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withleeknow · 3 months ago

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wishful thinking. (7.5)

chapter 7.5: limbo

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; minho's pov; non-explicit smut, kissing, grinding, implied unprotected sex; alcohol consumption, non-linear storytelling (jumps around a few random scenes before we get back to the present that picks up from the end of chapter 7), cursing, the final line :-?; not that unedited i am so so sorry lol word count: 5.6k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

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Wishing fountains, we pray for change in the dark Moving mountains, we end up right where we start The world’s not falling apart But you and I, baby we are

Wishing Fountains - Bad Suns

“What does it say?” Minho asks.

You sigh, your eyes trailing the words on the small piece of paper in your hands before you shove one half of the fortune cookie in your mouth. It seems dry; you look like you can barely swallow it.

��Bullshit,” you say simply, a little bitter before you hide behind a mask of indifference, turning to him as you ask, “Yours?”

He breaks his own fortune cookie in half, pulling out a similar piece of paper that reads, “‘Jeg elsker deg’ means ‘I love you’ in Norwegian.”

You're both lying on a fluffy rug on the floor of your bedroom, with an empty bottle of rosé sitting somewhere near your head. “That’s... random,” you say, casting your eyes to the ceiling. “But I mean, at least it’s kind of educational. Now you know a phrase in Norwegian.”

“Sure,” Minho laughs, testing out the syllables in his mouth and butchering them in the process. “Who would I even say it to?”

“Impress your future girlfriend with your worldly knowledge. Or say it to Hyunjin, I’m sure he’ll swoon and blush like a schoolgirl.”

“That’s the last thing I want. He’s already clingy enough as it is.”

“Alright. Well, your loss then.”

He only hums in response. “You’re really not gonna tell me what yours is?”

“I told you. It’s bullshit.”

“Wanna tell me why the fortune cookie is evil at least? I’ll fight it for you.”

You roll your eyes, shoving at his shoulder with a playful scoff. “It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

It takes a minute for you to gather your thoughts into one semi-cohesive pile.

“Just… reminds me how I don’t really fit into anyone’s life,” you start, your voice coming out a little small and timid before you seem to let the alcohol give you enough confidence to say what you want. “I don’t feel like I’m worth anyone’s time. Everyone’s going to outgrow me eventually, if they haven’t already. Their lives will only get bigger and bigger, and they’ll have to leave me behind at some point. All that space but none for me.

“I think I’ll be stuck like this forever, in this fucking… limbo. And I know it’s dramatic because we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives in front of us and whatever else that people say. But it feels like wherever I go and whatever I do, my life will always be this small while you all move on. Chan and Jess, Seungmin, Changbin, Felix, even Hyunjin and Jisung when they’re not too busy being idiots. Everyone’s got everything all planned out, and they have other things to fall back on if those plans don’t work out. If I fall, I think I’ll just keep falling until I hit rock bottom.

“And you… you’re gonna do great things too. You’re gonna live your life and it’s going to be a good one, and you’ll forget about me too. A few years from now, when everyone’s already moved on, I’ll just be a girl that you used to know. I’m just a stop along the way.”

Then you pause, and the laugh you let out afterward is choked up and not at all sincere. You rub your hands down your face, groaning a little when you say, ��Ugh, that was depressing. Sorry, it’s the wine. Forget I said anything.”

You have beautiful eyes, that’s what Minho has always thought, the kind that holds all the universe’s sparkles and all its sadness too, a bittersweet balance. The kind that makes one want to stop and admire for a while. He loves when they light up before the joy gradually spreads across your face, like watching the sun peak over the horizon before it colors the sky with ethereal pinks and purples and blues. You’re a wonderful sunrise, his favorite part of every day.

He even loves your faraway gaze when you’re here but you’re elsewhere simultaneously, hiding in your eyes musings that are privy to nobody else. You’d stare into the distance and he’d watch you the whole time, wondering if any of the thoughts that occupy your mind are about him.

Minho has an urge to take you into his arms and hold you tight and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That no one’s going to forget about you because you’re not someone who can be forgotten so easily, let alone be forgotten by him. That he isn’t going anywhere if it’s not by your side, that he wants to be in your life until you decide you’re sick of him, not the other way around.

He wants to tell you he loves you because that’s the truth. He was gone the minute he saw you at that stupid party years ago when you had walked in shyly with Chan and Jess. You had tried to make yourself smaller in a roomful of strangers, but you’ve always been the only one Minho could find in a crowd.

Years and years from now, when he thinks back to his youth, the highlight reel that will pop up in his mind will be of his idiot friends and the good memories they’ve shared with one another. How they laughed and cried, how they fell and got back up together time and time again.

And at the center of it all will be you. Green grass, blue skies, his golden days and you, the focal point of his youth.

He loves you. Would it help, or would it scare you?

He doesn’t let himself debate that question for long. Regardless of what the answer is, now isn’t the right time. So instead, he says, “For what it’s worth, everyone’s just taking it one day at a time, even if they seem like they have it all planned out. You’re not falling behind. You’re going at your own pace, who cares about other people?”

You turn your head to stare at him, your cheeks flushed with a rosy tint from the wine you had shared and a pensive look on your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, but he holds your gaze anyway.

“And I can’t speak for anyone else, but you’ll always have me. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

A quiet moment passes. If Minho focuses hard enough, he thinks he might be able to hear the faint beats of your heart.

His gaze flickers to your lips for barely a second before it returns to your eyes, quick enough for it to escape your notice.

Then, you’re holding yourself up on one elbow and shuffling into his orbit until you’re right by his side. He doesn’t move a single inch; he only watches as you get closer, and closer, and closer until there’s no more space between the two of you. He blinks, and in that split second he misses the way you let your eyes shut as you lean down to press your lips to his.

He’s surprised, but pleasantly so.

You taste like rosé, like something he’s always known that he wants to chase.

It stuns him enough that he forgets to respond, his mind focused solely on the feeling of your soft lips on him, the scent of your jasmine perfume and how you’re so warm pressed against him like this.

Maybe it’s the stillness of his body that shocks you out of it, because you pull away after a few seconds with an instant look of mortification in your eyes, trying to scramble back to your original spot on the rug like you’ve just committed an unspeakable sin. Running away, he thinks, is your first instinct.

But Minho is just a tad quicker than you are. He doesn’t let you stray very far when he props himself up to cup your face with one hand and bring you back to him.

He’s kissing you again and for a brief moment, he feels like he could die.

You don’t break from him this time. Instead, you’re kissing him back just as deeply. You let him lower you back to the floor as he holds himself up above you, his tongue slipping past the seal of your lips while his thumb strokes your cheek softly, keeping you there in his loose hold so you could still run if that’s what you want to do.

But you stay with him, your hands trailing up the expanse of his chest to find purchase on his shoulders, your legs parting so he could perfectly slot himself into the space that you’ve allowed him.

When he rocks his hips into you experimentally, you bite on his bottom lip, a whining sound from your throat comes out muffled against his mouth.

He strays just long enough and far enough so he could look into your eyes, with your pupils blown much darker than they had been at the start of the evening.

He says your name, the gentlest sound in the world, then a question. “What do you want?”

Minho half expects you to overthink your answer and come back to your senses, to choose flight because it would be the easier option.

But you don’t. There’s a dazed look in your eyes as you lock onto him, and there’s something underneath the pool of lust in your gaze that leaves him breathless and wondering.

“You,” you say quietly, “I want you.”

