slightly concerned.

Peter sighed as Tony looked to him with a humorous smile.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he told the billionaire, who didn’t have a chance to respond before Jenna started laughing a bit. “You too?! I can’t believe you would betray me like this! This happens every fucking time!”

The employee who asked furrowed her eyebrows, seemingly mirroring the confusion of the rest of the audience.

“I’m twenty-one,” Peter told her. “Tony likes to make fun of me because I look like I’m not old enough to drive. Jenna’s laughing because she asked the same question when she found out.”

The woman nodded along with the explanation and everybody went silent again before another person raised their hand and Peter pointed to them.

+++

Eight Months Later

“And this is your team!” Kelsey told the new employees excitedly. “Meet Jenna and Ashley! They’ve been here for a while and are definitely excited to show you the ropes!”

“It’s nice to meet you!” Jenna greeted. “What’s your name?”

“I’m River,” the new guy replied quietly, cheeks flushed.

“I’m glad to have you on the team, River!” Ashley exclaimed.

“I’ll leave you all to it!” Kelsey gave River one last smile and walked off to talk to some teams about their projects.

“We’re finishing up some last touches on the update to the prosthetics line,” Jenna explained to the new recruit as he sat down. He nodded along as she began to explain the project.

Jenna was cut off by the elevator doors opening and Peter walking onto the floor.

“Excuse me for a second,” the woman told her team before jumping up and running over to the brunet.

“Who’s that?” River asked Ashely as he watched Jenna excitedly embrace the man and begin to talk to him.

“Have you signed all your NDAs?”

River nodded.

“Peter!” Ashely called. “Come meet the new kid!”

Peter bounded over eagerly, a large smile on his face as he approached the two employees, Jenna trailing him.

“Uh, hi, I’m River.”

“Nice to meet you, River! I’m Peter Parker. It’s always great to see new faces around here!”

“It’s great to be here,” he replied awkwardly.

Peter nodded and was off again, going around to teams and helping with projects, but, more importantly, just talking to the employees in general.

“Is he a director or something? Everybody seems to know him,” River questioned his team.

“He’s even better than a director,” Ashley told him with a grin. “He’s Tony’s Stark’s fiancé.”

Shock painted itself across River’s face.

“There’s no way that’s real!”

Ashley and Jenna glanced at each other before turning back to River. They didn’t say anything else to him, which was unnerving to the new employee.

As if on cue, the elevator doors opened once more and the Tony Stark walked out, a small smile adorning his face. Peter worked up from where he was helping a team and flitted over to the man happily. The two shared a short kiss before Peter turned back a bit.

“We still on for lunch on Friday, Jenna?”

“Of course!”

Peter shot her a smile and the couple entered the elevator, talking quietly as they disappeared behind the metal doors.

“Okay, so maybe it is real.”

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added or removed):

@darkerstarker @dim-ships-johnlock @haylove5

[teacupfulofstarshine]

when you look at me with those eyes (i’m speechless)

summary: virgil finally manages to ask out the pretty enby in his class, just in time for his father's epic gala event. sadly, neither of them would know fashion if it bit them in the ass. luckily, they both have friends to help them out. 

(OR: almost 3k words of analogical being useless fluffy gays)

wordcount: 2934

ships: romantic analogical, background romantic roceit, background queerplatonic intruality, background romantic remile

cw: cursing 

read it on ao3!! 

“So, uh, wh - what do you say?” 

Logan looks up from their desk, homework long forgotten. Their left hand is stretched out to cover the little doodle they’d been doing of the back of Virgil’s head, and now Virgil himself is standing in front of them, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly and looking anywhere except at Logan. He’s still wearing that patchwork purple plaid hoodie, and for some reason the only thing Logan can think of is that it’s definitely a violation of their school uniform. 

Virgil’s eyes skitter back to their face, skipping from their shoulder to their chest to their neck to their cheek. Their eyes meet for a moment, Virgil’s illuminated by the afternoon sunshine pouring in, and Logan forgets how to breathe. Virgil’s pink face gets even pinker, and his eyes settle on a point fixed above Logan’s shoulder. 

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” he snaps. “If you’re gonna reject me, just -”

“No!” Logan blurts. Virgil’s shoulders jump up to his ears, and Logan stands so fast their chair falls over behind them. “I - I mean - I’m not rejecting you, I - um - yes! Yes, I - I’d love to! That is to say - I - uh -” 

Virgil laughs a little, reaching out and tucking a stray curl of Logan’s hair behind their ear. They hadn’t even noticed that wisps had started escaping their high ponytail, but Virgil just smiles at them. “Cool,” he says. 

“Yes,” Logan breathes. “It - it is, objectively, quite ‘cool’.” 

“The event’s on Saturday night.” Virgil’s fingers tuck their hair behind their ear, gently tracing down the curve of their neck and sliding up to touch their jaw. “Pick you up around six PM or so?” 

Logan swallows, and they’re sure Virgil can hear it but he gives no indication if he did. “That - that sounds optimal.” They cringe inwardly - optimal? What the hell? - but Virgil just laughs and slides his hand up to cup their cheek. 

“You keep busting out all those smart-person words and I’m gonna have to kiss you before I buy you dinner, and that’s not very nice of me.” His hand drops from Logan’s face, and it takes all their willpower not to scream for him to put it back. He gently picks up their hand, lifting it to his bitten-raw lips and gently pressing a kiss to the back. “That’ll have to hold you over until then.” 

He turns and saunters away, and Logan grips the edge of their desk. They almost sit down on the chair they’d knocked over, catching themselves at the last second. Looking around the empty classroom, they catch sight of themselves reflected in the windows. They’d opted for a mixture of the uniforms today, wearing the boys’ shirt, vest, and tie over the girls’ skirt, knee-high stockings, and shoes. Their hair is tightly tied back with a plain hair tie, no ribbon, only one curl out of place where Virgil had tucked it behind their ear. 

They don’t typically dress themselves for much other than school (uniform), work (uniform), or home (casual clothing). They have no idea what they should wear for a date. Their phone buzzes on the desk, and they snatch it up quickly, flipping it open to see a message from Virgil. 

(They’d forgotten he had their number, from that project they did together last month.) 

You have: One! New message! 

FROM: Virgil 

hey, forgot to tell u - this gala is like, a bfd for my dads’ company, so dress up! like its prom or smthn, or a wedding 

Logan exhales, gathering up their school things and shoving them into their bag with an uncharacteristic haphazardness. This is going to require . . . outside intervention.

(Meanwhile, a few doors down, Virgil slams the door to his own classroom, shoves his face into his hands, and lets out the quietest feral screech he can manage. Derek, seated on the teacher’s desk with Roman pulled up between his legs, raises a single eyebrow.

“Is that a screech of success or a screech of failure, Virgil?”)

*~*~*~*~*

“What does one wear on a ‘fancy date’? I have never been to a wedding or a prom, let alone a gala! I do not own anything fancy!” Logan paces around their bedroom, hair hanging loose around their shoulders. Patton is on his back, hanging upside-down off of their bed and flipping through some sort of guitar catalog. Remus is curled up in Logan’s desk chair with some sort of slime in his hand. “Remus, if you get slime on my belongings I will end you.” 

Remus grins, looking deranged, and Logan resists the childish urge to throw something at him. 

“Don’t sweat it, Lo-Lo!” Patton says. “I’ve got a ton of pretty clothes in my room, you can borrow something from me! We’re still the same size, right?” 

“I assume so,” Logan says, “but what if I do not look right in your clothing? Our styles are vastly different, I would not wish to present a false impression of myself to him, I -”

“You worry too much!” Remus says. “Virge asked you out even though you’re a workaholic disaster who wouldn’t know the meaning of ‘relax’ if it bit him in the -”

“Remus!” Patton scolds, throwing one of Logan’s decorative constellation pillows at him. Remus bats it away with his foot. 

“Please do not throw things around,” Logan says tiredly. “Particularly my things.” 

“Sorry, Lo!” Remus does not apologize, but he does put the slime he’s been playing with back into its little plastic container. 

“Well, actually,” Patton says, flipping over onto his tummy, “it just so happens that I’ve been waiting for exactly this moment.” Logan looks at their twin in confusion. “I knew that eventually, there was gonna come a day where you would look at somebody and want to go on a date with them, whether it be a simple movie or a fancy date like this one, and you were gonna call me in here - didn’t know Remus would be here too, but he’s not unwelcome -”

“Thank you?” 

“- and you’d pace around and panic and go, ‘Patton! I don’t have anything optimal for this date, and our personal styles are so vastly different! What ever is there to be done?’” Patton flings one hand dramatically across his forehead like a Victorian woman fainting onto a couch. Logan raises one eyebrow. 

“So! I came up with the perfect solution! I’ve been secretly acquiring outfits for you! Stuff that you could wear for a variety of situations that you wouldn’t ever think of! We can mix and match to find something you like! Oh, and I also have a ton of unopened hypoallergenic makeup in a box in my closet!” 

Logan stares at him, blinking and trying to process everything Patton’s just told them. “You . .. you really did all that, for . . . for me?” 

“Yeah, of course I did! You’re my twin, Lo. I love you.” Patton smiles, bright and open and honest, and Logan blinks again, and suddenly their cheeks are wet. 

“Are you fucking crying because Patton is a considerate brother?!” Remus cackles. Logan whirls around, hiding their face and wiping at it frantically. “Oh my god, you are, I fucking called it, Roman owes me twenty bucks!” 

“You bet on this?” Patton asks, disapproving. Logan laughs a little, turning around to hug their twin. They can’t quite bring themselves to care about Remus’s gambling right now. 

*~*~*~*~*

“Why are you bitching?” Roman asks, pulling Derek’s hand up to his face. He’d forgotten his saline solution at his own house, so he’s wearing his old red glasses, bangs pulled up in a shitty unicorn-horn ponytail as he squints at Derek’s nails. Derek holds a book up with his free hand. “You managed to get them to go out with you, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, but I was awkward as fuck about it, Roman!” Virgil complains. He considers throwing something at Roman, or shoving a pillow over his face and screaming (again), but the deep indigo-purple polish on their fingernails is still drying. “I touched their hair, they probably think I’m a fucking creep!” 

“As someone with that exact reputation,” Derek says, “I highly doubt they would have agreed to accompany you on a date if they shared your sentiments about yourself.” 

“Yeah, but -”

“Lighten up a little, man,” Roman says, carefully stroking the yellow brush over Derek’s index nail. “You’re totally fucking with the vibe of the chill session.”

“What do you want me to do?! I told them to dress fancy cause we’re going somewhere nice, like I have any idea how to dress other than ‘crawled out of a dumpster and sewed together some punk band’s leftovers’!” 

“Why did you think you invited me?” Roman says haughtily. He’s imitating some YouTube video they’d watched earlier. “I’m the king of style!” 

“You’re the king of something,” Virgil mutters. 

“No, seriously, I’m gonna help you!” Roman says. “I’m sure you have something that looks half-decent buried in your closet, and I am nothing if not an expert in bringing things out of the closet.” Derek’s cheeks blush faintly pink, but he doesn’t say anything. “And Der here is amazing with makeup -”

“I wouldn’t say experience with stage makeup and covering my port wine stain makes me amazing or anything,” Derek begins. 

“Well I would, so shut the fuck up,” Roman says smoothly. Derek rolls his eyes and huffs fondly. “Seriously, Vee, did you really think we were gonna egg you on to ask the pretty nerd out for this long and then leave you high and dry when the time came to deliver the goods?” 

Virgil exhales, bringing his hands up to his face to examine his nails. “I think they’re dry . . .”

“Nice! Get over here, once I’m done with Derek’s base color I’m putting sparkles on you.”

“What? Why?” 

“Because it’s my house and I get to choose the bonding activity, god damn it.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?” Logan says, pulling their hair up into their traditional high ponytail. “What else am I supposed to do with it? I hate leaving it down, it feels bad on my neck -”

“I know,” Patton says, “but you can’t just put it in the same old ponytail you always do! This is a fancy gala event, you have to be fancy! ” 

“What else am I supposed to do with my hair?” 

“You will not do anything. I will do your hair,” Patton says firmly. “And by I, I mean Remus, because I’m not good at hair.” 

“Remus is not putting his hands, which have been god only knows where, in my clean hair.” 

“Rude!” Remus says. “I washed them three times today! You can inspect them if you want, I promise they’re clean!” Logan squints at his hands critically before sighing and settling into the chair in front of Patton’s vanity. 

“Very well.” 

Remus brushes through their hair and then combs it, carefully working through the knots while doing his best to preserve their natural curl. He separates two small wings and pins them out of the way before pulling the rest of Logan’s long curls into a mid-height ponytail and braiding it with surprisingly delicate fingers. He carefully twists the long braid up into a bun at the nape of Logan’s neck and pins it there with a gleaming silver hairpin tipped with a shining eight-point star with a dark blue jewel set in its center. 

Carefully, Remus unpins the locks of hair he’d set aside and braids them as well, weaving them into a crown of braids on Logan’s head and cleverly hiding the ends by pinning them into the braided bun. Finally, he pins back a few stray wispy curls with silver bobby pins that have star-shaped cubic zirconium on the ends. “Take a look!” 

Logan has had their eyes closed the entire time, quietly stimming with their hands. They open them slowly, looking in the mirror and tilting their head back and forth to see all of the work Remus has done. “Oh,” they say softly. “I love it, Remus. I look beautiful.” 

“You always look beautiful,” Remus says. “I’d ruffle your hair if I hadn’t spent so much time making it look decent.” Logan leans back, gently pressing their cheek against his shoulder. Remus huffs and mutters something about “gross affectionate shit,” but he still lets them do it. 

Patton breaks out the makeup after that, spinning the stool around so that Logan can’t see their own face in the mirror. “Alright, Lo! Time to accentuate your pretty face!” 

“That was a surprisingly accurate use of the word accentuate.” 

Patton just shrugs and grins at them. “I know big words!” 

*~*~*~*~*

“You look fine,” Roman says, pulling a strip of fabric around Virgil’s throat and beginning to knot it into a bowtie. Virgil can’t stop himself from looking over himself in the mirror one more time - dark black dress pants, a silver dress shirt, a deep purple vest that matches the polish on his nails, black and purple eyeshadow accompanied by dark red lipstick and sharp cheekbone contour courtesy of Derek. Roman pulls the purple-and-silver striped fabric of his bowtie into the final bow, and he smiles. 

“Don’t worry, Virge. I know you’re worried, but you look fine.” 

“You don’t look like a vampire at all,” Derek adds. Virgil hisses at him. “That is certainly going to help that image.” 

“Seriously,” Roman says, “don’t worry about my stupid boyfriend. Logan agreed to go out with you, and I’m sure they’re going to find you absolutely stunning.” 

Virgil rubs the back of his neck, blushing, because he knows that if he touches the hair Derek and Roman had combed and gelled and styled and wrestled with for the past thirty minutes they will collectively murder him without a second thought. Derek smiles, reaching over to pat his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Vee. Seriously. I know I mock you a lot, but you really do look good. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Virgil still feels nervous when he steps out of his car in front of the address Logan had given him. The lights are bright and cheerful, and when he knocks on the front door with his free hand, the door swings open eagerly. “Hello!” the man says cheerily. He’s wearing a pink tie and a brown cardigan, and he looks like Virgil expects Patton to in a few decades. “You must be Virgil!” 

“Uh, um, y-yes sir!” Virgil yelps. 

“Oh, you look precious! Remy, dearest, Logan’s date is here!” 

“Cool, babes,” a voice floats in from the kitchen. “I’ll take over the soup.” 

“Come on in! You can call me Emile, Lo is upstairs with Patton and Remus getting ready! Just wait here in the foyer, I’ll go up there and get them!” Emile hurries off up the stairs, and Virgil fidgets nervously with the flowers in his hand.

Patton all but slides down the bannister, grinning. “Are those for Lo?” 

“Y - yeah?”

“I’ll go get a vase out of the kitchen so they can put them in water before you two go!” Virgil pulls a single star-shaped lily bloom from the bouquet and spins it between his thumb and middle fingers. Emile comes hurrying down the stairs with a camera, sets himself up at the foot of the stairs, and shouts for Remus. 

“Finally,” Logan huffs, and then a door creaks open and shuffled footsteps approach the top of the stairs and then Virgil promptly forgets how to breathe. 

They look gorgeous. 

They have a crown of braids leading to a braided bun, studded with jewels that gleam like stars and a larger star pinning the bun back. They’re wearing the most beautiful dress Virgil has ever seen; the top is black, high-necked, and form-fitting, with short sleeves that are see-through ruffles of black gauzy material. The sleeves and the bodice are covered in sparkling silver rhinestones that look like stars in the night sky. There’s a silver band wrapped around their waist, and the skirt is made of layers of loose folds of fabric. The front comes down to their knees and the back comes down to their mid-calves, and the pattern is a soft blue-pink-purple galaxy color scheme. They have simple dark blue ballet flats on their feet, and as they get closer, what little breath Virgil had in his lungs is gone. 

Someone with experience has clearly done Logan’s makeup. Their eyes are coated in shimmery dark-blue-and-silver eyeshadow, eyes lined with soft smudged pencil and popping out of their face, freckles somehow still visible under the makeup. Their lips are glossy and pink and look so deliciously kissable that Virgil can barely restrain himself. 

“You look wonderful,” the vision in front of him says. 

“You - I - um - good!” Virgil stammers. Logan blushes, and Virgil thrusts the bouquet at them. “These - for you!” 

“Oh!” Logan takes the bouquet and smiles, and Virgil nearly passes out. “They’re beautiful! I -”

“I have a vase for you!” Patton chirps, hurrying in to take the bouquet and plop it into a vase. “I’ll leave it in your room!” Logan smiles, and Virgil reaches up to carefully tuck the lily behind their ear, into the carefully woven braids.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.” Logan flushes, smiling. 

“It makes sense that you would think that, since you cannot see yourself.” 

(Years later, at their wedding, Patton will tearfully and proudly recall how Logan and Virgil had been fifteen minutes late to the gala because Logan’s compliment had caused Virgil to faint from sheer gay joy.) 

[archivedjr]

JORDAN  RILEY  FOR  RIOT!  MAGAZINE,  feat.  mickey  alteri     ( @sequelslasher )

JORDAN  RILEY  BREEZES  INTO  HALLOWED  GROUNDS  like  something  out  of  a  movie  —  not  a  hair  out  of  place,  and  she  doesn’t  miss  a  beat  as  she  slides  into  an  empty  seat  at  the  table,  apologizing  for  running  late  when  she’s  ten  minutes  early.  When  this  is  pointed  out,  she  laughs.

“I  try  to  be  fifteen  minutes  early  to  everything;  anything  else  is  late.”

Orders  are  placed,  pleasantries  are  exchanged,  and  once  a  steaming  cup  of  jasmine  tea  is  in  front  of  her,  Riley  becomes  an  open  book  to  RIOT!

YOU  STARTED  OUT  IN  THEATRE.  WHAT  MADE  YOU  WANT  TO  TRANSITION  TO  FILM?

It  was  something  I  thought  long  and  hard  about.  I  always  knew  I’d  make  that  leap  eventually,  but  I  didn’t  know  when,  and  I  had  lots  of  conversations  with  my  agent  about  it.  It  came  down  to  waiting  for  the  right  project  to  come  along,  and  I  was  lucky  enough  for  it  to  happen  so  early.

HOW  DID  YOU  KNOW  THE  DEEP  CUT  WAS  THE  RIGHT  PROJECT?

My  agent  gave  me  the  script  to  read  over  and  on  the  train  ride  home  I  cracked  it  open;  I  couldn’t  put  it  down.  I  had  plans  with  friends  that  night  that  I  canceled  so  I  could  finish  it.  I  was  making  notes  in  the  margins,  just  immediately  highlighting,  annotating.  It  hit  me  at  one  moment  that  I  was  putting  the  cart  before  the  horse  and  I  knew  I  had  to  play  Sloane.  I  at  least  had  to  try,  or  I’d  regret  it.

WHAT  WAS  YOUR  AUDITION  LIKE?  HOW  DOES  IT  COMPARE  TO  STAGE  AUDITIONS?

Well,  I  didn’t  have  to  prepare  a  song  or  dance.  It  didn’t  stop  Mickey  from  asking  me  to  sing  a  few  bars  when  he  saw  all  the  stage  credits  on  my  resume.  [  She  laughs.  ]  It  wasn’t  too  different,  honestly.  They  had  me  read  my  sides,  and  gave  me  room  to  improv  a  little,  which  was  great  for  me  because  I  have  some  improv  training  and  I  think  my  acting  is  the  most  fresh  when  I’m  thinking  on  my  feet.  I  was  really  in  my  element  in  the  audition  room,  so  any  nerves  I  had  building  up  just  left  me  completely.

WHEN  DID  YOU  FINALLY  GET  THE  CALL?

After  about  six  weeks  from  my  initial  audition.  I  did  several  rounds  of  callbacks  after  my  first  audition  and  then  I  didn’t  hear  anything  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  I  thought,  well,  I  didn’t  get  it.  I  was  between  gigs  at  the  time  and  took  up  waitressing  because  you  still  have  bills  to  pay  and  food  to  put  on  the  table,  whether  you  book  a  job  or  not.  I  never  got  a  formal  call,  either  —  Mickey  found  out  what  restaurant  I  was  working  at,  requested  to  sit  in  my  section,  ordered  a  whole  cake  and  asked  me  to  write  ‘Congratulations  Jordan  Riley,  you  are  Sloane  Whitman’  on  it.  I  think  I  jumped  ten  feet  in  the  air,  I  was  so  happy.  I  know  I  quit  on  the  spot,  but  I  think  my  boss  understood.

THERE’S  A  LOT  OF  HEAVY  SUBJECT  MATTER  IN  THE  MOVIE.  HOW  DID  YOU  PREPARE  FOR  THOSE  SCENES?

I’d  try  and  isolate  myself  prior  to  shooting  those  particular  scenes  just  so  I  could  clear  my  head  and  get  in  the  right  mindset  and  just  wholly  and  completely  focus  and  be  in  the  moment.  And  I  think,  as  people  in  general,  if  you  live  long  enough,  you  have  some  less-than-stellar  life  experiences.  I  tapped  into  my  own  and  pulled  from  those  experiences  to  elevate  the  performance  as  best  I  could.  I  think  the  audience  knows  when  an  actor  is  simply  acting,  you  know,  running  through  the  motions,  making  sure  they  hit  the  beats,  and  when  an  actor  really  believes  the  material  they’re  trying  to  sell  and  is  in  it,  and  I  wanted  to  make  sure  I  did  all  I  could  to  be  in  it.

WHAT  WAS  YOUR  PROCESS  OF  GETTING  INTO  CHARACTER?

I  like  to  think  of  it  as  ‘soft  method.’  I  went  back  to  my  script  annotations  and  I  just  built  off  of  that.  I  thought  about  what  Sloane’s  daily  routine  would  be  like  —  she  doesn’t  have  one,  in  my  opinion  —  and  I  went  from  there.  There  was  day  where  I  hopped  on  a  bus  just  to  see  where  it  would  take  me,  which,  in  hindsight,  is  a  little  reckless  and  dangerous.  I  also  made  a  huge  playlist  of  music  I  felt  like  she’d  listen  to  and  I  played  that  when  I  was  in  hair  and  makeup,  and  I’d  have  it  on  me  to  listen  to  between  scenes  just  so  I  could  stay  in  that  headspace.

WHAT  WAS  THE  MOST  CHALLENGING  DAY  ON  SET?

I  don’t  want  to  spoil  anything,  but  the  third  act  is  about  what  you  would  expect  from  a  slasher  movie.  There’s  a  lot  of  action,  a  lot  of  things  happening,  one  right  after  the  other  and  it  all  takes  place  on  one  location  at  night.  It  took  us  weeks  to  shoot  this  sequence  of  just,  madness  happening,  and  there  was  one  point,  it’s  three  in  the  morning,  we’ve  been  shooting  for  hours  with  no  break,  I’m  covered  in  blood,  so  are  some  of  my  co-stars,  and  we’re  just  —  we’re  all  losing  our  minds,  a  little  bit.  Keeping  up  the  energy  and  staying  in  the  moment  was  definitely  a  challenge,  because  you’re  sore,  and  tired,  and  hungry,  your  throat  is  getting  hoarse  from  screaming,  but  you  still  have  a  job  to  do  and  you  have  limited  time  because  sunrise  is  in  a  few  hours  and  then  you  can’t  shoot  anything  until  the  next  night,  and  it’s  a  tight  schedule.  We  pulled  it  off  but  that  was  something  I  hadn’t  anticipated.

WHAT  WAS  THE  BEST?

Any  day  where  I  got  to  do  my  own  stunts.  I  have  a  huge  background  in  dance,  I  run  three  miles  every  morning,  and  I  have  some  experience  in  self-defense,  so  I’m  fairly  athletic,  fairly  flexible,  and  the  way  fight  scenes  work,  it  has  choreography.  It’s  a  lot  like  a  dance,  and  I  thought,  well,  I  can  do  that.  And  they  let  me!

RUMOR  HAS  IT  MICKEY  ALTIERI  IS  A  PRETTY  STRICT  DIRECTOR  TO  WORK  WITH.  WHAT  WAS  THAT  EXPERIENCE  LIKE?

I  can’t  lie  to  you,  I  was  a  little  intimidated  at  first  —  but  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  he’s  just  trying  to  make  the  finished  product  the  absolute  best  it  can  be.  That’s  what  everyone  on  set  wants,  and  when  you’re  all  working  toward  the  same  goal,  it’s  hard  to  get  upset  about  reshooting  a  scene  twenty  times.  Especially  because  —  he’ll  have  the  shot,  you  know  he  will,  but  he  wants  to  try  something  different,  wants  to  change  it  up  a  bit,  just  to  see  what  will  work,  and  he’s  really  receptive  to  suggestions  and  ideas  other  people  have.  There  were  a  few  moments  where  we  finished  a  scene,  and  it  was  good,  we  got  everything  we  needed,  but  he  goes,  okay,  let’s  try  this.  And  we  try  that,  and  it  turns  out  to  just  push  things  to  another  level.  I  really  respect  that  and  the  level  of  dedication  there  is.  It  was  the  best  motivator,  to  be  completely  honest  with  you.

WHAT  HAS  YOUR  LIFE  BEEN  LIKE  SINCE  FILMING?  DO  YOU  GET  RECOGNIZED  OFTEN?

I’ve  gotten  recognized  a  couple  of  times,  but  it  hasn’t  been  anything  extreme  yet.  More  often  than  not  people  have  kind  of  double  taked  in  the  sense  of,  ‘I  recognize  you,  but  I  can’t  place  it.’  Life’s  been  good,  though.  I’m  originally  from  Ohio  and  I  recently  got  to  go  back  home  and  visit  my  family,  which  was  great.  Everyone  was  so  excited  to  hear  about  LA  and  what  filming  was  like  and  it  was  just  nice  to  be  surrounded  by  the  people  who  mean  the  most  to  me.

WHAT  IS  YOUR  GREATEST  INSPIRATION?

My  abuela.  She’s  the  strongest  woman  I  know;  she  immigrated  here  from  Puerto  Rico  on  her  own  when  she  was  seventeen  years  old,  and  she  built  an  amazing  life  for  herself.  She’s  the  reason  I  got  into  acting  in  the  first  place.  I  think,  if  I  become  even  half  the  woman  she  is  someday,  I’ll  have  done  good.

WHAT  WAS  THE  BIGGEST  THING  YOU  LEARNED  FROM  WORKING  ON  THE  DEEP  CUT?

To  not  be  afraid  of  letting  my  guard  down  and  just  being  vulnerable,  both  as  an  actress  and  as  a  person.  You  never  really  think  about  it,  but  the  horror  genre  is  home  to  some  of  the  most  deeply  human  stories  you’ll  see  in  film,  and  this  one  taught  me  a  lot  about  myself  —  mostly,  to  stop  holding  myself  back.

WHAT’S  NEXT  FOR  YOU?

Professionally,  I’ve  got  a  stack  of  scripts  on  my  dining  room  table  I’ve  been  looking  through  and  some  auditions  lined  up.  I  can’t  say  much  more  than  that  —  just  that  I’m  excited  to  get  back  in  audition  rooms  and  see  where  it  leads  me.

Personally,  I’m  just  enjoying  the  last  few  weeks  of  anonymity  I  have.  I  might  sign  up  for  a  surfing  class  or  go  out  for  pizza  and  beers  with  my  friends  tonight.  Either  way,  life’s  been  pretty  good  to  me  lately.  I  don’t  have  any  complaints.

[spencers-dria]

Entranced by Her Touch

Someone To Stay Ch. 16

Spencer x fem reader

Spencer POV:

"What is all this?" She turns to me, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Well I know how much music means to you, and I've never had the pleasure of hearing you play."

I see the color drain quickly from her face. "Spencer I...I can't! It's been years! It wound sound..."

"Beautiful. I know anything you play would be beautiful. You'd be surprised how long muscle memory sticks around. You know, muscle memory allows us to do things like swimming or riding a bike without stopping to think or analyze each movement. The longer you played the more likely it will have stuck with you."

"Eight years" she whispers, running her fingers across the top of the keys, lightly enough to not make a sound.

"Eight years that's...wow umm...yeah I think it would be a fair assumption that you probably remember more than you realize, especially pieces you played the most, or that meant the most to you."

I realize the position I have put her in. I don't know why I didn't consider the possibility that she may be too shy to play in front of me. I guess I was just so used to seeing her be completely herself around me.

"Y-you know you r-really don't have to. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured. If you want we can just..." I feel my confidence fade as I pull at my fingers. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, afraid to face the reality of rejection if I dare to look up. That's before I feel a soft touch on my arm. I look up to see her soft smile and the twinkle that has returned to her eyes. That's all it takes to break down any insecurities building up like walls within me.

"Spencer, I would love to." She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. "Just give me a minute to do some boring. cheesy scales and stuff. It's been so long. I don't think I can jump in without some kind of warm up."