And it’s with this simple answer that you pull him back to you again, not the other way around. You kiss him more fervently than before if that’s even possible. When he slides his arm around your waist, you let him pick you up to cross the few steps it takes to get to your bed, his lips never leaving you even after he has laid you onto the mattress. They follow the path where your jawline leads down to your neck, then where your neck meets your collarbone, and he savors every little whimper that you make for him even though he’s barely touched you yet. There’s hardly any patch of skin that he leaves unkissed, and when he reaches where your shirt begins to hide the rest of you from him, he only looks up at you, quietly asking for more permission.

You don’t give him a verbal answer. You take matters into your own hands, lifting your top over your head and flinging it somewhere on the floor.

Then your bra follows to join your shirt, wherever it may be. Minho assumes they’ve landed on the bottle of rosé, only guessing by the sound of the glass being knocked over and rolling around. He’s not sure but he doesn’t care about it enough to look, not when he’s got you right here under him, so beautiful and so willing that it makes his head spin.

He’s imagined this before, just a few times whenever he's drunk enough to let his mind wander without the guilt that comes with it when he’s sober. He has wondered before what it would feel like to kiss you breathless and have you kiss him back, to touch you in ways that no one else ever has, to taste how sweet you are and feel your warmth. None of it is appropriate, not at all platonic. He’s well aware of it.

It's been years, ever since Minho met you at that party when he was 19 and you had been too awkward to start a conversation. Years of walking with you in the rain after class, sharing umbrellas that are too small to shield the both of you but it’s okay, because he doesn’t mind leaving half of his body exposed to the harsh weather as long as the rain doesn’t get on you. Years of making sure you get home safely after nights out with your friends, years of insisting that he sees you walk inside your building and up to your floor whether it's 11PM or 4:30AM. Years of lingering glances, of pretending he isn’t bothered whenever Felix offers to introduce you to someone, of smiles sent your way that are far too endeared to mean nothing at all.

Years of loving you in silence because he’s your friend first and foremost, and his friendship with you means more to him than the feelings he has for you.

And yet...

He’s here in your bed, watching you with mesmerized eyes as you take off the rest of your clothes before helping him discard his, as you kiss him just as deeply as he’s wanted to kiss you for the longest time, as you keep pulling him into you even when he’s already as close to you as humanly possible. His lips on yours, his heart pressed against the other side of yours. His fingers intertwined with yours when he slips inside of you, and how your hands stay interlocked the entire time you’re wrapped together. You cling to him so tightly, as though it would hurt you if he were to ever let go.

It’s the way you look at him, like he’s the only person that exists in your universe. It’s the broken moans that you give him, the nonsense babbles that make his chest swell with pride at the knowledge that he’s making you feel so good that the only thing you know how to say coherently is his name. It’s the heaven between your thighs, absolutely divine and infinitely better than any fantasy that he could ever let himself indulge in.

Just for tonight, Minho can pretend that you're his, even though he knows that he’s already been yours since the first time you met. He’s been yours for as long as he can remember, even if you don’t know it yet.

Later on, when he’s collapsed next to you on the bed, there’s a safe distance between your tired bodies and a certain tension in the air that’s heavy with the consequences of your actions. When he takes your hand, the one that’s shaking as you grip the sheets between your fingers, it alleviates some of that anxiety.

“The fortune cookie, what did it say?” he asks, like you’re simply continuing the conversation from before.

You let out a nervous chuckle. “Seriously?”

He gives you a lopsided smile, rubbing his thumb over your skin. “Seriously.”

You purse your lips as you look at him for another second before you cast your eyes to the ceiling again, like you’d done just an hour ago. “It said ‘You’ll be loved.’”

You are, he thinks to himself. You’re loved.

“Open wide.”

You give him a look, to which he only responds with a shrug and a sly grin.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” you say, but you take the spoonful of chicken soup that he offers you anyway. You can’t focus on the taste but it’s warm and the relief you feel is instant when it soothes your throat.

You’ve practically been on bedrest for the past three days, slowly rotting away in your apartment with a bad strain of the seasonal flu until Minho came over and unleashed his inner mama bear on you. Now here you are, wrapped up like a burrito on the couch (Minho insisted; he wouldn’t have it any other way) while he spoon feeds you homemade chicken soup.

You were stubborn about it at first, as one could probably imagine. When you told the group chat that you wouldn’t make it to movie night at Chan’s place last weekend, you were adamant that you would be able to sleep it off and bounce back in no time, despite Minho offering to make you some food and bring over some meds and cough drops.

The symptoms worsened overnight though, and you developed a fever along with a cough that’s worse than any you’ve ever experienced. When Minho called you to make sure you were still alive, you could barely even speak.

He hates your cavalier attitude when it comes to taking care of yourself. He hates himself even more for believing in your nonchalance and not bulldozing his way over sooner.

“I’m enjoying this because I was right,” he says, feeding you more of the soup. “I told you instant ramyeon wouldn’t cure you.”

He lets his I told you so triumph go easily, even though he suspects that you have much more to bite back at him if you could get through half a sentence without wanting to hack your lungs out. You make a noise, and he isn’t really sure if it’s one of agreement or protest but it’s most likely the latter. He thinks it’s cute that you close your eyes after every spoonful, lazily eating like one of his cats back home whenever they’ve run out of energy. You’re probably tired and can’t wait to get into bed.

When the soup is finished, Minho fetches you your meds and a glass of warm water. He doesn’t know if the scrunched up face you make after every pill is because you hate the bitter taste or if the tablets keep dragging against your already sensitive throat on their way down, but he strokes your hair all the while you wash it down with water, a gentle hand on your head as if to say You’re doing well.

He tucks you in bed not long after, despite your weak protests as he carries you to your bedroom.

“Oh my god,” you had managed to croak out. “I’m not that helpless.”

“I know,” came his response and a teasing smile. “Just let me take care of you for once.”

You’re pliant once you’re laid gently on the mattress though, idly watching Minho as he wraps the duvet around your shoulders and fluffs your pillows just the way you like. This is awfully domestic, he notes, and he can’t help but lean down and press a kiss to your forehead, not when he’s absolutely endeared by the way your tired eyes try to keep themselves open just so you could look at him.

When his lips leave your warm skin, he thinks he might’ve imagined the blush that colors your cheeks.

But he blinks, and you’re still flushed, your lips slightly parted as you stare at him, mild surprise evident in your drowsy gaze.

Something passes over the two of you, a kind of silence that he isn’t accustomed to when he’s with you. It isn’t bad, it’s just… strange.

One beat, then another. “Want me to stay with you?” he asks.

He knows you’d say no, and yet he can’t help the disappointment when you tell him, “You don’t have to. Go home, Min. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

“You sure? I can take the couch. It’s fine.”

“I’m sure. Chan and Jess said they’re coming to check on me in the morning.”

Minho lets out a hum, and purses his lips.

“What?” you ask.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you look like you want to.”

“Just… y’know,” he starts, gauging your reaction all the while, for any signs of physical discomfort or otherwise, “I like you like this. You’re not hiding when you’re like this.”

“You like me frail and on the verge of death?”

He rolls his eyes, pretends to flick at your forehead. “You know what I mean.”

When you giggle, it’s immediately followed by a wince, like the movement is hurting your sensitive throat. “Do I hide when I’m with you?”

“Sometimes.” He moves his hand to caress your face, gentle fingertips tracing the apple of your cheek. Surprisingly, you let him, if only for a little while. “It feels like you’re always ready to leave.”