I turn on my heels and begin to walk off the stage, headed to my seat. I glance over my shoulder to see her propping up the lid and sitting to adjust her dress on the bench. She makes sure to get acquainted with the pedals in her heels. I smile at how happy she looks, how comfortable to be at a piano once again. It doesn't take a profiler to see how much it meant to her. I know I've made the right choice for tonight.

I settle in a seat as she finishes warming up. I can tell she's nervous as she lets out a few deep breaths, vigorously shaking her hands to try to rid them of any tremors that threaten to intrude on her performance. She takes in one last deep breath as she glances over towards me. I give her a smile and thumbs up. She laughs in response, seemingly less nervous. I'm glad I could help her in some capacity, if even for a moment.

https://youtu.be/x5ibvz38jOs

As she places her hands down, she begins to play a soft, lullaby like melody. I see the tension begin to fade away as the song picks up and she gains more confidence. It took me a moment to recognize the song, only because I had been so focused on her. It's a beautiful theme from the Deathly Hallows. How perfectly fitting, seeing as our movie nights brought us so close together.

After a minute or so, her demeanor changes along with the music. It's deeper, darker. Her face becomes more serious as I watch her pour all of herself into the music. I start to feel something, assuming it comes from the bass-like boom of the grand piano as it stretches to fill every crevice of the elaborate theater. My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes start to water. I rub at them, confused by my reaction. I'm sure there's all kinds of dust that's been stirred up.

I continue to watch her, completely mesmerized the way such dainty hands can play with such strength, such emotion. A memory quickly flashes through my mind.

"Music is so much more than just notes, Spencer. It can make you feels things you've never felt, understand your own emotions, or express them."

I had simply taken the comment as something that described her, and how she felt. For the first time I really feel the music resonate with me on an emotional level. I feel wonder and sorrow and enchantment all at once. Is this what she experiences on a regular basis? Is this why she's always listening to music, or talking about it? It's incredible to see the passion she has overflowing so effortlessly into the music.

I had planned this part of the date in an attempt to see her happy, but also to try to understand her in a new way. I never expected to learn or feel this much. She's so much more complex than I could ever fully understand, but I want to try to learn as much about her as I can.

The song quickly changes to another melody I recognize from the movies. I can practically hear the emotion in ever chord. How does she do that?

Before I know it, I'm standing on the stage behind her, unsure of how I got there. She doesn't seem to notice. She is pouring every ounce of herself into the keys.

I take a few steps closer just to be able to observe her hands. As the song slows, I notice her eyes are closed. She's not even looking at the keys anymore as she continues to the end.

She takes a deep breath in and opens her eyes. She looks out to meet my eyes but is met with a seemingly empty room. Anxiety and fear that I have left fill her eyes before I step closer, sliding onto the bench.

"Oh! You scared me for a second" she laughs. "Well, there ya go. I don't know it as well as I used to and there were definitely plenty of mistakes." Her confidence from only a minute ago starts to leak out with every self-criticism.

"Y/N stop." I reach up to turn her face toward me so that she has to look me in the eyes. I want her to see the truth and sincerity in them.

"That was...beautiful." I run my thumb over her cheek, enjoying the softness of her skin, the way she leans into my touch. "You're beautiful." I feel butterflies erupt into a flutter in my stomach at my sudden confession.

Her eyes dart down for only a moment before I see her nerves return. I decide to take a leap of faith as I slide my hand to the back of her neck, locking my fingers in her soft waves. I wait for just a moment, to read her response.

She leans in, resting her forehead against mine, not breaking eye contact. She looks into my eyes like they have the answers to the universe. She leans in just a bit more, nuzzling her nose against mine as her eyes flutter shut. She lets out a breathy giggle and I can't help but smile, laughing with her. There is something unbelievably beautiful about this moment, the racing of our hearts, the shared breath, the softness of her touch. I want to do more than just commit it to memory, like anything else in my life. I want to savor it, the sound of her laugh, the smell of her perfume, the feeling she gives me.

Unable to hold back any longer, I pull her in, kissing her gently, careful not to push her any further than she's comfortable with. She seems to have ideas of her own, placing her hands on the back of my head to pull my much deeper into the kiss. I lose all track of time and my surroundings, completely entranced by her touch.

She finally pulls back, looking at me as though I'm her favorite person in the world. "I hope this isn't a bad time to tell you... I'm crazy about you" she finally says, holding back a smirk.

I burst out in laughter. "Goofball" I jest, pulling her in for another quick kiss. "I almost forgot, I uhh...well I have something I learned for tonight."

"Spencer Reid, you learned a piece just for me?" she stands up to give me space to play.

"You don't have to go, if you don't want to." I try to hide the completely pathetic look I know is on my face. But I didn't want her to leave my side. Being with her is the comfort I need to get through this without my extra nerves.

She can see the neediness in my eyes. Based on the smile on her face as she sits back down, wrapping her arm around my waist, and I don't think she minds.

As my hands start to play the notes I had spent a few weeks learning, I look over to see her eyes light up at the sound of Where Is My Mind. I can't help but smile, proud of my success in bringing her joy.

The song is simple, not nearly as complex as what she had just performed for me, but that wasn't the point. Based on the look on her face, I can tell she remembers and that it means something to her too.

When I finally finish, I look over to see her wiping her eyes. "You remembered" she says quietly through a few sniffles.

"Of course I remembered." I turn my body on the bench to face her properly.

"Y/N, I asked you here tonight because I think it's time I showed you just how much you mean to me. This isn't new. This isn't sudden. I'm nothing if not extremely analytical and thorough."

She lets out a small laugh through tears now trickling down her face. I would be worried if it wasn't for the pure smile of joy she is unable to hold back.

"So believe me when I say I have thought about this for a long time. Pretty much since that very day." I know I don't have to elaborate; she already knows exactly when I am talking about.

"Y/N I love spending time with you and getting to know more about you each day, but I would be kidding myself if I pretended that I only wanted friendship with you any longer. I hope I'm not being too forward, and I apologize for setting this all up and asking you without any warning. I know I probably put you on the spot to join me on this date but..."

My spiral into self-doubt is cut short by the feeling of her lips on mine. I feel myself melting into her once again, worried I may never want to come back for air.

She eventually pulls back opening her mouth to respond to what I feel was quite an embarrassing display of my emotions.

"Spencer, I have been trying to figure out my feelings for you for so long. I had just been working up the courage to say something to you, but it seems you had plans of your own. This is more than I could ever..."

Tears fill her eyes once more, spilling over as she starts to turn her head away.

I scoot in to wrap her in my embrace. "Hey, hey its ok, shhhh." I rub my hand across her back, hoping to sooth her. After a few deep breaths she finds her words once again.

"This is more than I could ever ask for, ever dream of. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. No man has ever...cared this much about something I love. In so many past relationships I felt as though they were merely tolerating my quirks, including all the things I am so overtly passionate about. Tolerating me until they just...left. All I've ever wanted was someone to appreciate how passionate I can be and won't let it scare them away. Someone to stay."

I feel my heartache knowing that she has felt this way for so long. I lift her chin as I lean in to give her one gentle kiss before pulling away to whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: I hope everyone is still enjoying the story! Let me know your thoughts in the comments 😁💖

Also sorry for how gushy this is but it won't always be that way so enjoy it while it lasts 🙊

[thecaptainbriarrose]

Next Generation: Stronger Than Us

Read on Ao3

Summary:  Aiya Todoroki, daughter of Shoto and Momo Todoroki, and Hironori Bakugo, son of Katsuki and Eijirou Bakugo, are the top of their class. With their strong reputations, no one is surprised that they are going face-to-face in the UA Sports Festival final. With the known rivalry between their fathers, tension is high for everyone but things don't go... quite as they expected.

Chapter 1

This year is mine, Aiya thought. It was no surprise that the children of two of the most popular heroes were facing off in UA’s sports festival for the third year in a row. The final battle of the sports festival was less than ten minutes away. The number one spot was, once again, within reach for both of them. 

Hironori Bakugo, the son of pro heroes DynaMight and Red Riot. A strong headed young man who was blessed with the explosive quirk of his father. His spiked black hair matched his explosive personality.

Aiya Todoroki, daughter of Shoto and Momo Todoroki, both are also pro heroes. Aiya has a quirk similar to the one her father has. Half hot, half cold but fire comes from the top part of her body and ice from the bottom.

Both are strong students and amazing aspiring heroes. With plenty of experience behind them, they are a couple of heroes that many in this society like to keep their eye on.

This wasn’t the first time the two of them would face off. Their first year they were the top two. Aiya came out on top after a very close fight. Their second year they faced each other in the top four. Hironori came out on top in an even closer battle and went on to win the tournament.

And here they were again. Final two, one battle left, the whole world would be watching. Aiya took a deep breath and opened the door of the break room and stepped out into the hallway. She noticed a figure standing at the end of the corridor even though she had expected it to be empty.

“What are you doing here?“ Aiya said.

“Isn’t it obvious?” The young man said somewhat angrily. “I’m here to wish you good luck, hot head. Am I not able to do that?” He began to smile and suppress a small laugh. “I’ll be here to console you when you lose too.”

“Oh, so you think you’re gonna win huh.” At this point Aiya had made her way over to Hironori. “That’s cute.”

“ Don’t call me cute!” Hironori replied, trying to hide his smile.

“Oh come on cutie. You know you like it.”

At this point, the two were within inches of each other. Hironori grabbed Aiya’s hand as he smiled and looked into her piercingly blue eyes.

“I want to punch and kiss that ridiculously adorable grin off your face.”

“If I win I’ll let you.”

Hironori took a quick look around to make sure no one was watching and then laid a kiss on her forehead.

“You better go. We only have a few minutes before we need to go out there.”

“I’m gonna beat your a**!” Hironori yelled as he ran down the hall and around the corner.

Aiya leaned against the wall as she sighed.

“Well. I never would have guessed.”

Aiya froze as the words hit her. Her eyes became large as she hesitated to turn around. She recognized that voice, it had to be-

“You know,” Deku, aka Izuku Midoria, said as he walked calmly towards her, “I watch my students closely but that,” He paused, “that surprised me.”

Deku was a teacher at UA. He had taught one semester every year for the last three or four years or so. He specializes in combat training but often gives other small lessons here or there.

“Mr Midoria, um…” Aiya needed to say something, but the words weren’t coming.

Deku smiled. “Who knows?” He asked as a inquisitive grin spread over his face.

“No one. We’re…” Aiya hesitated. Should she even be telling him this? “We’re mostly worried about what his father would think.”

Deku’s smile faded a little. “I’ve known Kachan for a long time so I can understand why you may be hesitant.” Kachan? Aiya thought He must mean Katsuki Bakugo. She remembered Hironori telling her about how his father and Midoria had been childhood friends, well sort of. Kachan was what Midoria called Katsuki.

Deku took a deep breath and his smile grew back to where it usually was. He looked down the hallway to where Hironori had run. “However, he really cares about his kid. It might take some time but I think he would grow to understand. In the meantime,” Deku looked back at Aiya and put his hand on her shoulder, “Your secret is safe with me!”

Something about his smile reminded her of an old hero she’d seen videos of, All Might.

“Anyways,” he stood up straight and turned to walk away. “The real reason I’m here is to wish you luck.” He smiled, looked back at her and gave her a big thumbs up. ”I'm rooting for you!” After that he walked around the corner and out of sight.

Welp, Aiya thought, Hironori isn’t going to be happy about that. That was something she would have to worry about later. Right now she had a fight to win.

Aiya walked down the hall and up a flight of stairs where she waited to enter the arena. This is it, she thought, you can do this. The butterflies rose in her stomach as she thought about what was in front of her. No. I don’t have time for that. I have a good plan. I can win this. She gathered her long, bright red hair which faded to white at the ends and pulled it into a ponytail so it would be out of the way. She knew this fight wasn’t going to be easy but she was ready.

Aiya heard the crowd cheer as the announcer loudly yelled, “And now! The moment you’ve all been waiting for! Let's bring out our final competitors!” Aiya stepped into the arena to a bright spotlight and a deafening round of applause. 

It was dark outside. Some of the battles, and the clean up after, had lasted longer then expected but the crowd was still as loud and supportive as they had been all day.

The announcer continued, “She’s the daughter of the current number three hero! You know her! You love her! Aiya Todoroki!” The crowd cheered and Aiya snapped her fingers to show off a little flame in both hands. The crowd cheered even louder.

The announcer went on, “And he’s the son of the current number two hero with the same quirk! Hironori Bakugo!” Hironori kept his hand in his pockets and looked directly at Aiya, giving a small smirk. Aiya wanted to roll her eyes but she knew the cameras were on both of them and the less attention their relationship had the better so she held it back.

Aiya stepped up onto the stage. She stepped over the white chalk line and into the arena. This year the one-on-one tournament was a simple anything goes battle, get your opponent out of the ring or KO them. This was something that UA did frequently and so it was no surprise to any of the students that this was the one-on-one this year. The only difference this year was that the platform would become smaller every couple minutes by about a meter.

There was a lot running through Aiya’s mind but she knew one thing, she could win this.

“Ready to die?” Hironori yelled.

“You couldn’t kill me if you tried!” Aiya shouted back.

“And now!” The announcer began,and crowd began to cheer louder. “Are you ready?!?” Even though it was hard to see the crowd you could hear many fans begin to stand. “SET!” Hirinori grinned and moved to a ready position as Aiya did the same.

“G-”

The lights shut off. The monitors went black. Aiya stood up strait in the darkness.

A circle of light appeared under Aiya’s feet and she felt herself begin to fall. She immediately grabbed the stage and frantically tried to get a good grip on anything to catch herself. She had just enough time to see that the same thing was happening to Hironori. He had managed to climb mostly out of the circle and was just beginning to regain his balance when the glowing circle increased dramatically in size and he fell, what looked to be, straight down and then the hole closed. As this was happening, she could hear the crowds confused and frantic reactions followed by a couple of screams. This wasn’t right.

Aiya felt something, or someone grab her ankle. She immediately let out a burst of ice and froze whatever was around her ankle. Just as she was getting free, the circle grew larger, just like the one around Hironori had, and she fell.

She hit what felt like concrete and frantically looked around, finding that she could hardly see anything. Someone from behind her quickly wrapped a cloth around her face. Aiya let out a scream and began to exhale fire, quickly igniting the cloth and whatever foul smelling substance was on it.

“D**n it!” Aiya could hear Hironori but it wasn’t close. When he ignited his quirk she could see that they were in some kind of warehouse. Aiya was able to quickly get to her feet and created a wall of ice around herself, giving her a moment to think. What is going on, she thought, there has to be a way to get out of this.

Before she could do anything, the ice wall that Aiya had built disappeared. She quickly blasted fire directly behind her and she was able to see at least two figures behind her and one in front. The person in front of her reached for her neck. Are they trying to kill us? She was able to bairly dodge. Someone behind her grabbed her ponytail and she was pulled to the ground. With the wind having been knocked out of her, Aiya struggled to move but was able to release just enough fire to see the people around her. Six, no seven. Maybe eight. She was strong and could easily take eight people at once but she didn’t know who they were. Some of them looked slightly familiar but without a good look she had no idea. Without knowing what quirks each of them had it would be nearly impossible to win but she could try.