“Are you worried I’m gonna run away?” you ask, covering your hand over his to move it away, but you still let his touch linger when you only lower his hand to your neck, where he starts twiddling your hair between his fingers. It feels like you want him close, close enough that it matters, close in a way that still lets you have control over how it matters. “I physically can’t. I’m sick.”

“Does that mean you’ll run away when you get better?”

You seem to ponder the question for a moment. You’re holding onto his wrist and Minho is almost certain that you can feel his pulse. He would do so many things for you if only you’d let him.

When you answer him, you keep things light but your tone is soft, gentle in a way that tells him your sentiment means more than the words you cherry pick on the surface.

“No, I have finals in two weeks.”

The first time that Minho gets to wake up next to you, nothing feels real. Not the pleasant scent of your shampoo greeting him the minute he opens his eyes, not your soft breath fanning his bare collarbone where you lay with your head tucked into the crook of his neck, not even the feeling of you in his arms, safe and warm, as though this is where you’re meant to be. None of it seems like anything other than a dream.

When memories of the previous night come rushing to the surface, it also brings back the annoyance he felt watching Yeonjun openly flirt with you at the party, and the bitter feeling that accompanied the reminder that Minho couldn’t even really do anything about it but stand idly by.

But you stir in his arms, and all of the annoyance and bitterness goes away. Because you’re here with him and not anybody else. There’s a certain ego boost knowing that he’s the one you kiss, the only one you allow in your most personal space. To know you is a privilege, and it’s one that you grant no one else but him.

Last night, something happened. Something changed, he felt it when you were the one who asked him to stay. You let him put his shirt on you, let him hold you as you slept, even welcomed his embrace and snuggled further into his body in a way that you’ve never done before.

How you kissed him just hours prior, how you looked at him… God, he thinks he could just spill all of his secrets if you did it again.

But when you open your eyes, Minho is already pretending to be asleep again. How would you react? He’s curious to know. Would you scramble away the second the realization kicks in that you let him break your rule? Would you leave his side and act all nonchalant about it when you inevitably have to face each other later? He’s willing to bet that you would.

But you surprise him again. He feels you watching him for a moment, then your touch ghosts upon his features. It almost makes him falter in his act, your gentle fingers tracing his temple, his cheekbones, the slope of his nose down to his lips. There’s a sigh that you exhale, and he misses your touch the very second it leaves his skin. He itches to bring you closer to him again.

So that’s what he does. Minho keeps the facade going, pretending like he’s now just waking up with his limbs stretching out. You stiffen when he hugs you tighter, but you soon relax after he starts stroking your hair.

Nothing has changed for him, but can you say the same?

“Dude!”

Minho flinches into action when a voice calls his name right by the car window, loud enough to startle him even through the thick layer of glass. When he turns his head, he finds Changbin’s face all pressed up against the window, struggling to hold three bags full of supplies that are threatening to spill out. “Help me with these!” his friend says.

It’s the week of Jisung, Felix and Seungmin’s birthdays; you lot tends to go all out for the quadruple birthday bash every year (Chan’s birthday is only 11 days later after all). Seungmin’s family has a lakeside cabin a couple hours from the city, that’s where everyone goes to unwind for a long weekend with plenty of food and even more drinks. This year, it’s no different.

Minho and Changbin are on drinks duty, tasked with picking up all of the alcohol and refreshments for the weekend ahead. He doesn’t really know what the rest are doing, just that you and Jeongin are babysitting Hyunjin to make sure the latter doesn’t deviate from the proposed budget and go way overboard when getting snacks and decorations. You sent Minho a text a while ago, a video of you facepalming and rolling your eyes before you flip the camera over to show Hyunjin and Jeongin bickering like children over a mega pack of chips.

Once everything is in the car – cases of beer safely loaded into the trunk, bottles of water and soft drinks set in their designated plastic bags in the backseat, Changbin comments from the driver’s seat, “You looked weird. You were smiling.”

Minho only stares at him for a moment, a neutral expression on his face as he blinks those typical Minho blinks, before he turns his head to the other side to lean against the window.

He was thinking about the first time your tradition started, the first year Jess had to drag you on the trip. She used to do it often; you were shy in the beginning.

He’s got a favorite memory of you, and it wasn’t you and him sitting together on the bank of the river during the sunset, while the others were in the water, splashing around and having the time of your lives (you two were the only ones who couldn’t swim, but it was okay, you didn’t feel like you missed out on anything because at least you had each other).

His favorite memory of you wasn’t running into you in the middle of the night when he went into the kitchen for some water and you were out by yourself on the adjacent balcony, sitting with your chin resting on your folded knees and the crescent moon for company. He stayed there for a moment, dazed, wondering if he was still dreaming or if it was just you. When Minho finally made his presence known, you told him you couldn’t sleep and he suggested that you break into Hyunjin’s secret ramyeon stash, because going to bed with a full stomach always made him feel better whenever he was restless. 1:58AM, you ended up almost burning your hand on the stove, too busy trying to keep your giggles down when he made a stupid joke.

Minho’s favorite memory wasn’t of you falling asleep on his shoulder on the drive back either, with you squished in the backseat between him and Felix, and your light snores reminded him of Soonie whenever the cat would doze off on his chest. It wasn’t any of these moments, even though he thinks he might’ve loved you in every instance.

His favorite memory of you was the evening before that trip had to come to an end, the last night you all spent together before you had to leave your safe little bubble. It was after dinner and some drinks, everyone was buzzed and the air was crisp, chilly every now and then. When you were gathered on the dock overlooking the lake, each holding a sparkler that Jisung had prepared, you were laughing. Everyone else was laughing too, but yours was the only sound Minho could focus on.

“Be quiet. I’m gonna take a nap,” he tells Changbin, ignoring the comment entirely as he closes his eyes. “Wake me when we get to Chan’s.”

The lights, and your friends, and the moon hanging high up in the sky like a guardian angel back then.

You were watching how it all reflected so beautifully in the rippling waters below. He was watching you.

“You really don’t see it, do you?”

His question hangs in the awful silence as you stare at him. Minho can see your nails digging into your palms where your fists are clenched, your glassy eyes and the frown between your brows, like you’re trying your hardest to hold back tears. Why else would you be so upset?

He’s known about it for a while, or at the very least, he’s had an inkling of how you feel about him. He knows he isn’t in over his head when he says there’s a certain glow that radiates from within you when you’re together, a side of you that’s tender and at peace, one that he’s never seen you show anyone else. The way you look at him, it’s the same way that he looks at you even if you don’t realize it yet, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it out loud.

It hasn’t been one sided for at least some time now, he knows it.

But it’s frustrating to watch you try so hard to fight it. He’s the only one holding on, and you’ve been willing to let go at every turn.

“See what?” you challenge.

This isn’t how he planned to ever say these words, but the moment is here whether he likes it or not. It’s staring at you both in the face even if you are doing your best to hide from it.

Minho holds your gaze for a few seconds before he steps toward you again. This time, you stand your ground.

“You asked me if things changed for me and I said no. That was the truth, I never lied to you. We’re friends but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you as something more from the beginning.”

He pauses there, watches your eyes and how you take it in. They soften a little, filling up some more as you process his words. There’s surprise in the look that you wear, sure. A little confusion, yes. But most of all, you just look sad. When you call out his name, he can tell by your tone that it’s a warning, that you’re about to run away for real this time if he presses on, and yet he can’t stop until he says his piece.