Aiya started to formulate a plan, the best she could between dodges, and jumped to her feet. She grabbed the arm of someone who attempted to grab her and threw them to the ground. Based on the sound they made it was probably a man.

She reached around just in time to grab a pipe that was being swung at the back of her head. She grabbed the pipe and threw it as far away as she could but before she had time to take another step she was hit from behind and dropped to the floor as everything went black.

***

Aiya’s eyelids felt like bricks. Lifting them was far too much work but as she remembered what had happened she forced them to open.

The first thing she saw was Hironori. He was attempting to make a shushing motion but his hands were chained in large, mitten-like, metal cuffs. It was at this point that she realized that she was also chained but, unlike Hironori, her feet were also being held together in large metal boots. The cuffs on her hands and feet were held together with a chain that couldn’t have been more than a foot and a half long. Aiya was curled up on the concrete floor in an extremely uncomfortable position with her hands and feet behind her back. She could feel her legs begin to cramp but there wasn’t much she could do about that at the moment.

“... and then we’ll be all set.”

Aiya’s ears began to adjust and she began to hear the conversation coming from the lighted part of the room. She wasn’t able to turn, because her chains would create too much noise, but she watched Hironori’s reactions as the conversation continued.

“Since we’re ready let’s do it now. I want to see blood hit the floor.” A younger, yet sinister sounding figure said. It sounded like a young man, probably in his early 20’s.

“Just killing the kids isn’t going to prove our point. They’ll just hunt us down for murder and a few pros will be down a couple of kids. We have to think about how to really hurt society.” This was a voice that was much older with a raspy tone. Also a man.

Aiya’s eyes grew wide as what was said began to set in. They’re going to kill us. She thought as she continued to stare at Hironori.

He didn’t look scared, he looked angry, but she knew him well enough to know that he was frightened. He was smart enough to know we had to work out the most logical plan with the highest chance of success so she also knew that he wouldn’t act recklessly.

The conversation began to die down and Aiya heard the group begin to walk away. They must’ve walked out of sight because Hironori turned to face her. 

He moved as quietly as he could to get closer to her and whispered, “The main door is on the other side of this wall.” He motioned backwards with his head. Aiya was just now realizing how beat up he looked. There were bruises all over his body and his clothing had been torn. There was a little bit of swelling on his left cheek as well but it looked like an older injury. “It seems to be one of those older, large, sliding metal doors. It must be really heavy because it sounds like they always have at least two people opening it. And it seems to be the only point of entry or exit. There may be windows somewhere but nothing nearby.”

It was obvious he was trying to hide it but Hironori was shaking. His jacket that he had been wearing during the sports festival was gone.

“It’s to cold for you in here isn’t it.”

He didn’t look at her. She knew he didn’t like admitting any kind of weakness.

“I can’t sweat, so there’s no way I can get these d**n cuffs off on my own.” He seemed frustrated.

“My hands aren’t going anywhere either. There’s no way I can create enough force or heat to remove them but these boots on my feet, they may be thin enough to freeze and shatter but it would involve an incredible amount of force and would likely break several bones in my feet making any kind of escape difficult.”

Hironori looked at their surroundings. He was likely thinking the same thing she was.

“We may have to wait for a rescue.”

Hironori was not the kind to admit defeat, so him saying this out loud was surprising to Aiya. They could possibly stand their ground if necessary but the quirks that these people possessed were a mystery to Aiya and though Hironori had likely seen many of their kidnappers, he probably didn’t know many of their quirks either.

“It’s odd they don’t have someone watching us. Some things about all of this seem well thought out but others seem amateur.” Aiya began to think about how strange the situation was.

“I’m only familiar with the quirks of a couple of the villains that I have seen. These people, they know what they’re doing, they likely just don’t have enough experience and probably underestimate us.”

“Maybe a little.” The booming voice startled both of them. “But I’m sure you’ve realized by now that there’s really no chance of escape.”

Aiya could hardly move as is but seeing this figure in front of her caused her whole body to freeze. She could hardly breathe as memories of a long-from-forgotten summer camp came flooding back. This man… this thing, had nearly killed both of them that day.

“It will all be over soon.” He continued. “We’re just simply waiting for the right time. The time when their hopes are high yet, little will they know, that their chances of success will be very little.”

They? Who is he talking about? Did they do all this just to get after-

The man's orange complexion darkened as he stepped out of the light and farther into their little enclosed corner.

“Now listen carefully.” He bent down so he was eye to eye with both of them. “You’re not going to survive this. No matter how desperate or frightened you are, you will not make it out alive.” He grabbed Aiya by the collar of her jacket. “So say your goodbyes before we have to put you back to sleep.”

He threw Aiya towards Hironori and Hironori did his best to catch her. The man gave a terrifying grin with his rotting deep blue teeth and left.

Aiya felt like crying as she rested her head on Hironori’s chest.

“He was talking about our parents, wasn’t he.” Hironori said this more like a statement than a question.

“Probably more than just them.” Our teachers, our friends who are also aspiring heroes, anyone who has ever admired our strength and courage. “You have to give them credit though. I’ve read the articles, I’m sure you have too. The two of us, we rival the top heroes. Our quirks are stronger than our parents even though they don’t want to admit it. Many people know and believe this which is likely why these villains have chosen to go after us. Taking us will destroy much of the hope that has been built up in this society since All Mights retirement.”

Hironori kissed the top of her head and then rested his chin on it. “That’s exactly why we have to win. The odds are stacked against us, I know that, but we have to wait for the right moment and show the world that we will pull through this,” he did his best to push her slightly away and tilt her head up so he could see her flaming blue eyes, “together.”

They sat there for several minutes without saying a word. It felt like hours but at the same time it felt like only a few moments. They were going to be okay, they had far to many people who cared for them, far to many who were counting on them. Yet, in that moment, their minds felt foggy and their abilities unfamiliar. The one thing they both knew for sure was what they would give to save the other. They would give everything.

“I hate to break up this adorable reunion but unfortunately I need you both unconscious for this next part in order for it to go smoothly.” This was not the same man as before but he was familiar to both of them, just in a different way.

“It’s you.” Hironori stated calmly. Aiya sat up.

“Whatever do you mean?” The man replied, tightening his bright yellow tie. The man was dressed very nicely just like he was in many of his pictures. His deep blue suit and nice shoes were obviously the best money could buy in this area and he obviously had no business getting his hands dirty.

“You’re the one their talking about,” Hironori continued, “whose victims were all found in back alleys. Their bodies seemed old and decayed as if they’d been laying there for twenty years yet they didn’t have any injuries. No stab wounds, no fractured bones. Keiichi Matsumura. ”

“Ah yes that, well there’s only so much you can hide from the media.” Matsumura took out an arousal can and held it towards their faces. “Now, just relax for me.”

Hironori jumped to his feet and kicked the can out of his hands. 

“I was really hoping you would allow this to be easy. You should have learned by now.” Matsumura continued. “Oh well.” He snapped his fingers and several people came around the corner, many of which looked familiar. They were likely thugs that had committed crimes here and there, just enough to get a little media coverage but not enough to have an impact.

Aiya quickly tried to stand but she had forgotten that her metal cuffs and boots had been chained together. Someone came and pushed her to the ground and stood on her chest. Her eyes started to water as a pain surged through her back. She instinctively looked at Hironori as if to ask for his help but he was struggling to hold his own against four of the thugs.

As the man standing over Aiya held up an aerosol canister, similar to the one before, Aiya turned to see Matsumura. All she could see was the smug grin on his face as the foul smelling substance from the canister entered her lungs and her eyelids fluttered shut.

[variousarts1234]

The Origins of SCP 049

Exactly what it says on the tin. I hope you all enjoy.

He was my first assignment- SCP 049, the deranged, non-human witch doctor who had slaughtered three of my coworkers. I didn’t know whether to be terrified or grateful. As frightening a beast as he was, this was, after all, just an interview- that had to be better than being assigned care of the more animalistic creatures that our facility held. Once I saw the several inches of bullet-proof glass we’d be separated by and the radios we’d be communicating through, I relaxed more completely.

It was a few minutes before he was brought in- a sentient plague doctor getup housing a lifeless skeleton with no soft tissues of which to speak. It sat in the chair provided for him in the padded room, and its gloved hand poked at the microphone.

“Hello?”

I read off my prepared speech. “Hello. SCP 049, it’s time for the games to end. You’re an intelligent person, and we can all tell that, and yet you continue to provide us with only the vaguest of answers. Simply put, give us clear, coherent answers to our questions, and we will grant you a live human to study for each hour of useful information you give us.” Whether this was true or not was classified, and honestly, given the number of people slaughtered for the foundation’s experiments as-was, it would hardly surprise me if it were. I would probably never know myself.

The creature cocked its head. “How do I know that this isn’t a pack of lies?”

“You don’t,” I answered, “but you have nothing to lose. And if we can’t win you over with favours, we’ll have to begin with punishments.”

The doctor leaned back in his chair, apparently relaxed as he pondered this.

“Fine. I’ll answer all the tedious questions you’ve always asked. And we shall begin with my beginnings.”

---

“A Pacific Island is where my story begins- although I’ll warn you that it jumps around quite a bit at first. I was born from the wife of a great medicine man, who was raising me to replace him when he died. Then one day, European travellers came and shipped me off in a crate.

“Thankfully, I escaped them once they unloaded my crate on the mainland. They chased after me, yes, but I ran to a forest and lost them by running through thick trees. They were too big to chase after me, you see. And I came upon a coven of witches. I was with them for six years, learning magic under them, before they kicked me out for atrocities against God.”

“What were you banished for?” I asked.

The creature appeared to ponder that. “I don’t know. I was doing all sorts of things that sat outside their rules, see? I don’t know what they found, but it probably wasn’t a third of what I’d been hiding. Anyhow, they allowed me to pack up my things, and soon I, at the age of fifteen, was wandering through the nearby town, possessing nothing but what I could carry on my back. I took a job under a priest in exchange for food and a place to sleep. Part of the priest’s job was to heal, and so I learned a few things under him. That’s the only good I have to say about him. I knew more than him, and he was set in his ways. People died because he wouldn’t let me use my witchcraft and Islander techniques. So, I studied at a seminary, and became a priest myself. The same night I came home, he named me his successor, and that very same night, I drove a knife through his heart. It had had to be done.

“My church became well-known for its healing prowess. Peasants came with their demonic possessions, and I could cure them without trephination but with only a bath in lavender water. Knights came with their infected wounds, and I could purge the poisons with potions made of metallic salts ground fine and mixed into milk. And I went on like that for several years.

“Then, one day, the king of Astbury- the kingdom of which I inhabited- came to me with his teenage son- a prodigal squire who would have one day made a fine knight- who had been stabbed in the leg. The flesh around the wound was going necrotic, and so many other healers had told him that it required amputation if the boy were to live. These healers were right, of course, but I told them otherwise. I knew that it was my chance to move up in the world, and I planned on seizing it. I took their son into a private room, let him sleep, and poisoned him- just badly enough that he would be out dead for the night. Then, I measured him, and killed a beggar of the same length of leg. By morning, the body was burned, the prince had a new leg in place of the old, and I had the king’s eternal gratitude. They believed that I had healed his leg, and being that they were offering me to stay at the palace, I saw no need to correct them.

“The king had only intended to thank me with a feast, but I convinced him to allow me one other opportunity to show my healing prowess. You see, his wife’s moon blood had stopped flowing a few years ago, and the king would have welcomed more children. I promised him that I would have her overflowing with fertility within the month, and if I didn’t, they could leave me with nothing but the clothes on my back. At first the cures I administered to her were nothing but placebos- my only plan was to live the high life for a while, have the king finance my research, and then go back to the humble life of a healer priest. What I wasn’t expecting was to actually find the cure. The queen’s moon blood retuned, and the king thanked me with a permanent position in his castle, a massive room in the basement for study, and a cut of the money I made from my healing abilities.

“What followed was the greatest period in my life! By day, there were people from all over the kingdom and from lands beyond, coming to me for cures for everything from leprosy to demonic possession to the effects of age- all new challenges to be met, conquered, and rewarded with tearful gratitude, newfound knowledge, and ample coin. By night, I ate the finest of food, drank the finest of wine, and slept on the finest silk. And I studied. My dungeon room gradually became full of experimental devices, potion reagents, and my test subjects. Yes, the king gave me whatever I wanted- including plenty of animals and the odd prisoner to experiment on. Life... was good.

“It went on like that for several decades before I reached the inevitable problem of age. Yes, up until then, there was only so much that even I could do to keep it at bay. But I had a plan, see- and one day, when I could feel the rain in my bones and was struggling to walk, even with my cane, I decided: it was time to put my greatest invention to the test.

“I had begun planning for this day years ago, including the training up of a successor. Her name was Eva. No last name- she had been a slave brought over from another realm, and had I not seen promise in her, she would have been a test subject in one of my experiments. I had treated her well, and had promised her that once I became immortal, she’d be next, and that once she was transformed, we’d both be seen as Gods and no one would see her as a slave anymore. How I wanted that. She was not yet grown, and I cared for her like a daughter.

“The process itself- well, you’ve seen a part of it, my fellow researcher, though I had constructed a machine to turn one’s innards out in just the right pattern, and now I have to do it by hand. Eva’s job was merely to start up the machine, and care for me while I was in my frail, in-between, mindless state. It’s a ten-year process, as I’m sure you’ve deducted by now.

“Wait, stop!” I called. There were several seconds of silence as I attempted to absorb what he’d said. “Those researchers you- you cured- you were-”

“Oh no, they’re dead, now. Those creatures needed proper care to become immortal, and you locked them up separate from me. Unless... the researchers of this foundation have been treating them.”

“Yes, we are,” I answered nervously. It would probably be easier to extract information from the doctor if he thought highly of our competence.

“Marvelous! On with the story, then.”

“After the machine had cleaved open my skull and rib cage, and my organs had been hung in the right places of my body, I was completely braindead for quite some time. I knew this would happen, as I’d done it to several animals in the past, and it had worked on both hound and hog. Eva kept me fed, kept my organs clean and properly positioned, polished my bones, and set me to bleed out at the proper time. I remember a period- perhaps of a few days- where I could recognize her again. She looked so much bigger and more womanly than I remembered. And then, the second stage began. A chitin that resembled a cape, immune to canons, poison, acid, age, and anything else one could name, began to grow over my organs, changing their shape and structure. I remembered nothing for several years. And then I emerged.

“My dungeon was not being kept. The herbs were dead. The animals- those who were not immortal, were mere bones in their cages. I was so angry... so angry at Eva for letting it happen... I stormed out of the basement, looking for her. I found one of the king’s advisors and demanded her location. He... he hugged me, and told me that she was dead, and so was the king. That nearly a fifth of the kingdom was dead of a horrific necrotic disease...

“I couldn’t believe it... I went for a walk around the village square, and felt how empty it was when it was once so full of life... People did not come to me in hope and awe, but in desperation. And there was nothing I could do against the disease that they called the Black Plague.