“If you want me to spell it out for you, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t remember what it feels like not to love you, and it drives me crazy that you don’t see any of it. The thing that makes me even crazier, do you know what it is? I think you feel something for me too, but you won’t admit it to yourself and you always resort to shutting down instead of facing your feelings. How much longer are you going to run away from me?”

When the first tear unintentionally spills over from the corner of your eye, Minho knows he’s struck a nerve. He wants to reach out and wipe away the tiny stream that rolls down your face but you beat him to it, wiping at your cheek in angry motions.

“You’re wrong.” Your voice is tight when you tell him, “I don’t have feelings for you.” It’s the only thing that you address.

Sometimes, he searches for your answer at the bottom of a glass, or on the other end of looks that seem to linger just a beat too long. But as he’s standing here, right now, he finds it in your hesitation to speak, in the lie you give him when you finally do.

It’s the answer he’s always wanted and yet, the knowledge brings him no satisfaction at all. It only lodges a lump in his throat, an overwhelming sense of dejection when he sees how hard you’re trying to fight this.

“I know you,” he sighs after a moment, a little defeated. “I know when you’re lying.”

“Maybe you don’t know me that well after all.”

You’re stubborn. You’ve always been stubborn.

Minho takes another step forward. It feels like it’s a step closer to the end as you both know it, because how else is your relationship going to come back from this? He sees the slight shake in your shoulders that you try to suppress, but he’ll always be the one to notice.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” he says quietly, his final resort. A challenge but it sounds an awful lot like a plea. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible that things can take a turn for the worse in just two weeks’ time. The last time you both were here, you’d kissed his endeared smile and held him so impossibly close to you. Now, everything is falling apart, the seams coming undone one by one. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me.”

Minho meant what he said, about how loving you drives him crazy sometimes. Even when you’re breaking his heart, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. A noticeable sting settles in between the cracks of his ribcage at the sight of your quivering bottom lip, your balled up fists and his own reflection in your glassy eyes.

“Do you want me to say it so badly?” you ask, and he can only stare at you when your voice comes out harsher than it was before, though it cracks toward the end as you try to keep up with the facade. “Fine, I’ll say it.”

It’s not what he asked, but it’s confirmation nonetheless. It’s acceptance but not how he wants it to be. Acceptance that you do love him, and yet, you say it in a way that he’s never expected to hear from you.

“I don’t want to love you.”

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lovecla · 1 month ago

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TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter five:

➴ chapter warnings: none!

➴ word count: 3.9k

💌 from me to you: honestly, today was a lot! i broke my phone yesterday and had to buy a new one today (i’m now poor :,) and i deadass forgot my email and i lost all of my works AHAH (quinn’s voice: it’s funny but it’s not funny). thankfully, i had already saved all of TYPA chapters here on tumblr so they’re safe and well. anyways, enjoy! 🤎

౨ৎ

2024, APRIL.

lavieenrose

Vancouver, Canada

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imgmodels That’s our girl!!!

౨ৎ

“SO QUINN Hughes is your childhood best friend?” Victoria sounded amused.

You chuckle. “Something like that, yeah.”

“What a small world we live in!” She raised her arm, making prayer hands. “God, if you’re out there, make my dream of fucking Luke Hughes come true.”

“Oh my God, you’re the worst.” You joke, watching as she winks at you, going back to her rambling about how funny it was that you and the Hughes were familiar with each other.

It was the week before your first official fashion show in Vancouver, and things were extremely busy. Today you and the other models had to visit the hall where the show would happen so you could practice your walk and get familiar with the runway’s layout.

Victoria wasn’t a model per se, even if she was one of the most gorgeous women you have ever seen, but she still made sure to be there with you so you wouldn't be totally alone.

The other models were nice to you but you were still extremely shy, and it usually took you a while for you to get used to new people. Thankfully, Victoria could help you just fine.

“But like,” she raises her voice again, staring at you funny. “Should I tell Gil to send the Canucks some invitations?”

You raised your brow at her, ready to say no. After that night at your house, a week ago, you and Quinn were… different. Being one hundred percent honest, you were different with Quinn. He was still the same as always, texting every day and asking about how you and Bella were doing, since he was away— again— and couldn’t check on you in person.

And you thought it was sweet.

Awfully sweet.

Dangerously sweet.

After the thoughts you had while he sat on your couch that night, thick thighs spread cozily across your couch, dress shirt opened and hair falling perfectly on his face, you decided that being away from him was probably the best thing you could do for your relationship.

“I don’t think they’ll be interested in coming,” you lie, shrugging. “It’s not like they’re interested in lingeries.”

“Hum—”

“At least not in the way you want them to be!” You quickly added, not letting Victoria’s mind wander to horny places.

“I don’t know about that, Mads,” she clicks her tongue, watching as the crew move around you both, lunch break already about to end. “We could invite only the single ones. What do you think?”

You laugh and joke: “I think that’s a great idea.”

Obviously, it wasn’t. Nothing about Quinn seeing you in lingerie was a good idea, but who were you to crash Victoria’s dream? Besides, the Canucks would never actually go to a fashion show unless they were forced to, so you had nothing to worry about.

“Okay, Madison, I need you to walk up there again.” Rory, the casting director called you, and you promptly got out of your seat to do what he needed you to.

And just like that your thirty minute lunch break was over.

౨ৎ

“THIS IS the day you all have been waiting for, girls,” James yells, loud enough to be heard by all the fifty girls standing backstage. “I need you all to shine today!”

You could feel your hands sweaty and your heart beating faster than ever. Today was the fashion show you've been preparing for everyday ever since you moved to Canada and watching it all unfold in front of you was anything but not stressful.

This was the first fashion show you did in months and you knew people were expecting something big.

“Madison,” James calls you, and you immediately go to his side, excluded from the other girls. He looks at you with his fierce, cat eyes and you almost gulp. “Today’s your night. The majority of the people are here to see you, they’re here to see Madison Carter. Do you understand that?”

You nod, blinking fast. “I do.”

“Great,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say this in front of the other girls because I don’t want them to feel bad, but having you here is pure gold, and the press is ready to put any mistake in a headline. So, can you be my prettiest flower tonight, baby?”

You smile, feeling confident all of a sudden. You had to remind yourself that you were pretty, even if sometimes your brain liked to tell you otherwise. People were here to see you, they paid money to watch you walk down that stage, and you’d give them a show.

You��d prove to everyone that you were just that girl. Even your own family.

“I can, J.” You confirm, shaking your arms slightly.

“Then great. You know when you have to enter the stage, don’t you?” You nod again, of course you did. You all rehearsed this so many times that it would be hard for you not to know. James turns around and starts speaking loud again, trying to talk to all fifty girls at once. “RAYE is here tonight and even though your job is to walk, I want you all to interact with her and her songs. I want you all on time and I want you all on your best behavior.”

Celestial Allure was the name of tonight’s collection, all of you wearing different shades of white, pastel pink, blue and purple, not to mention the tiny golden details in your hair and heels. Your makeup consisted in white eyeshadow, heavy eyeliner and big, angelic lashes. You had little to no blush in your cheeks, the focus on representing a pale, unreal face. Your lips had a natural pinkish color and you had highlighter all over your collarbone and nose.

Your opening outfit couldn’t even be called an outfit; it was simply a white, twinkle strap lace corset with matching panties, heels that adored your legs and reminded you of something Barbie would wear, your hair was perfectly styled with waves falling down like a waterfall.

You took a deep breath, the first notes of Escapism echoing through the entire place, and you knew it was the time for your entrance.

After saying a quick prayer, you enter the stage, immediately putting on your work mindset, not letting any of the hundred eyes make you feel nervous. One step and then another, your body moved alongside the music’s beat, RAYE’s warm smile and powerful presence making you feel less nervous. You made sure that your body was moving like James and Rory had instructed, lightly and featherly.

The camera flashes didn’t hurt your eyes anymore, thankfully, because there were so many of them that even if the building had dim lighting, the stage looked as bright as the sun.

“A little context if you care to listen, I find myself in a shit position,” you mouthed the words, walking down the stage like you owned, because, in fact— you did. “The man that I love sat me down last night, and he told me that it's over, dumb decision.”

You waved to some of the cameras, smiling from ear to ear, genuinely happy.

Even if it was a hard world, the happiness you got from modeling and wearing beautiful, delicate pieces like the one you were wearing right now was unbeatable.

Outfit after outfit, walk after walk, you made it to the end of the show, letting your eyes get shiny with tears when James grabbed your hand and walked with you to the end of the stage, raising your arm and bowing with you. You smiled, watching as people clapped for you and shouted your name.

Backstage, you ran around hugging the other models, all of you so emotional and happy. Your favorite part about working with La Vie en Rose was that they prioritized girls who supported other girls, and not girls who tried to get on top by dragging other girls, something that happened daily in the fashion world.

Victoria also hugged you, taking pictures and handing you your outfit change so you could talk to the press.

“Madison, Madison,” your name was on every reporter’s mouth, flashes and cameras being shoved in your face. You smiled through the uncomfortable feeling of all of your actions and breathing being recorded and pointed to one of the interviewers there, letting her speak.

“You were absolutely divine today. How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” you smile, shaking your head. “This is the first show I’ve done in a while and I’m still getting back from the high.”

“The crowd’s reaction was amazing. Did you expect such a strong response?”

“No,” you laugh, sincerely. “I am used to my supporters in Los Angeles but knowing this many people would show up here in Vancouver? It’s insane. But I’m grateful anyway.”

“Speaking of moving to Vancouver, what can we expect from your Canadian side?”

“Everything. I’m always open to new opportunities and signing a contract with a brand as special to me as La Vie en Rose can mean a lot of good things.” You move to the next reporter, who was almost shoving the microphone down your throat.

“What can you say about the Canucks team being here? Do you know any of them personally?”

That caught you so off guard you had to hold back a gasp.

“What do you mean?” You ask carefully, trying your best to keep your smile from falling. “The… Canucks are here?”

“You didn’t know?” The reporter scoffs. “We have players like Quinn Hughes, Brock Boeser, Conor Garland and Elias Pettersson in the audience.”

“Oh,” you say, moving your head to the side, trying to see something past that sea of cameras. “Hum. I didn’t know they were here. I think it’s, hum, great and… yeah.”

“Time’s up, fellas!” Victoria shouts, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you to the side. “The other models are right there, ready for your questions. Thank you all, bye.”

“Thank you guys, have a good night,” you say before heading backstage. You turn your head to Victoria’s direction, eyes doubled in size. “Did you know the Canucks are here?”

“‘Course I did. I sent the invite.” She answers like it was nothing.

“You what?”

“Well, basically it wasn’t me, it was Gil, but I was the one who told him to invite them— and why are you so surprised anyway? We talked about this and you said it was a great idea!”

“I was joking, obviously,” you shout-whisper, walking around the room with Victoria beside you. “You’re crazy.”

“Well, now they’re here and we have to greet them.” She smiles, walking around people with a gorgeous smile plastered on her face. “Hi, good night.”

You had to set your apprehension aside and greet the other people there, so many designers, fashion students and artists congratulated you and asked for pictures. You were happy people were as pleased as you about you moving to Canada and even happier to see that you had so many supporters.

“Oh my God, there’s Quinn Hughes,” Victoria whispers beside you, making you snap your head in his direction.

And there he was. Wearing a gorgeous, dark blue suit, hair slicked back and hands in his pockets, standing there like Prince Charming himself. He was surrounded by three other men, who you could only imagine were his teammates, chatting quietly with one of them.

“Let’s go say hi.” Victoria grabs your hand and makes her way to their little chatting circle, Quinn noticing you before anyone else.

His eyes held a different kind of feeling that night, with him eyeing you up and down. His eyes discreetly trailed your body, the tiniest smile adorning his lips when his eyes met yours.

“Maddie.” He said your name with that raspy voice of his, making you shiver internally.

You smile shyly, watching as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

“Hi, Quinn,” you greet him back, face warm with all the attention. “Hum. Hi, guys,” you greet the other men, as six pairs of eyes stare back at you. “I’m Madison.”

They all give you a cheek kiss and a hug, broad bodies embracing yours like a giant blanket. They introduced themselves, and you were right; they were Quinn’s teammates.

“This is Victoria,” you introduce your friend, who eagerly hugs the players as well.

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” She asks and you watch as they all laugh and nod.

The one you remember being called Conor speaks first. “Honestly when we got the invitation I thought it was really random. But it was actually fire.”

“Yeah,” one of them, Pettersson, you think, agrees, putting his hands inside his pockets. “The girls are pretty. You’re pretty.”

You ran your fingers through your hair, smiling and thanking them.

“We were just going out for drinks at a bar just down the street, do you want to join?” One of them— you didn’t remember the name— asks, and before you could even think of what to say, Victoria jumps in front of you with her eager yes.

You looked at Quinn, watching as he stared right back at you, pointing to the entrance with his head.

You all walked out of the event hall together, photographers going crazy with the flashes and you knew that besides talking about your performance that night, people were also going to talk about your proximity with the Hughes and the Canucks.

The other players chatted with Victoria in front of you, while you and Quinn walked behind them, close enough that your naked shoulder touched his covered arm.

“Aren’t you cold?” He blurts out of nowhere, and you smile, shaking your head no.

“Not really. I’m still coming down from the high from earlier.”

“You were amazing, Mads,” he praises you, licking his lips. “Never seen you like that before. Just… stunning.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, not sure why Quinn’s compliment made you feel better than if it were anyone else’s. “Did you like it?” Even though Victoria had already asked them this question, you asked it again, because you wanted to know what Quinn had thought of it.

“Yes,” he winks, smirking at you. “Yes, I did.”

“Great.”

You continued to make small talk on your way to the bar, underestimating how crowded it would actually be. Thankfully, there were a lot of Canucks fans there, and a group of random people let you stay at their table in exchange for a picture with their captain, Quinn, which he promptly took.

“Do you want to drink anything?” The handsome brown-haired fella, Garland, you think, asked you, a few seconds after you sat down.

“Let her breathe first, idiot,” you heard Quinn mumble beside you, making you laugh.

“Maybe a Sex on the Beach?” You said simply, not really interested in Conor’s flirting. He’s hot, but he isn’t Quinn.

Maybe it’s time for you to stop thinking that you can actually have anything with Quinn, you thought, feeling yourself deflate just a little.

“Freaky,” Connor answered, before moving to the bar with the other guys.

“You won’t drink anything?” Victoria asked Quinn, since he was the man who stayed at the table.

He shrugs. “I’m driving.”

“Oh, we love a responsible king,” she nods to herself, giving you an approving smile. What she was approving was still a mystery.

Quinn eyes you, silently questioning you where you’d found that girl, and you only smiled, raising your shoulders.

The rest of the team took a while to come back, something about the bar being too crowded, but Conor handed your cocktail and winked at you.