“I had caused it. My cure, the one that I had applied to myself, also causes the skin to blister and blacken before it sloughs off, leaving only the organs to be packed into chitin. Clearly, I had offended God, and this was my punishment.

“I went to a church to help the plague victims- it was all that I could think to do. The high life in the palace- the life that I’d done this to prolong- no longer appealed to me.”

“Wait,” I interjected, “the black plague wasn’t your fault. We know now that it was carried by the fleas on rats from trading ships. It had nothing to do with you.”

The abomination shook its head. “You’re wrong. People will always find explanations for what they cannot explain. I know more forms of black magic... and their unintended consequences... when I see them.”

“Very well. Carry on.”

“As I was saying. I spent a few months experimenting on the dying. I even found a cure eventually. It made no difference- people died faster than I could cure them. I remember curing a mother of five once, only to see her catch it again and collapse dead while waiting in line to receive a second treatment.

“I confessed to the priest my suspicions that I might have caused the plague, and he told me that he appreciated me, but something had to be done to appease God and stop this disease.

“He, and several other villagers, nailed me to a tree at dawn. The priest gave a speech that he condemned my actions, and wished to cleanse the world of them. That he hoped that God would receive the message, and cease their punishment. And then he set the tree on fire.

“Flames licked me, but I did not burn. I pretended to merely be an empty shell, and eventually, once the tree was burned and I was laying on the ash-covered ground with nails still in my hands, they left me. I wandered the woods for days, knowing that I was no longer welcome in the village. I grew hungry but could not starve. Wolves gnawed on me at night, but could not pierce my skin. Eventually I made my way to a pier, and snuck onto a ship. I landed in the New World.

“I have lived almost everywhere in the world in my centuries, and everywhere I go, a pestilence is sure to follow. Smallpox, Spanish Flu, Malaria, Zika Virus... in making myself immortal, I have opened a Pandora’s Box... but it was worth it, for it made me realize the ultimate truth. Pestilence is inherent to man. The cure is in leaving behind human form. And so, I stopped feeling guilty, and I began to make it my life’s purpose to convince others to take the cure. Without it... the pestilence will rot you from the inside out. Every one of you. It is inevitable.

“My time at the foundation, though, has shaken that belief somewhat. You have so little of the pestilence here. I wonder what your secret is. I see some people around here with no pestilence at all! Though, you seem to be sporting an average amount of it.”

It was at this point of the interview that I took off my sweater. The doctor stared at my arms as though they were obscene. “What?” I asked.

“Pestilence,” he said. “It has just multiplied upon your body.”

That’s when it hit me. The people who had handled him had been exclusively wearing haz-mat suits or other heavy protective equipment. The researcher he’d transformed was the first one we’d allowed, due to the abomination’s seeming civility, to enter without protective equipment. And that had been what had set him off. The mere idea was insane, but then, so was he.

“You take away our flesh to make us immortal. And so to you, our flesh is the pestilence that will be the death of us all.”

[trashyswitch]

Cold-Hard Eyes, With a Soft Heart

It's Scott's very first night on the job. Though Scott remembers William to be cold-hearted and critical upon first impression, The Entertainment business's main mascot happily shows Scott Mr. Afton's true, soft colors.

I've felt a craving to write more FNAF fanfics for some reason. It's just been hitting me more and more, and I'm finally getting to it!

Also: This fanfic gets into some third-person experiences with Alzheimer's Disease. If you are sensitive to this topic, then click off and find something else to read. I have experienced watching such a thing, and it is sad. But, keeping yourself level-headed and your relative happy, is key to living with a relative with Alzheimer's Disease. Anyone else: I hope you enjoy this fan-fiction rollercoaster!

Scott pulled himself up to the front of the pizzeria, and let out a breath of nervousness as he held onto the car wheel. There was a second car in the parking lot, which told him there may have been a custodian in the pizzeria. Pulling down the mirror flap on the car ceiling, Scott looked in his mirror to make sure his hair was pinned up right. When his hair appeared to be in working order, Scott put the mirror flap back up and removed the key from his car. Opening the door, he hopped out of the car and closed it behind him. The car was a little run down, but it looked somewhat newer thanks to the car wash he got for it a few hours prior. So, Scott looked like an irresistible new worker. Checking to make sure he had everything, Scott felt his pockets and mentally cursed as he felt that his usually-filled pants pocket was empty. Scott opened up his car door again, and took a minute or two to look for his stainless steel flashlight. Finally finding it in the front seat cup holder, Scott slipped the handle around his wrist before closing the door and locking it with a semi-loud *Beep!*.

Scott walked into the pizzeria, and took a few moments to admire the sight that was in front of him. There was a few set up tables with dozens upon dozens of chairs, and a stage with the animatronic robots standing on them. Though the animatronics were often seen moving around and entertaining the kids, the animatronics were shut down from a long day of entertaining kids for their birthday. Scott walked closer to the stage, to look closer at the animatronics. They didn't look metal whatsoever. They almost looked mechanical in their outside anatomy, but the fur covering seemed to mess with Scott's head a little bit. The furry look on the animatronics made them look...cuddly.

Scott frowned as he inspected them. The animatronics were kind of creepy-looking when they weren't moving. They looked dead inside when they were shut down. It was very...nerve-wracking. It almost reminded him of the creepy amusement park characters. It was not nice-looking...Though, these guys seemed a little more...friendly looking. He couldn't tell if it was because of the animals they were based off of, the general design of them, or if it was because they actually had proper-looking eyes implanted into their face. He kind of wanted to touch them...just to feel what the fur-covered front was like...

"Ah! You must be the newbie night guard." someone said beside him.

Scott jumped and yelped in surprise. Scott placed a hand onto his chest to make sure his heart was still beating, and quickly attempted to gain back his composure.

"Yes...I am. Sorry. I'm a bit jumpy." Scott told him.

The shadowy figure came into view and revealed himself to be William Afton. "Don't mention it. Checking out our beauties of the company?" William asked.

Scott mentally winced at the word he used to describe the animatronics. "Uuuh...You could say that." Scott replied. "Would I be allowed to feel it?" Scott asked. William was taken back by the strange request. "I know it sounds weird, but the outer cover...it looks fuzzy. Is it?" Scott asked.

William walked closer and looked up at the Fazbear suit. "Yes, it is." William replied. Scott reached his arm out in front of him, and felt the top of the bear's foot out of curiousity. The foot WAS fuzzy! It was somewhat hard though. It felt like thick felt was wrapped around an electronic skeleton. It was strange...It felt foreign. "Whooooaaa...It's a little like felt. Is it felt?" Scott asked.

"Nope. It's sweatshirt fleece knit fabric." William replied.

Scott removed his hand and looked down at it. "Huh..." he hummed. When Scott looked up, William had gotten much closer to him. He was standing really close at eye level, examining him. Feeling uncomfortable very quickly, Scott attempted to back up a bit. Thankfully, William didn't take any more steps forward to make up for the distance. But, the man did narrow his eyes in suspicion. "...uuuuuhh..." Was all that came out of Scott's mouth.

William looked Scott up and down one last time. "You're too good-looking for a man with this kinda job." William said bluntly in a monotone voice.

Scott was taken back by the strange comment. Was...was it a compliment? Was it an insult? Was it a bit of both? Scott didn't really know how to react. So, as to not risk losing his opportunity, Scott took it as a compliment and smiled back. "Th-...Thank you." Scott replied politely.

"In a good way." William added in a monotone voice. "I could see you being a butler with a good complexion." William added, unintentionally slurring his speech a slight bit.

Scott chuckled at the last part. Then, Scott put on a British accent and held his right hand up on the side, to make it look like he was holding a tray. "Good morning sir. How may I help you?" Scott asked, being a little silly to try and get a reaction out of the stone cold man in front of him. William lifted his chin a small bit and raised an eyebrow in curiousity. "Perhaps I could interest you in a cuppa tea and a biscuit?" Scott asked, even going as far as to lift up his right pinky finger, to make fun of Britain's manners.

William didn't really react at first. But, his lips did perk up somewhat. He even showed his teeth for a couple seconds. Scott had managed to get a small smile on his face for a few minutes. It wasn't a laugh like he was hoping, but it was definitely an indication that Mr. Afton had a bit of a humorous side. If Scott knew him a lot better than he did, then he may have teased him about showing off even the slightest smile. But, this was their first time meeting each other.

Scott slowly lowered his hand down back to his side. "So...what are you doing here? I didn't expect to meet someone else here, besides the custodian." Scott asked.

William narrowed his eyes as he looked at Scott. He crossed his arms. "The custodian comes in the morning." William told him.

Scott opened his mouth to say something, but only let out a quiet "...oh." in reply. All Scott could think about, was how hard this person was to try and talk to. For a business man, he's not much of a people person...

"I was finishing up some repairs." William replied. "Freddy needed a couple parts tightened up." William explained.

Scott's lips perked up into a small smile. "Cool! Sounds fancy." Scott reacted.

"It is a little complicated. But Mr. Emily taught me how to do the simple repairs." William told him.

Scott smiled and looked up at The Freddy Fazbear suit. It was quite big compared to him. But, it reminded him of a big, chubby teddy bear. Cuddly and loving, with a bubbly personality. An animatronic capable of moving its head, opening and closing its mouth and eyes, capable of singing, capable of leaning forward, capable of winking, capable-

Wait...Did Freddy Fazbear just wink at him?

Scott blinked and dropped his smile for a moment. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he watched all of Freddy Fazbear's movements carefully.

"Scott? You're zoning out." William said. "I don't want you zoning out, especially while you're working." William warned him. Scott mostly ignored William's voice and continued to focus on Fazbear's movements. "Hellooooo?" William asked, waving his hand in front of Scott's face. Scott turned his head a little to the side, and looked at William out of the corner of his eye. "He just winked at me." Scott told him.

William lifted an eyebrow. He looked at Freddy Fazbear. "The animatronic winked at you?" William clarified.

Scott nodded. "Uh huh..." Scott replied, looking back up at Freddy Fazbear. Scott very carefully watched any slight bit of movement. At one point, the hand began spinning, bit by bit. Scott's eyes widened more and more by every twitchy spin motion. Scott pointed at the bear. "His hand! I-It's spinning! Look, Mr. Afton!" Scott said, growing more and more nervous by the second. William seemed unphased. He put his hands on his hips and leaned in a bit. "Is-is he on?" Scott asked.

William looked over at him with a 'really?' expression. "Yes, he's on. He's in resting mode, but he's never truly off unless we store him away for repair or storage." William told him.

Scott began to grow slightly angry. "He's MOVING! His arm is twitching! He WINKED at me!" Scott yelled.

William sighed and closed his eyes as he rubbed his nose. "Why...Why is it always the night guards?" William asked, before looking at Freddy Fazbear.

Freddy stopped his twitching completely, and made himself completely still. William grunted. "Okay, if you're gonna show yourself, you minus well stay consistent with your moving." William ordered, snapping his fingers at the Fazbear suit.

"Wait...you-you know he's moving?" Scott asked, struggling to believe his boss or his own eyes.

"Yup. He doesn't even twitch when he moves. That's just the Freddy persona he puts on when he's hesitant on whether to move or not." William replied.

Scott looked at the animatronic again, to see if it would move on its own again. Suddenly, its whole body started moving! All at once! The animatronic frowned as it looked to its right. "Mr. Afton! Why did you have to spoil it? Getting the night guards' reactions is my favorite part!" Freddy spoke, crossing his arms and pouting like a little kid.

Scott jumped back, pointed at the talking animatronic and shouted in horror and surprise! He walked himself a few steps backwards, and began yelping and whimpering instead of full-blown shouting. Scott, through his panic, dropped his arm and watched as Freddy Fazbear jumped off of the stage and ran up to the scared man. Fearing the worst, Scott closed his eyes and got himself mentally and physically ready for his own demise...

"CUDDLE TIME!" Freddy shouted, before picking up Scott and giving him a big hug. Scott's eyes widened as he felt his whole body get wrapped in metal and fuzz, and let out a low squeak as his lungs were quickly squeezed empty by Freddy Fazbear's arms.

"Ohokay...Um- Freddy..." Scott said as best he could, with what little air he could put into his lungs.

"Freddy, buddy? Let's be careful. This is Scott's first day. Let's...warm him up with your talking first. Then, when you get his permission, you can hug him and maybe cuddle him." William told him.

Freddy opened his eyes and slowly released the newbie. "Awww...Okay." Freddy replied, placing him down carefully. As soon as the newbie was dropped, Scott took in a large breath to make up for the lost air. While Scott was trying to continue existing, Freddy had started running up to William with his arms spread wide.

"That means it's YOUR TURN!" Freddy declared, picking up William and giving him a big, fat hug. William yelped at the sudden surprise hug, but slowly melted into the tight cuddle. Scott's eyes widened. The animatronic was...cuddly and loving? What are the chances?!

"Look at you! You're more cuddly and soft than usual! I can tell!" Freddy Fazbear commented, nuzzling his snout into William's face a little bit. William rolled his eyes, but smiled as his face was squished in a loving manner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" William asked.

"It means you want the cuddles!" Freddy replied. "And you want LOTS!" Freddy specified.

William lifted up his head and lowered his brows at him. "Since when?" William asked suspiciously, wanting to know what Freddy was even talking about.

"Since now!" Freddy replied. William lifted an eyebrow up, puzzled. Freddy gently let him go, spun him around to the front, and hugged William again from the back this time. William's eyes widened at the SECOND hug he was given, but allowed him to hug him. He even patted the top of Freddy's hand with his palm. After a few good minutes of hugging, Freddy smirked as an idea came to mind. "...And I know what else you want." Freddy teased.

William turned his head to the side, and attempted to look at him from an angle. "What?" William asked, genuinely curious as to what he was gonna do. Freddy lifted his chin off of William's shoulder, and moved his right hand from across the man, to William's right hip. William's eyes widened as everything clicked. William began yelping and attempting to squirm out of his grip. "Oooooh nononononono. NO. WAY. Let me go! I'm done with the hug now PLEASE letmego- LET ME GOOO! AAAAAH!" William ordered before pushing at Freddy's hands. Freddy's hand didn't move whatsoever, and only started squeezing his hip. William grunted in fear and fell into an endless swirl of frantic squirming. He did not want to be tickled. He did NOT! WANT to be TICKLED! ESPECIALLY, in front of the new guy!

Scott's fear quickly turned into curiousity as he watched the friendly chemistry between the robot and its co-creator. It was almost reminded Scott of Luke Skywalker and R2D2's friendship. He watched as William struggled, and ultimately failed to stop Freddy from tickling him. Finally, after about 5 minutes of squirming, William thought he had gotten the upper hand. William had Freddy's wrist in both of his hands.

"Finally! I've gotcha now!" William praised himself.

Freddy smirked as he eyed up his free left hand. "I don't think so!" Freddy sing-songed, before wiggling his left fingers under William's left armpit. William gasped and clenched his teeth as giggles threatened to leave his lungs. But, he wasn't going to let him. No way, no how! William attempted to shake Freddy's hand out, but only ended up opening his armpit just enough for Freddy to tickle MORE of his armpit! Scott watched eagerly as the stone cold man that he was talking to, slowly lost his composure right in front of him. If it were himself being tickled, it'd be another story. But since it was his tough and emotionless boss, Scott loved it!