“So, Madison,” he starts, sitting in front of you. “Are you single?”

Boeser whistled while Pettersson laughed out loud, hitting Conor’s shoulders.

“You’re very straightforward, aren’t you?” You retort, roiling your eyes but smiling nonetheless. “But, yes, I am. I’m not interested in anything serious at the moment, though.”

“One step forward for Conie here but at what cost?” Boeser shouts, clicking his beer on the table. You can hear Victoria laughing with Pettersson beside you, and you seriously want to pinch her cheeks.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Quinn speaks beside you, and suddenly all eyes are on him, yours included. He seems to realize what he had just said because his cheeks turn a very light shade of pink. “I mean, with a face like yours, I’d find it pretty hard to believe that any woman would be interested in you.”

“Fuck you, Cap,” Conor gives him the finger, sipping on his beer before winking at you. “Maddie here knows what’s good.”

“Don’t call her that,” Quinn hisses and both you and Victoria share a stare with each other.

Thankfully, Vic’s really good at changing topics and after five seconds she got all of the Canucks players talking with her at the same time. Garland seemed to have forgotten about you momentarily, and you were thankful for that.

You turned your head to the side, staring at Quinn who looked like he was having the worst time of his life. You frowned.

“What got you so upset?” You whisper, watching as he stops staring at his water bottle to stare at you.

“I’m not upset.”

“This little thing here…” you place your finger between his eyebrows, watching the furrow disappear underneath your finger. “…tells me a different story. Was it Conor?”

“Why would I be upset with him?” He taps his fingers on the table, once, twice.

“I know that you don’t like it when people call me Maddie.” You tell him, smiling softly. You would never confess it to him, but you didn’t like when people called you that too. Quinn had been the first person to call you that, to give you a nickname, and you wanted to keep that one between you both.

“He just can’t keep himself inside his pants,” He admits, and you smile even wider, finding the entire situation entirely funny. “It’s not funny, Madison.”

“It is to me,” you rest your chin on your hand. “Well, I know he won’t get inside my pants any time soon.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, and, finally, you watch his face transform into something that wasn’t a scowl or a frown. “Good.”

You gulp and pray to God that he doesn’t notice the way your thighs slowly close together, your body clearly desperate for something. Something that anyone else could give you, but you wanted it from the only person who was out of your league.

But perhaps God wasn’t listening to you like He usually did, because the way Quinn’s blue eyes turned into a grayish shade before he calmly placed his right hand on your left thigh told you a different truth.

Then he somehow inserted himself back in the conversation, leaving his hands on your thigh for the rest of the night, while you tried to keep up with what they were saying but failed miserably since all you could think was how his hands looked so big on you that maybe, just maybe, some of his other parts would be big too…

You sighed, forgetting for a few seconds that you were in public. Being around Quinn made your head work in the wrong way and trying to get back on the right path was tiring and exhausting.

“Are you not having fun?” You scared yourself with how close Quinn actually was, his lips almost touching your ear.

“‘M just tired,” you mumbled, feeling bad for interrupting Quinn’s conversation, even if the rest of the people at the table were still talking animatedly between themselves. “And I miss Bella.”

You hear his breathy laugh beside you. “I miss Bella too. Come on, let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to,” you say, shaking your head slowly. “I’ll call a cab.”

“You’re funny.” he says before opening his wallet and placing two hundred Canadian dollars on the table. “Madison and I are going home.”

“Uh, well… bye?” You say, uncertain of what you should do. It seemed rude to you to just leave like this, but you also knew Quinn wasn’t backing up now, and you were telling the truth when you told him you miss Bella. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“The pleasure was all ours, baby,” Conor says, winking at you. “Come see our next game. We’ll save you and Vicky a spot.” You tell him that you will, and then you smile politely, kissing Victoria’s cheek.

“Do you want me to take you home?” You ask, and she turns the cutest shade of red, eyes staring at Boeser for just a brief second before turning at you again. Oh. “Alright. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” she winks, kissing you too. “Drive safe.”

You briefly hug the other players, wishing them a good night before you leave the bar with Quinn’s hand on your lower back, gently guiding you to his car. The drive to your house was quiet, with Quinn making tiny remarks here and there, but you were so close to saying fuck to all of your beliefs and kissing him that you realized that staying quiet was probably the best move.

It wasn’t like you thought Quinn wasn’t into you. You weren’t dumb, and you knew what the stares he gave you meant, but you also knew that what you had with him, your friendship, was precious and not something that happened to everyone.

Even if you’d just restarted seeing each other a short while ago, it was like you hadn’t stopped talking at all. He still took care of you like he did to young Madison years ago, and he still let you take care of him like you would’ve done if he’d stayed in your life when you grew up.

So risking it all just because you were horny? Not a chance.

“You’re so quiet,” he points out, making a U turn. “Do you miss Bella this much?”

You smile, resting your head on the window. “I do, yeah. But I’m also just tired. Today was a lot.”

“I was telling the truth when I said you were stunning, Maddie. You owned that stage. No one was looking at anyone else.”

“Oh, stop it, Quinn,” you tried to hide the fact that his compliments made you want to start running around while shouting his name. “It’s just my job.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, but didn't say anything else, what was probably for the better. If he complimented you again, you wouldn’t sure that you would be able to stay in your seat without climbing on his lap and begging him to fuck you.

Quinn parks in front of your apartment building and smiles at you, tired eyes shining like the moon that decorated the sky that night. “Want me to go upstairs with you?”

“No, no, it’s fine, I know you’re tired,” you bit your lip, fidgeting with your fingers. “Thank you for coming. And for the ride too.”

“I enjoyed tonight. We should… we should do this again.”

You smirk, playfully. “And invite Conor too?”

He groans, laughing softly.

“No, definitely no,” he shakes his head. “I know that dork already invited you but… if you want to come watch our next game, just give me a heads up. I’ll get tickets for you and your friend.”

“Only if we get to stay in that seat where we can watch the players beat each other up from up close.” You joke, watching as he laughs, wrapping his hand around his abs.

“Consider it done, M,” he blinks, an adorable smile adorning his face. “I’ll text you the details, alright?”

“Mhm,” you nod, removing your seatbelt and pushing your body forward, until you place a light kiss on his cheek, feeling his stubble softly scratch your lips. “Night, Quinn.”

“Bye, Mads.” he whispers, watching you leave the car and only driving away when he sees you enter your building.

You sigh out loud, trying to understand what the hell happened tonight.

౨ৎ

liked by vic_alonso, _quinnhughes, imgmodels and 828,023 other people

madisoncarter little dump from tonight. thank u all for coming 🌟 lavieenrose

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raye this show was yours. Prettiest woman in the world. Xx

vic_alonso we look soooo good in that pic babe

vic_alonso also lowkey wanna kiss u again

user1 vic_alonso 📸🤨

madisoncarter @vic_alonso ‘m all urs baby

user2 why is my husband liking this when he doesn’t even know how to post a picture without Jack’s help pls I need answers

user3 oh both luke jack and quinn liked this we are cooked

maddiecarter_updates We don’t know if we want to be you or have you 🙂‍↕️ stunning as always, queen!

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

#quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes angst #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #nhl x reader #nhl players #hockey #TYPA

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sixpennydame · 7 months ago

Text

dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 1]

Pairing: yakuza!Levi x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary:

Neo Tokyo, 2235. You’ve escaped the festering wasteland that is Earth for Mars, to a city where only the strong survive, and everybody has secrets. Taking on a job as a hostess, you woo the city’s elite, your smile hiding your own dark past. When your path crosses with Levi Ackerman, said to be the strongest member of the Ackerman yakuza clan, you’re not sure whether to consider him a friend or a foe. Because in this city, nothing is what it seems. And the past never stays buried.