Finally, William's lips spread apart to reveal an uncontrollable, toothy, wobbly smile. "Wow! Look at that beaming smile! This smile could brighten up an entire room! That is, if you actually give it a chance to show itself..." Freddy teased. To make things go a little quicker, Freddy turned his left hand so his palm was facing Will's middle, and began wiggling his fingers on the exposed side of the stomach. William tittered as he lost control of his lungs, and slowly lost his grip on Freddy's wrist. With a little wiggling, Freddy was able to get his hand free easily, and go right back to tickling his right hip.

William couldn't take it anymore. He had to breath! So, he finally broke. "PFFFFFTHAHAHAHAHAhahahaha! HAHAhahahahaha! Cuhuhuhut ihihihit ohohohohout!" William tittered, falling into somewhat softer, but bubbly giggles as the compressed laughter finally left his lungs.

Freddy gasped and cheered! "Yes! I did it! Keep it going, Will!" Freddy said, genuinely excited.

"PRAISE the LORD, he HAS A LAUGH!" Scott cheered excitedly, chuckling at his own reaction.

William pushed against Freddy's hands as much as his weak body could, and struggled as he giggled up a storm. "Scohohohohott! Hehehehehelp mehehehehe! Pleheheheheahase hehehehelp!" William yelled.

Scott smirked and giggled at him. "...Nah. I'm good." Scott replied, waving his hand to signal his refusal. William shot Scott a desperate face. In reply, Scott only shook his head with a smug smirk.

"Now, which ticklish spot is worse? The hips?" Freddy asked, before tickling both hips.

William shrieked and kicked his feet helplessly. "OHOHOHO GAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOHOHONONONOHOHOHOHOHO!" William yelled, hanging his head as he lost himself in his laughter.

"Ooooor the tummy?" Freddy asked, before scribbling his fingers all over William's stomach. William gasped super quickly and threw his head back.

"GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAHAHAHAHAT'S SOHOHO MUHUHUCH WOHOHOHOHOHORSE!" William shouted outwardly for the whole pizzeria to hear.

"Who's laughing?" Someone asked.

"I recognize that laugh!" another voice added.

"Is that William?" a third voice asked.

Scott widened his eyes as he began to hear the sound of metal footsteps coming towards him. Scott awkwardly turned himself around and was met by Bonnie, Foxy and Chica.

"Hi." Scott said.

"Hey look! It's a new night guard!" Chica reacted, elbowing Foxy's arm as he looked at Scott.

"Hi. I'm Scott." Scott introduced himself, still getting used to the idea of moving animatronics. "But, I'm not important right now...I think Mr. Afton is the main attraction at the moment." Scott said, pointing at William who was squirming around in Freddy's grasp. Bonnie had already walked over, and was giggling as he watched William get tickled by Freddy.

"Hi Bonnie! Foxy...Chica...Welcome to the tickle Trap! Here, we have a special contestant by the name of William Afton! This man, right here, is the most ticklish man you will ever meet on the planet of the earth!" Freddy declares.

"Hell yeah he is. I've managed to nearly kill him with giggles, without even needing to touch him!" Chica added.

Scott covered his mouth as he giggled at the cuteness of that. "Awww! That's adorable!" Scott reacted, treating William's brand new mannerism like a newborn puppy.

"So this is how this trap works: I hug him," Freddy explained, pausing his tickling and pulling him into another tight cuddle. "I get him all comfy, maybe even nuzzle my nose into his neck," Freddy explained, shoving his bear nose into the side of William's neck. William fell into a small fit of giggles from the nose, and the teases effecting him all in one. "And then I tickle him!" Freddy concluded, tickling his fingers all over William's belly. William's giggles exploded into loud, strong laughter. "GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHO! NOHOHOHO BEHEHELLYHYHYHYHYHYHY!" William pleaded, his voice ending up higher-pitched near the end.

Scott, along with the other animatronics, giggled as they watched the silliness unfold. It was very interesting to see a man with a tough wall built up around him, to just crumble to the teasing and the childhood bonding that comes with tickling.

"The best part is that he enjoys this! He loves the attention." Foxy tells him.

Scott gasped and looked at him. "Really?!" Scott reacted.

"Yeah! If you look really closely, you'll be able to notice how much he's enjoying it. If he wasn't enjoying the attention, William would've fought harder, gotten out of Freddy's grip a lot earlier and would've probably threatened us with shut-down. But...He doesn't wanna stop Freddy." Foxy tells him.

Scott looks back at William as he hears William's laughter die down. Freddy was holding onto him under his armpits, while William fell limp into his arms. "You okay William? I didn't take it too far, did I?" Freddy asked.

William lifted up his forearm and gave the 5-people audience a 'give me a second' signal. When he gained back more of his breath, William smiled uncontrollably as he breathed. "Ihi'm...okay *huff* This is *huff* Great. *huff* comfyyyy." William replied, giving Scott the 'Okay' sign and going limp.

Freddy smiled and calmly placed William down onto the ground. When William was comfortable enough, Freddy got back up and looked at Scott. "How do you feel now?" Freddy asked.

Scott placed a finger on his chin as he hummed in thought. Scott's lips slowly perked into a smile when he decided how he thought. "I think this is cool. moving, communicating animatronics? A huge robot teddy bear that hugs you? Count me in!" Scott replied. Foxy, Bonnie and Chica smiled and reacted to the nice reaction. Freddy Fazbear was smiling widely, and trying not to jump around and scream like a toddler, in front of the newbie. Scott giggled at the clear amount of restraint Freddy was using on himself to not turn into a gigantic toddler in a matter of seconds. But, Scott could handle it. William was practically dead on the floor, so he'd have to handle it whether he liked it or not.

"So hugs?" Freddy asked, opening his arms.

Scott gave Freddy a toothy, excited smile. "Definitely hugs!" Scott replied. Scott looked at Freddy's arms, and immediately sensed what Freddy wanted. "Do you want a hug now?" Scott asked.

"I mean, if you're comfortable with it, then absolutely! Freddy's welcoming you with open arms!" Freddy replied. Still spreading his arms, Freddy kneeled down on one knee so he was a bit shorter for the shorter-statured man. Scott giggled as he ran up to the bear and wrapped his arms right around the huge bear. Freddy happily wrapped his own arms around him, and stood back up with the human in his arms. Thankful for the human's quick warm up to him, Freddy gave him lighter squeezes that didn't squeeze the air out of his lungs. Rather, Freddy slightly squeezed the man so that little giggles left his lungs. Scott could still breath enough to let in more air after he giggled as well! I guess Freddy had developed some kind of concept of how fragile and needy the human functions are.

William sat himself up and smiled at the sight. It's honestly incredible how quickly Scott was able to warm up to the robot bear. Perhaps exploiting his weak spots and his laughter somewhat helped in the process? William wasn't sure. But, he sensed the possibility.

"EEEEEEK! Freheheheheddyhyhy! Yohohohohou're tihihihicklihihing mehehehe!" Scott giggled as his neck was tickled with Freddy's nose.

"You have a ticklish neck too!" Freddy declared. Scott nodded his head amidst his giggly mood. Then, Freddy decided to start early with the tickles. "Are you ticklish anywhere else?" Freddy asked. Freddy started wiggling his fingers on the sides for a second, to test the waters.

"EEEEEP!" Scott squealed! He covered his mouth almost immediately after the sound left his lips. Freddy dug his fingers further into his sides. "EEEEEhehehehehehehe! Tihihihickleehehehehehehehehe!" Scott bursted, falling into high-pitched, cute giggles.

William's face slowly developed a pink, light blush. That was the man's laugh? It was so innocent! So cute! So...bubbly! William began to lose control of his lips as they perked up into a wobbly smile from the cuteness overload. It was almost too much for him to handle!

I think it was also too much for the other animatronics to handle as well!

Foxy quickly ran up to Scott and Freddy, and began cooing! "Awww! That giggle is so adorable, I could burst!" Foxy cooed.

Chica was giggling as well as he walked up next. "Awwww! Is someone a widdle tickwish? Is someone too tickle-tickle-ticklish for their own good?" Chica teased, wiggling a finger on his belly to test out the spot.

Scott bursted into actual human laughter, and began attempting to push away Chica's itchy finger. "NAAAAHAHAAAAH! CHIHIHIHICAHAHAHA! NAHAHAT YOHOHOHOU TOOHOHOHO!" Scott begged.

Bonnie walked up to Scott and Freddy last. "You know what? I think this is all you need to get a job at a pizzeria with us: A loving heart and very ticklish nerves!" Bonnie added.

William chuckled. "Maybe to you guys...But it's the bosses that discuss...the daily night-guards." William told him.

Freddy gasped, paused his tickling and waved away Chica's finger before spinning towards William with Scott in his hand. "Can you hire him?" Freddy asked. William lifted both eyebrows up in surprise.

"Pleeeeeeeeaaaaase?" Chica begged.

Scott's entire face was a little red from the tickling, but his cheeks were the most red out of his entire face! The animatronics were really making him blush! And he really didn't know how to handle it.

William lowered his eyes back down and stood up onto his feet. William kept his eyes on Scott as he walked himself up to the man.

"Uuuuhh..." Was all Scott said as he watched William's face get closer and closer. When William's body got as close as it could, William leaned himself in a bit to make up the difference. Scott widened his eyes, and awkwardly looked to his left and his right before looking back at Mr. Afton. Suddenly, William's facial expression softened into a smile. he looked down at Scott's tummy with a smile, and lifted up a finger. Reaching it down towards the new night-guard's tummy, William ignored the wobbly smile and the nervous giggles that left Scott's mouth and focused on poking his tummy with his index finger.

"AAhahahaha! Mr. Afton, wahahahait! Whyhyhy yohohou too? Ihihi dohohon't gehEHEHEhehet ihihihit!" Scott asked, his laughter heightening in volume when William wiggled his poking finger on the man's stomach.

William shrugged his shoulders before retreating his finger. Looking at the man with a genuine smile, William pointed his finger calmly at Freddy. "Can you please put him down?" William asked kindly.

Freddy nodded and let him go, placing Scott onto his feet. When Scott turned himself to look at his potential boss, William's smile got wider as he held out his hand for a shake. "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, Scott." William told him. Scott gasped and eagerly shook his hand. "Call me William." the boss said with a wink.

Scott nodded his head and let go of his hand with excitement spreading through his body. "I will!" I certainly will!" Scott said excitedly.

William's smile remained for a good 5 minutes or so, before disappearing behind the invisible walls of his outer, emotionless self. But, Scott understood it. He didn't feel a need to kick William out of the emotionless void he created for himself. What mattered to Scott was that it's his bosses way of coping, and that he can get him out of it.

Scott ended up getting an extra training day that night. He got to learn how each camera worked, what cameras showed him which rooms, and where his emergency exits were in case of emergency. Though there were day shifts that Scott would need to take, Scott mostly took the night shifts while someone else took the day shifts. Though Scott never really figured out who the day time security guard was, Scott became somewhat close to William as time went on. Scott got to know William from lots of repair visits, and Scott would update William on how the animatronics are doing.

During the night shifts, Scott started out just remaining in the security room. But as time went on, Scott would get visited by the animatronics at least once per day, and would grow to love the animatronics like close friends. When Scott was feeling a little down, Freddy would give him one of his signature cuddles to cheer him up. When Scott was bored, Chica would happily play games with him. One of the times, Scott gave Chica a walkie-talkie and tell him to go hide. When Chica was ready, he would tell him on the walkie-talkie and Scott would start looking for him on the security cameras. When the games ended quicker and quicker, Chica would start risking more and more so that he could get a longer game. Through running from room-to-room alone, Chica had managed to make a game last a good 45 minutes before Scott just gave up and told him to come out.

With all the fun times Scott had with the animatronics, he began to work overtime, just to volunteer and happily play with them! When Scott was technically off work hours, Scott would hang out in the game room with the animatronics. There have been multiple occasions where William has found Scott hiding from one of the animatronics during hide and seek. There's also been silly moments where Scott will be rocking out with the animatronic band! William actually stayed to watch them for a few minutes, before focusing on his task that day.

Though William liked seeing Scott play and hang out with the big robots, William wasn't much of a player himself. William was more of a watcher and an observer who loved saving bits of footage of funny Night Guard moments with the Fazbear suits. William even managed to get a video tape of Scott doing an impression of Freddy Fazbear! Bonnie, Foxy and Chica were laughing, while Freddy was shaking his head with a smirk on his face. That funny moment ended up turning into a one-sided tickle fight between Freddy and Scott. William thought Scott's impressions were absolutely phenomenal! And accurate! William couldn't stop laughing at the amount of bear jokes he made!

So when William and Henry began explaining their plans for a fifth and a sixth animatronic, Scott was ecstatic! He was so excited to meet a couple new animatronic faces and add more animatronic robots to the Fazbear crew! So, Scott offered to meet the new animatronics and introduce them and everything. While Henry was a bit hesitant, William happily allowed Scott to help! He's seen what Scott can do with them. What could go wrong?

Well, Scott's excitement turned into confusion when he saw that the new animatronics were golden versions of Bonnie and Freddy. Scott...didn't know how to react. Though he put on a really good acting face for the introduction, Scott walked away feeling...hurt inside. The new animatronics were...cold. Very cold-hearted compared to Freddy and Bonnie. To make matters worse, it looked like William Afton was trying to replace Freddy Fazbear and Bonnie with golden, upgraded animatronics. Scott was a little hurt by this. He felt like the singer and the guitar player were getting taken for granted, and felt...nostalgic and judgmental of William's choices. Even though the animatronics were going to last longer than the original Freddy and Bonnie were, It felt like a rock band was getting pulled apart. Scott felt like he was witnessing the split of The Beatles band. It was painful to watch unfold. Though Scott tried to create a relationship with the golden Freddy Fazbear, it was a lot harder thanks to its cold-hearted nature. Something about a cold robot that was meant to give kids joy and excitement, seemed to scare him. The animatronics should be able to show emotion! Not sit there like dead animals!

And then came the bite of 87...Turns out, Scott's predictions were unfortunately correct. And oh boy...did that sting...

But through the years, Scott stayed true to his relationships with the original band of robotic animals. As years turned into a decade though, Scott began to watch the happiness fade from their eyes, little by little. Freddy, Foxy, Chica and Bonnie were beginning to forget human faces versus animatronic faces. Eventually, Scott had to start wearing bear masks to keep himself safe from being physically harmed by the animatronics. To add to the sad news, The Fazbear suits began giving off a smell that was sort of...off putting. Scott couldn't explain it. It didn't stop him from visiting them, but it certainly made him question what was going on. Perhaps it was the animatronics getting old? Maybe their brains were getting a little mixed up from malfunctioning wires and parts? Scott couldn't tell you.

What Scott COULD tell you, was that he warned William and attempted to ask for a reason behind this robotic version of depression.