Author's note: I will be using Japanese words and phrases periodically and will have a glossary of terms at the end of the chapter.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content, minors do not interact!

Chapter Content/Warning: mentions of blood, physical assault

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

Blood is thicker than you thought it would be.

A sea of dark red surrounds you, soaking your clothes and the floor around you.

Someone’s saying your name, but all you can hear is the thunder of your own heart beat.

“Hey. Look at me. Do you remember what I promised? That I was never going to let anything bad happen to us again. We swore that we would always be there for each other.

No matter what happens, I promise that I will protect you.

I’ll fix this.”

“Oi you alive? Can you hear me?” A voice said.

You snapped back to reality. Get it together. Don’t fuck this up.

“Sorry…could you repeat that?”

The person in front of you takes off their glasses and cleans them with the edge of their shirt. “I said, you’re obviously not from around here. Where are you from?”

You shift in your chair. You knew that you were going to stand out from the other inhabitants of Neo Tokyo the moment you arrived here.

“I um..I’m from Earth.”

Their eyes go wide. “Earth? That shithole? I didn’t know there were still settlements there. How did you even earn a ticket to get to Mars?” You open your mouth to reply, but they put their hand out. “Don’t answer that - it’s none of my business.”

Obviously your planet of birth has made you intriguing; hopefully intriguing enough that they’ll give you a job. They look you up and down like you were a science experiment. “And why would an Earthling such as yourself want to work here, at Club Azure?”

“I’m a hard worker and a quick learner. And I need to make money fast.”

“Mmmhmmm… you can definitely do that here, if the guests like you,” they smile, “and you certainly would be a unique curiosity.” Brown eyes gleam behind their glasses, “But why do you really want to work here?”

There’s a silence as you think about what to say, but decide you might as well tell the truth. “This line of work doesn’t require me to have Mars citizenship papers.”

“And there it is,” they nod, seeming satisfied with your honesty. “It’s true, we don’t really care about those things here. In return, we expect our employees to be…discreet about our clientelle’s information and other business that goes on here.”

“I can be discreet.”

“Is that so?” The brunette leans back in their chair and gives you another once-over, their finger tapping their chin. “You’re unique, and there’s a certain something about you… I’m certain the boss is really gonna love you,” they say out loud, more to themself than to you.

If they aren’t the boss, you wonder who is.

“Ok, you’re hired.” They reach their hand across the desk and towards you.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips; you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding your breath slightly. Your hand meets theirs and they shake it vigorously. “The name’s Hange Zoe. I run this fine establishment,” they say with pride. “And what should I call you?”

“My name is —“

Hange immediately puts their finger to your lips. “Nuh uh uh, you weren’t about to give me your real name, were you?” They click their tongue. “It’s best that you don't do that. If the authorities come skulking around asking questions, the less I know about you, the better.”

“Oh…I see.”

Seems that there’s a lot about this world that you don’t know.

“We need to give you a stage name. Let’s see..” They’re tapping their chin again. “…flower names are always a good choice. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Flower? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“Oh right..you’re from Earth. It’s been a ruined wasteland for a long time..I guess you wouldn’t have ever seen them. Not that we have them here, either..” Hange stands up from their desk and begins to pace the floor of the small, cramped office. “What are your interests? Any hobbies?”

“I don’t have any hobbies but..” a smile comes to your face, “..on Earth, I loved to look up at the moon.”

“The moon? Hah! That orb is just an exclusive country club for the rich and famous. If your goal is to get there then you have another thing coming.”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that. But when I was small, me and my si—” you stop. You’re getting too personal. Hange notices, but says nothing. “I mean, I would sit out and look at the moon for hours. I just wanted to escape.”

“And it looks like you’ve done that.” Suddenly Hange’s face brightens. “Luna! That’s what we’ll call you.”

They put their hand on top of your head. “Our little Earthling…let’s get you introduced to the rest of the group and get you dressed for tonight.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait…I’m starting tonight?”

“Do you have something better to do?” They wait for a reply, to which you give none. “Then follow me.”

You follow Hange through the winding, narrow hall as they open a non-descript door.

“This is where the girls get changed.”

They open the door, gesturing for you to enter. Steel lockers are built around the perimeter of the room, with dressing tables and mirrors on the other side. Around you are women in various stages of undress: some have just arrived and are in their street clothes, others are walking around in their underwear, and all of them stop at some point to look you up and down. You knew you were going to stand out when you arrived in Neo Tokyo, but in the cruel, fluorescent lighting, it’s blazingly obvious. Most of the women around you have adorned their bodies with tattoos, the ink under their skin glowing brightly, making some of the images seem to move. Others have augmented their body: shining metallic arms and legs, hair and skin in every color of the rainbow…

All of it is nothing less than extraordinary.

There’s nothing extraordinary about your appearance. Your body doesn’t have a single tattoo or piercing. Your skin, eye, and hair color are ones that you were born with; your ‘human-ness’ is clearly on display for all to see.

“Presenting the hostesses of Club Azure!” The women go about their business as Hange walks you around the room. “You’ll find I’ve curated a diverse group of females who cater to every kind of taste….alien, android, and humanoid. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

One woman, putting on makeup, scoffs at the statement. “And just who have you wrangled to work here now, Hange?” She turns around to look at you, her nose scrunching up and her lips turning downward in a judgmental frown. “Or should I say, what..”

“Now, now, Ymir, be nice. Everyone!” Hange claps their hands, “Luna’s just arrived from Earth and I need you all to play nice and show her the ropes. Historia! Find her a dress that’ll fit and let her shadow you tonight.”

A petite woman with golden, glittering hair and bright, shining blue eyes turns around. White tattoo ink glows under her skin, glittering like diamonds. “Of course.” She takes your hand. “Come with me, Luna.”

She leads you to a locker on the far end of the room and presses in a code. It opens with a clink. “This was Nanaba’s locker. I figure you and she are about the same size.” She pulls out a few items and holds them against your body.

“Was? Did she leave without taking her stuff?”

Historia looks away, biting her bottom lip. Apparently your question hit a nerve. “We’re not really sure, actually. She just…disappeared after work one morning, two weeks ago. We never saw her again.”

“You’re leaving out key information, Historia,” Ymir butts in, “she should have never started fucking that guy in the Ackerman clan. That got her killed, I have no doubt.”

“Ackerman clan?”

“Ymir…hush!” Historia nudges Ymir and attempts to push her away, to no success.

“You mean, Hange didn’t tell you? We are employees of Club Azure, but this club is “protected” by the Ackerman Clan, one of the most powerful yakuza clans in Neo Tokyo. Hange might own the place, but they pull the strings. Getting involved with them is bad news.” She gives you a foreboding look. “If you see them, keep your distance.”

“Are they in here often?”

“Of course they are. They’re always skulking around, checking in on their products.”

Historia clicks her tongue, a warning to Ymir. “They’re not that bad. Just smile, be polite, and pour their drinks and you won’t have any problems with them.” Ignoring Ymir's eye roll, she pulls out a dress and hands it to you. “Here, try this on.”

You start taking your clothes off, and the women around you stop and stare. Ymir laughs, and you notice that each of her teeth have been shaped to a sharp point.