In reply, William only told him this: "They're probably going insane from singing the same songs over and over again. If a human mind can go insane from hearing one single song for too long, I'm sure the Fazbear band can lose their mind as well".

Scott decided to trust William on his judgement. Though the animatronics' version of Alzheimer's got worse, Scott made due with as much of it as he could. He didn't give up on them. He just couldn't. Not yet. When he missed them, Scott would have to ask them for cuddles and tickle attacks to properly remember the more playful times they used to have together. That would sometimes cheer him up. But...it wasn't a long-term solution...

Meanwhile, William had grown quite fond of Scott and his ability to stay committed to the animatronics no matter their strange and worrying behaviors. So when Henry and William's partnership ended, William felt bittersweet about it. William had lost a close friend of his, who meant the world to him. But at the same time, that allowed a new job opening for Fazbear Entertainment. William, knowing how well Scott worked with the animatronics, invited him to come be his new partner in the Fazbear Entertainment company. Absolutely honored to take on such a role, Scott accepted his offer and became a full-time partner in the entertainment industry. Though saying goodbye to the night guard job was very hard to do, Scott told them all that once he gets his new schedule, Scott will find time to visit the animatronics as much as he can.

On the Monday evening, Scott picked up his phone and called the night guard phone line in Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. When the phone wasn't picked up, Scott still recorded a message for the brand new night guard:

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay? Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced." Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.

So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?

Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.

Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

Scott hung up, and sighed into his hands. Please let the animatronics be good for the new guy...

[kingsuckjin]

Siren Call

**This is for the inthemoodproject by bangtansmutcentral all credits to the moodboard go to @meispace **

➡Pairing: Siren!Hoseok x reader

➡Genre: smut, angst, a little bit scary, some fluff if you’re wearing your glasses and squinting hard enough.

➡Synopsis: You didn’t find this strange club appealing at first, but now that the singer on stage in red has caught your eye, you can’t seem to stop thinking or maybe obsessing over him, and you don’t know why. Apparently you’ve caught his attention too and it feels like he’s only drawing you in more and more. Maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew by coming here.

➡Words: 6.7k

➡Warnings: reality alteration?, Unprotected sex (use protection pls), oral sex (m receiving), a bit of dom Hobi, restraints, a whip is brought out, choking, forced orgasm?, lots and lots of teasing.

➡My masterlist

You looked across the small table with a grimace at your best friend, Anna, in her sparkling silver mask. Her empty drink tray sat on the table, eyes shining as she looked at the stage entranced by the singer in red who you thought was completely horrible.

Why had she invited you here just to witness this man shrieking into a microphone? And why was it mandatory for everyone to wear these stupid masks.

The whole club seemed to be nineteen thirties burlesque themed, and so far the performers had reflected the atmosphere as well. It was a creative idea, you’d give them that. The large crowd seemed to agree.

Around you people sat packed at tables and even stood, lining the walls in their masks. Your best friend told you they had all come here for them but you found it hard to believe since he was currently killing your ears with his song.

You turned to look at each one of the guests’ faces around you, and they all stared at the stage with the same glassy eyed look your best friend had behind her mask.

Something just felt… weird.

You leaned across the table and called Anna’s name snapping her out of her trance.

“This guy sucks.” You mouthed.

“You’ll get used to it, I thought the same when I first heard him too, but now… oh man what I wouldn’t give to…” she began staring off at the man on stage again.

“Don’t you have a job to be doing?” You let out a laugh. Her eyes went wide in realization before she jumped up from her seat at the table and grabbed her drink tray.

“You’re not gonna sneak out on me, are you? Stay till the end, you’ll thank me.” She leaned in to tell you so you could hear her over the music.

Somehow you doubted you’d be thanking her for this, but you lived to make others happy. Besides, she had been begging you for months to come see this guy and visit her at her relatively new job that she seemed to be so proud of, with the alcohol around and the unique atmosphere and decor, it seemed like the perfect job for her.

“As long as you keep the free drinks coming I’ll be here.” You joked.

“I’ll sneak you a couple more.” She told you and you gave her a nod before watching her zip off.

With your Anna gone, your eyes had very few other places to go besides the singer in red on stage.

You looked over the fiery red haired singer and for just a fraction of a second you could swear your eyes locked. In that moment your heart beat hard and suddenly, though you sat stationary in your seat, you felt like your body was falling. And if you closed your eyes, you probably would’ve sworn it was. You almost felt… disappointment at him looking away from you so quickly.

You looked down at the table and cocked your head at the fruity drink that you had sworn you already drained, it was now full again.

Were you drunk already? You thought Anna had actually been pretty sneaky and generous about your free drinks, that had to be the only explanation for it. You lifted the glass to your lips but heard something that grabbed your attention once again.

“I’m your guilty pleasure”

Your eyes were pulled- no, dragged- back to the singer on the stage and his words.

“You can’t escape, never.”

He was looking right at you as he sang, and as you gazed back it was like you had acquired tunnel vision. Despite the crowded room, he was the only figure that you could focus on. Everyone else and all of your surroundings had melted away.

You felt you were falling again but you couldn’t scream at the rushing feeling, something told you you wanted to hit the bottom of whatever this was, you would feel whole if you could just hang on until the end. You knew instinctively that you could feel complete if you just gave in to the exhilarating feeling and surrendered yourself to him. This was like an itch you so desperately wanted to cave in and scratch.

Your eyes snapped back down at your already half empty drink in your hand. When had you drank more? How long had you been sitting here eyeing this man?

You noticed you felt a bit strange, and also a bit panicked. You weren’t exactly sure why, you just knew that the man on stage was inspiring these emotions.

“It’s a bit dangerous, but I’m so sweet.”

His once grating voice now sounded smooth like melting butter and it echoed through your mind. You still refused to look up, to look at him at all. You thought you should maybe leave.

“I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you”

Yet, How could you leave when you truly wanted the sentiments he was singing to you about? His voice beckoned you, called to you, made you feel like his song was meant only for you.

Maybe he was singing to you, you knew there was only one way to find out.

You looked up at him.

“You called me, see? I’m so sweet. Follow the sound of the pipe.”

And with that you were lost in him again, buried in his silky voice and perfect features.

There was a quick flash through your mind of you collared and on your knees in front of this god of a man, as he smiled a crooked smirk down at you.

You let out a slight gasp at the thought

“I’m ruining you right now, please forgive me because you can’t live without me”

As if he had pried your daydream right out of your mind, he looked directly at you from the stage and gave you a perfect replica of the smirk you had envisioned.

“I’m taking over you.”

The moment he stopped singing and claps sounded throughout the club was the point where you were knocked back into reality.

You sat there dumbfounded as you looked at your once again empty glass. Your heart pounded and you as the applause died down you were left with several questions. When had you managed to finish your drink? How much time had passed during your trance? Without a doubt, you had completely fallen for this bizarre stranger.

But, Had he really changed his voice half-way through the song? You tried to rationalize the shift you noticed in his song, and within yourself. Maybe you had lost track of your drinks, and were just more open to the experience because you were quickly hitting your limit. Or, you had you just gotten used to the unique performance style like your friend told you that you would.

You found yourself not just wanting, but needing another glance at this man, just to be sure that his beauty and perfection was real, or maybe to lock eyes once more. You felt your heart sink when you saw that the stage was empty, his show was over.

Your eyes quickly scanned the club, but he had vanished, and the next performance was beginning. You stayed and watched but this new singer couldn’t hold a candle to the previous act. You were bored. All you could think about was the enticing stranger, he ran through your mind over and over until your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Anna taking a seat across from you.

“Shifts over! Ready to head out?” She asked cheerfully, but looked completely exhausted.

You looked around the club once again to see you were the last person left who wasn’t an employee.

You went to hand over your mask to her, you were under the impression that it was the property of the venue. To your surprise, she declined it.

“The club usually lets you keep them if you come back. You’re coming back next weekend, right?” She looked at you expectantly and you felt yourself wordlessly nod.

“You’re so drunk, let’s get you home!” A smile grew on her face and he let out a laugh at the state of you.

You dreamed of the handsome singer, not just that night but every night that week. It felt like he had a hold of you, still drawing you into his inner world with his voice, showing you all the things you could do together. You don’t think you had ever wanted someone so badly in your life.

You asked Anna about the performer of course, only to find out his name was Hoseok, and that he was the club owner. She of course asked you to come visit her at work the following week, and you agreed without hesitation.

You sat at a table in the front row in your red and black mask from your first visit. Hoping to once more gain Hoseoks’ attention with a more of an extravagant and sexy look than last time, you eagerly waited for him to come on stage. You declined the drinks your best friend had offered you, she seemed too busy waiting tables and you didn’t want to trouble her anyway.

You were not only curious about him, but felt this aching need to just gaze upon his face again. Although, you knew you wouldn’t be satisfied. Seeing him would only add fuel to the fire of your obsession that was growing for him.

And when he did appear, dressed in the same red jacket, black dress shirt underneath with fiery hair, the rest of the world once again melted away with the sound of Hoseok’s enchanting voice.

You briefly wondered if this was what true love felt like… or true lust with the mess you were already making of your panties.

He sang the same song, you no longer questioned the lyrics or the intent behind them. His eyes drifted to you every so often making you feel like your heart might stop. You could feel the anticipation building, evoking the feeling of being at the peak of a roller coaster just before the drop. But the drop was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t feel the rush associated with final falling. This time you didn’t experience the release you originally felt while watching him, the very same sensation you felt as he touched you in your dreams. He was just pulling you further and further in.

Minutes felt like only seconds as you sat there, unable to look away. Unfortunately, the song was over before you could fully cherish his warm, inviting voice.

You watched Hoseok walk off the stage this time as people applauded, and you could swear he gave a glance back to you.

You watched as the alluring singer’s eyes locked onto Anna carrying a drink tray walking passed him, and stopped her in her tracks with a hand on her arm.

You couldn’t tell what he was saying, but she looked directly at you in response. Quickly, you averted your gaze back to back to the stage- pretending to search for the next entertainer.

You gulped as you noticed your best friend walking over to you in the corner of your vision, drink tray still in hand.

“Y/n, he wants to talk to you.” She sat the tray down on the table and leaned in so you could hear.

“Who?” You asked innocently, but the fluttering excited feeling in your gut told you that you knew, you just wanted to make sure this was really happening.

“The owner, Hoseok.” Even she seemed surprised.

“Why?” This was a question you couldn’t even guess the answer to, to your dismay she shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe he wants to offer you a job? If he does just tell him the truth that you already have one. That would have to be it even though none of us got our jobs like that… but did you notice he seems to only hire attractive girls? You would probably be a good candidate in his eyes.” She whispered the last part to you.

You had noticed that all the servers were pretty females, and your friend was no different.

“He wants to see you in his dressing room though. I can show you where it is, but employees aren’t allowed in.” Her words only left you with more questions, most likely ones she didn’t know the answers too either. You were too impatient to wait for the answers right now anyway with the thought of being alone with the man from your dreams.

You immediately stood up from your chair, making her smile; and followed her through an employees only door by the bar in the back.She led you down a long hallway with deep red walls of doors leading to VIP rooms you couldn’t see into, making you wonder what went on inside them.

“Maybe he likes you.” Anna wiggled her eyebrows at you and your mouth nearly entirely fell open “Don’t worry, he’s a pretty good guy… from what I’m told… never talked to him directly before today though.”

She knocked on a black door at the end of the hallway that you two suddenly stopped at. You anxiously waited as Anna quickly took off the same way you both had come.

Before you could call her back to you or ask any questions, the door was opened. And there he stood. Red jacket now off and wearing only the black dress shirt, bearing a warm smile that made your heartbeat stuttered as he beckoned you into the room.

Your legs moved before your mind even thought about it, as if your body was designed to comply to his every command, the thought made heat radiate within you.

His “dressing room” matched the rest of the club, all red and black. There was a massive black vanity with drawers, an authentic looking vintage chaise lounge in deep red velvet, a coffee table with a vase of roses. But the thing that stuck out the most to you was the black leather whip on the wall, hanging like a decoration on the wall above the case lounge.

“Are you hungry?” He asked picking up a strawberry from one of the many on a silver platter on the large vanity. You had not noticed that tray of strawberries there before.

“No thank you.” You declined with a weak voice. You hadn’t drank a drop. So why was your head spinning?

He turned around to face you strawberry in hand and simply just let out a “hmm” sound before taking a bite.

“Why did you ask me to come back here?” You managed to work up the nerve to ask.

“Interesting.” He walked closer your direction and looked into your eyes. You felt like you were hanging on every word, every movement he made. Every centimeter closer to you left you feeling more and more needy for him to just be the tiniest bit closer.

You wanted to ask what was so interesting, but you just couldn’t seem to voice your thoughts.

“You’re asking questions. Does it really matter to you why I asked you here?” His gaze only grew more intense. “Why do you play this game with me? I saw you here last week, and you resisted.”

You swallowed down the urge to just lean in and kiss him and his strawberry stained lips so you could speak.

“R-resist? Resist what?”

“Me.” He said simply with a smirk before biting the strawberry down to the leafy part and tossed the rest down, yet it never landed on the floor, it disappeared mid-fall.

Despite the statement, you couldn’t see him as a man that was full of himself. Something about the way he said it and what your brain was whispering to you told you he wasn’t. Something was… off.

“Do you not like me influencing your thoughts and emotions?” He raised an eyebrow at you, “is that why you resist me?”

Your mouth floundered open and closed.

“Then by all means, have them back. You don’t play along most of the time anyway.”

And just like that, a cloud of haze had been lifted. His smirking lips no longer stained red from the fruit he had just eaten. In fact, there wasn’t even a tray on the table. You felt like you could speak, your head no longer dizzy. However, your panties were still soaked through from just looking at him.

“There’s nothing I can do about the attraction you feel however, that just comes with being what I am… or maybe my power doesn’t impact you as much as the others.”

“And what exactly… are you?” Even though you could express yourself freely now, you weren’t so sure you wanted an answer to your question. You had a feeling your mind couldn’t comprehend anything he would say, and you knew he wasn’t human.

“Would you still want me if I told you I was a beast? I’m not so sure. I know you find me alluring. Everyone does, they have no choice. But you?” He chuckled “I think you do. I think you chose to form a connection with me, you chose to return to me tonight. But even now, you struggle against my influence! Last week you were able to look away from me, despite my best efforts to draw you in…an impossible feat for mere mortals.” He brought a finger up to tap your head. “Why do you fight the thoughts I send you? Why aren’t you as pliable as the rest? Why can’t I make you fully love me when you are the prettiest human I’ve ever seen?” He almost seemed frustrated but you were too bewildered and shocked by his blunt confession to care. “It must be a curse.” He decided “you’re some kind of a… a witch!”

“A witch?” You were completely thrown off by his accusation. You almost felt like laughing, but maybe it was because your brain just couldn’t comprehend this bizarre situation.

“Give into me.” He demanded.

“I thought that I already had…” you admitted.

“How much do I affect you?” He eyed you up.

“I-I-” you stuttered nervously.

“Then maybe If I can’t make you mine with my mind, I’ll just have to make you mine with my words and actions.”

He took the step to enclose the space between you and lifted a hand to cradle your chin in his fingers. He drew his face close to yours so his lips just hovered over yours, noses brushing.

“Would you like that? Would you like me to make you mine? Not just in dreams this time, we could have each other, right here. Please say you want that- say you want me.” Although he was now begging you, you didn’t feel the haze of his control, he was letting you choose. Yet, how could you say no when the most attractive man you had ever seen was this close to you. How could you refuse him when his warm breath was ghosting over your lips, ready to kiss you the moment you said yes.

But yes wasn’t your immediate thought.

“Do you say this to all the girls?” You asked.

He pulled his face away to look at you but left his hand under your chin.

“ All the other girls don’t ask these kinds of questions, so no. Even if they did, I wouldn’t tell them they’re the prettiest girl I had ever seen, because that would have been a lie.” His lips came back in, but this time they landed on yours softly for one fleeting moment, before he pulled them back away and went to your ear. “I want to give you all the things I know you dream about me. But how can I when you refuse to surrender to me? What can I do when you fight me like this? I want you to give in and trust me, just for a moment, just long enough to show you what I can do. I promise you that you won’t regret a moment of it. Let me back into your head, my love.”

His voice was so smooth and you wanted nothing more than to hear it whispering the dirtiest actions imaginable to you. Your panties were already so wet you could feel them stick to you as you looked back at him. You had been dreaming of this moment, you truly did want to give into him and you knew it wasn’t because he had some sort of spell over you. No, it was because you were curious, you wanted to finally experience the peak of the sensations he could provide you, and you were willing to let him do what he wanted to your body and mind just so you could know. It mattered no more if he had meant what he said or how many girls he’s done this with, what mattered to you in the moment was him giving you what you craved.

“Fine… I’ll give in. Do what you want to me, manipulate my mind, I don’t care anymore.”

"No mind manipulation, I want these choices to be all yours. I want you to decide you’re mine all on your own.” He placed a kiss along your jaw and dragged his lips back to yours, but did not connect them although you were praying to whatever god you could that you could feel them against yours again.

“What do you say?” It was barely above a whisper as he moved his hands to your hips.

You decided to say the only thing on your mind, the only thing you’ve wanted since you saw him last week. It was the only thought you’ve repeated obsessively up until this point, feeling you might explode if you didn’t get it.

“Fuck me.”

You saw his small smile form in response, but it was quickly cut short as he smashed his lips hard against yours. You pressed your mouth back just as hard showing him how much you meant your words.

Your tongue entered his mouth first and his fought yours right back so wildly that your teeth clashed together, as if you were ready to devour each other.

You had never felt this level of raw primal urge before, but you loved it.

His hands ran from your hips to your thighs before running them back up and bringing the hem of your skirt along with it, revealing the top of your sexy black stockings. You had carefully selected your lingerie tonight. There was no way you could have predicted how your encounter with Hoseok would end. But you wanted to be prepared, anticipating that your dreams might have foretold the future.

His hands moved around to your ass and he gave it a squeeze before pulling away.

“Let’s hope you follow spoken orders better than mental ones. Take off the dress.” He demanded and wordlessly you followed the order and peeled the rest of your black dress off over your head, revealing to him the lacy black bra of the sexy ensemble you picked out for him.

“You dressed up.” He stated “I didn’t try to influence that choice, but it’s driving me mad.” He looked your body over. “You must be a witch…how else could you make me feel this way?”

“I’m not a witch.” You let out a little chuckle this time.

“Even if you were, I don’t know if I would care anymore. After all, I told you what I am. And you don’t seem to be curious.”

“Not sure if I still believe you.”

“Oh? Well then maybe I should demonstrate by playing with your mind a bit more.”

“Do it.” You dared.

“That’s what I like to hear, what a good girl.” He pulled out a red collar seemingly from nowhere. You felt its soft fuzziness on the inside when he and brought it to your neck and fastened the back.

You thought about asking how he was pulling objects out of thin air like that, but you already knew. You felt the haze of him in your head again the moment you granted him permission. But this time, you welcomed his presence, you wanted him in and all over you in every way possible.

“On your knees.” He demanded next.

Your knees hit the cold wood floor and you looked up at him to see him undoing the buttons on his black shirt painfully slowly before shrugging it off entirely.

He stood over you with his six pack on full display, looking down at you in only his dress pants, which now worked to contain his erection

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He demanded and you looked at the protruding outline of his cock. “Tell me, I can’t read your mind, only play with it my dear.”

“I want your cock in my mouth.” You said squeezing your thighs together to relieve some of the throbbing want between them. Your coated panties had already began to rub off onto your thighs.

“How bad do you want it?” He asked, and an image so real you could almost feel it flashed through your brain of his cock being stuffed down your throat, it was so satisfying that it made your mouth water.

You knew this was him feeding you this scene and playing with your head again, but you still didn’t mind.

“I want it so badly, I want to feel it in my throat, I want you to face fuck me.” You made eye contact with him the entire time you spoke.

“Well what are you waiting for if you want it that badly?” He asked and in the blink of an eye you had undone his belt and his dress pants, and pulled his hardened cock out.

You let your entire mouth envelop his length just like you wanted so badly to do, no holding back, no teasing.

He let out a sharp breath as his hand tangled in your hair. He gave a little practice thrust and you let out a moan at the sensation of his warm cock filling your mouth, feeling just as satisfying as you knew it would.

The second slow thrust was a bit harder, he looked down at you peering up at him as he did it.

“You want me to fuck your face huh?” He gripped your hair together and began to thrust fast and hard into your mouth. You looked up at him groaning with his head slightly thrown back. His face mid pleasure was absolutely gorgeous and it only made you more lost in him and his grunts, moans, and groans. You weren’t sure how long he had been pounding into your throat for.

"Mmm so good, I bet your wet little pussy will feel better than your face though.” He tugged at your hair still entangled in his fingers and you pulled back enough to take him from your mouth.

Once he released your hair, you almost felt broken hearted as he put himself back into his pants.

“I have a different plan for you though, love.” He held up a wide red silk ribbon. “Are you willing to trust me?”

“You wouldn’t be in my head and I wouldn’t have just had your dick in my throat if I didn’t.” You replied.

He leaned over to your knee on floor level so that he was in your face.

“You have quite the mouth, both figuratively and literally speaking… I like it. Now put your hands together behind your back.” He straightened himself back up to loom back over you, you watched him carefully and put your hands behind your back like you were told.

He snapped the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding the ribbon and all the lights in the room went dim red, giving everything a red tinge.

“So much better.”

The ribbon in his other hand was gone now, and you felt material now on your wrists binding them tightly together.

“Now maybe we should see how much you really trust me, let’s do a test.” With that he walked over to the sofa and you swallowed hard when he took the leather whip down from the wall.

He watched your reaction carefully as he sauntered back over, running the whip through his fingers.

“Don’t turn around, darling.” He disappeared behind you “or I’ll have to find a way to punish you.”

You heard the squeak of what you could only imagine was him sitting down in a leather chair behind you. You knew instinctively that there wasn’t a leather chair behind you. But had long since noticed things seemed to be appearing and disappearing at will. Like the painting of fruits that appeared on the wall enclosed in a black frame. It seemed as though he wanted to give you something to look at since he asked you not to look at him.

You were ripped from your ponderings on what was real in the room when you felt the cool leather tip of the whip caressing the skin of your back. The winding pattern felt snake like.

“I saw you eyeing my toy on the wall the moment you walked in. Do you still trust me?”

Was he asking if you if you trusted him to refrain from using the whip on you?

“Trust you…Enough not to hurt me?” You were confused or maybe it was just the dream like haze of a hold he still had on your mind keeping you from forming coherent thoughts.

“Now why would you think I’d hurt you?” He dragged the tip of the whip over your ass. “Do you truly think I would harm you?”

“I’m not sure.” You admitted.

You heard the squeak of leather behind you and you felt your hair being moved to expose the side of your neck and shoulder.

“I would never hurt you, that’s what this test is demonstrating.” You felt his breath on your neck which triggered goosebumps to rise all over your body. “I want you to know that I only want you to feel good things, y/n, like this.”

You were startled by a familiar feeling rising in your stomach, it climbed higher and higher and within seconds you were orgasming completely untouched. It was overwhelmingly powerful and you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning as your head fell back. You were so lost in the intense high that his warm lips on your neck barely registered to you.

“That’s my girl.” He said over your panting, still coming down and in slight shock.

“Please.” You begged “please just fuck me.” You wanted nothing more in this world than to feel his beautiful cock filling your pussy just like he had your throat. You felt like he was just playing with you now. Like a cat with a caught mouse.

“Would that make you mine?” He whispered so quietly in your ear “would it make me yours?”

The haze in your mind felt heavier than it ever had. Thoughts of his fingers grazing over your skin paired with deep and powerful thrusts into you played over and over in your mind in a matter of milliseconds. At this point you would say whatever he wanted to hear if it meant you could finally experience the images he was teasing you with.

You heard the words. And though you didn’t feel yourself speak them, but it was undeniably your desperate voice begging for him.

“Please, yes, I’m yours, anything, anything you want.”

“Up, my love.” He commanded and you heard him stand behind you so you followed suit.

He led you over to the lounge, laid you down on the soft velvet surface, and stripped you of everything including your hand restraints. Everything was off except for your mask and the red collar.

You watched as he finished undressing his lower half, stomach muscles flexing and moving with every movement. You imagined what they would look like flexing as he thrust inside of you, how his now exposed cock would feel stretching you out. You let out an accidental whine making him smirk as he walked over to you, fully naked, with his body looking godlike and sinister under the red glow of the lights in the room.

“What? Can’t wait a few seconds for me?” He asked and stopped right before the sofa. His eyes scanned over your body hungrily before taking his hard cock in his hands, giving it a few languid strokes. It was hard to peel your eyes away from his slow, hypnotic movements. You squeezed your legs together and let out another wordless whimper. You could tell he liked watching you look like you needed him, and you felt like you couldn’t last another minute without him.

Luckily he crawled onto the lounge between your legs, and this excited you. But instead of him entering you or placing his hands where you needed his touch, he reached up and placed the pads of his fingers under your breasts. He slowly ran them down your stomach with a feather light touch. You couldn’t help but squirm more in anticipation.

“If you want me, you’ll fuck me. Take me.” You dared and looked up at him with fire in your eyes. You had experienced more than enough teasing tonight, he had barely even touched you yet and you were completely fed up with waiting.

In a flash he put your leg over his shoulder and reached down to guide himself to your entrance.

You both let out a moan as he pushed himself into you.

“So wet.” You heard him comment before he began thrusting, slowly at first to let you adjust to him, but in no time at all he was smashing into you.

With your cloudy mind and the intense pleasure he was no doubt feeding you, you almost felt like you were in a dreamlike state of euphoria that you never wanted to end.

When he came down over top of you, chest to chest you finally felt the feeling of being whole, but you didn’t know if that was just a feeling he was making you feel or not.

“I want you forever.” He whispered in your ear and it felt like bounced around and echoed inside of your brain. The knot of an oncoming orgasm began to slowly start winding in your lower stomach, tighter and tighter.

“Give me your body and soul and you can have mine.” You had no idea how he could be saying these things since his lips were on your neck.

You looked up at the whip somehow hung back on the wall.

The orgasm just kept building.

Your hands were in his blood red hair, his body moved on top of yours like s slithering snake, pushing into you as far and as hard as he could.

“Please love me back.”

You felt the collar around your neck tighten for a moment, making you feel even more light headed.

You came hard, clawing at him, moaning his name in a blur as your orgasm ran through you, almost seeming like too much. Your body arched of its own accord, as much as it could with him on top of you. In that moment you swore that you loved him in the midst of your high when you felt his hips stall and him release deep inside of you with grunts and moans.

And then your head stopped spinning, you wore no collar, the lights were normal again and he just… seemed like a normal man on top of you, panting, looking down at you.

But you knew for a fact now that he wasn’t, it was absolutely undeniable.

He climbed off of you and began to get dressed and you found your clothes on the floor and did the same as your brain tried to comprehend what had just taken place. You had just had the best sex of your life, with this beautiful… creature, and this creature wanted to now own you.

While the sex was great, and he was beautiful, you still refused to be owned by anyone or anything.

You waited for him to say something, and he did once you were both fully dressed.

“Did I please you? Was it enough?” He slowly walked over to you and reached for your hand. He seemed slightly surprised that you withdrew your hand.

“What are you anyway?” Your brain had suddenly wanted to know, it seemed to care now.

“A siren.” He seemed almost disappointed as he spoke.

Your brain scrambled to try to remember lore or even The Odyssey by Homer. Weren’t those the women who sang beautifully on rocks to lure sailors to their deaths? Did they have wings? Fins? You couldn’t remember and frankly it didn’t matter to you.

“Are you afraid of me? I proved to you I wouldn’t hurt you.” His eyes pleaded with you “you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The way you can just fight my powers like that, it makes me want you more. I want you.”

You couldn’t tell if you were scared or not, but your heart was racing and you knew there was no way you’d let a creature so powerful just have you. What if he wanted to control you entirely? You didn’t know what being this thing’s girlfriend entailed and you didn’t really want to find out, you didn’t want him screwing with your mind anymore either.

“Give me your body and soul and you can have mine.” You remembered his words.

“You said you’d be mine.” His face fell into a sort of a frown as you stood there and said nothing.

“Hoseok…” you searched for the right words to say, careful to not upset him even though you had a feeling it was inevitable. You wondered if he would just let you go, he said he would never hurt you, right?

“Hoseok, I- I’m not looking for a relationship right now.” You said as you looked anywhere in the room but the man who stood directly in front of you.

“You could have me in return, a siren. We could have sex like that all the time, I could take care of you, I could-”

“I said no.” You cut off his begging with a firm, straightforward answer.

He went quiet for a moment and as he did you could feel your heart pounding in your ears.

A little voice in your head told you to run, but you ignored it just like you had been since first seeing him.

“Very well.” You were so stunned by his agreement. You looked up into his eyes, you wanted to apologize but fear raced through your body when you realized you couldn’t move. You hadn’t even noticed the fogginess of your mind again or him slipping back into it.

“If you won’t willingly give me your soul like you did your body, I suppose I’m forced to just take it then.” his eyes looked utterly sinister as your stomach dropped from his words, as if thrown off the highest building. You wanted to scream, but you simply couldn’t.

He brought his hand up to cup your jaw and came in close. For a moment you thought he would kiss you, but instead forced your mouth open and hovered his mouth over yours, lips never touching.

Your brain pleaded and screamed at your body to do something, anything at all but it was absolutely no use. You had been able to fight off his control once before, or maybe that was what he had only let you think, but there seemed to be no escaping from his powers now.

You began to feel weaker and weaker, more and more empty and your drive to fight him became less and less. He was taking something from you, whether that be your life or soul or something else entirely you didn’t know, but you felt your vision going dim as your body felt more and more exhausted by the second.

Your last thought before your vision turned black was that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you should’ve listened to your instincts, you should’ve listened to his song. The haunting words in his sweet voice with the words “I’m taking over you.” Played in your head before you slipped into nothingness.