“You’re just as normal as normal can be, aren’t you? Not a single augmentation.” She walks around you as you stand there, naked and bare as their eyes judge you. “All your…parts are…real?” she asks, lifting up your arm.

You pull away and grip the dress closer to you. “Augmentations are rare and expensive on earth.”

Ymir smirks and her carnivorous teeth flash. “Well…everybody has a kink. I’m sure someone will be interested in you.”

“Ymir, that’s enough!” Historia huffs, pushing the tall, freckled woman away. By then, you’ve shimmied into the garment Historia chose for you. The tight, red dress fits your form perfectly, falling off the shoulders and highlighting your collarbone and breasts. It’s long, but a slit cuts all the way up the top of your thigh. You’ve never worn anything so elegant.

Historia looks you up and down. “A little tight, but all the better.” She pulls you over to a dressing table. “Now for the finishing touches.” She takes out some makeup and starts applying powders and creams to your face. “Hange probably wants to keep you as human as possible, so we’ll keep it simple.”

Her version of simple was very different from what you were imagining, as she adorns your cheeks with pink blush and your lips with a dark red lipstick. Your hair cascades in waves across your shoulders.

When you look in the mirror you barely recognize yourself.

“Is that me?” you ask, touching your radiant skin.

“I just enhanced what you already have. Hopefully, it’ll be good enough.” She stands and gives you another once-over, crossing her arms. “You’re still gonna stand out, but surely someone will be interested in you.”

Ymir walks by and chuckles. “This is gonna be interesting.” You scowl at her while she smiles smugly. “See you two out there,” she says, before sauntering away.

Historia takes you by the hand and leads you down a dark hall. Music is already reverberating through the walls and you can hear voices and laughter amidst the clink of glasses, which amplifies as she opens the door.

The bar is dimly lit, illuminated by a ceiling with an array of twinkling lights meant to look like the night sky. There are tables and booths with plush upholstery, some meant for larger groups while others are more private and intimate. A small stage is set up in the corner with a holographic band playing, and on the opposite end of the room, a long drink bar manned by Hange and another bartender.

And dispersed throughout are men, some young, some old, but all well-dressed, sitting and drinking with a hostess or two.

“At a hostess bar, it’s not our bodies that are for sale, but our time and attention,” Historia says, leading you through the room. “They can request a certain girl, but otherwise, we are partnered with them as they come in.”

The two of you end up at the bar, where Historia gestures for you to sit. “For the time that they’re here, it’s our job to make the guest feel like they are wanted and important - we laugh at all their stupid jokes, listen to their problems at work or at home, or just help them to get their mind off things with conversation.”

Your eyes dart from table to table, taking note of the hostesses pouring drinks, laughing and leaning into their guests, playing drinking games, or having lively talks. One girl gets up and walks over to the stage, singing as the band plays a popular song that everyone at the table seems to know.

“And that’s it?” you ask. “There’s not…more…that goes on between the guest and the hostess?”

“You mean sex?” Historia leans her chin on her hand. “Hange forbids us having sexual relationships with our guests.” Her eyes dart over to Hange as they put some drinks on a tray. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely correct, my beautiful turtle dove,” they reply. “Prostitution can be procured at other clubs, but not at my fine establishment. You can flirt, make eyes, touch…” their bright eyes suddenly become serious, “but no sex.”

A wave of relief washes over you when you hear this. It’s overwhelming enough to know that you’ll have men ogling you, expecting entertainment and companionship. At least that’s all it’s expected to be.

While Hange busies themself with making another cocktail, Historia leans toward you and whispers, “It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen, though.”

That doesn’t surprise you; if a hostess’ whole job is to flirt all night long, at some point the lines must get blurred with certain customers. And you can probably make a substantial bit of extra money in taking a relationship beyond the confines of this club.

But that’s not why you’re here.

Hange pushes a tray of glasses and a bottle of alcohol across the bar to the two of you. “Ok, ladies, it’s showtime. Take these drinks over to table 12.”

Historia glances over to the table before taking the tray. “Ugh, it’s Lovof. Haven’t seen him here for a while.”

“Who’s Lovof?”

“A city councilman. We get a lot of politicians here.”

The two of you make your way to the table where Lobov is sitting with two other men. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress, feeling more nervous the closer you get.

“Just smile and pour drinks. I’ll take care of the rest,” Historia whispers, just before making it to the table. “Lobov! It’s been so long, I thought you’d forgotten about us!”

She slides into the booth next to Lobov, a true thing of beauty as she smiles and bats her big, blue eyes. Her skin sparkles even more under the dimmed lighting, making her look like a true angel.

You slide in on the opposite side, sitting next to Lovof’s colleagues, but neither of them pay any attention to you as Historia takes the bottle from its chilled container and pours the golden liquid into a sparkling glass. It’s only until Historia gestures to you that they look your way, a curious look on each of their faces.

“And this is Luna.” Historia’s voice is sweet and soft, matching her angelic persona. “It’s her first night, so I’m showing her how to be a good hostess.”

“Well then, she’s learning from the very best,” Lobov says, his snake-like eyes slinking from Historia to look you over.

One of the men squints, then takes off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. “This plain-looking thing? Where in the galaxy did you find her?” he comments with a crude chuckle before turning away.

They’re bored with you already.

Get it together.

Don’t fuck this up.

You swallow hard, then take the bottle from Historia and pour a drink for the two unimpressed men.

Smile. Put on the mask.

“The story of why I’m not augmented is quite a tale,” your voice drips with flirtatious intrigue, “but perhaps it’s a tale better left for our second bottle, when I’m a little less nervous.”

The man next to you raises an eyebrow as you raise your glass. “In the meantime, I want to know everything there is to know about you fine gentlemen.” You smile, eyes sparkling in such a way that they almost rival Historia’s. “Kanpai.”

Lovof’s looks of confusion change to amusement as he joins you in raising his glass, the rest reflecting his actions.

“Kanpai!” the table responds.

By the third bottle, everyone is buzzed and relaxed. The alcohol coursing through you is helping you to feel less nervous, and has given you a confidence you’d only pretended to have before. The man next to you, Gelgar, has completely forgotten his other colleagues and is focused solely on you, while the other two are enraptured by Historia.

The attention makes you uncomfortable, everything within you wanting to escape this man’s gaze. But this is your job, you remind yourself.

You’re not the same person you were on Earth.

So you mirror your fellow hostess, pouring their drinks and leaning forward as they tell you about an upcoming election. Most of the time you have no idea what they're talking about, but you smile and nod, feigning to be enraptured by their words.

You’re good at pretending. You’ve been doing it your whole life.

There’s a glazed look in the men’s eyes and Historia shoots you a glance that tells you it’s time for them to call it a night. As the two of you escort them out of the bar, Lovof suddenly stops, turning to you.

“My darling, you never told us - why are you not augmented?”

Ah. You forgot you’d mentioned that.

“Well…” you begin as you’re walking with them out of the club, “...my father was the leader of a cult and my mother was one of his many wives. It was commanded that his children never be augmented, as doing so would be an affront to God, who made the body. No needle or knife must ever blemish my skin.”

A smile crawls across his face. “Intriguing. Absolutely intriguing…” You feel his eyes rove over your body in a way that feels violating. “I’d like to drink with you again, Luna.”

“She would be honored.,” Historia says, placing her hand on your back and guiding you to bow with her. “Please come visit us again soon.”

You both deeply bow then wave as the trio drunkenly walk to the black vehicle that pulled up for them. Only until they are out of view do you both turn away.

Historia takes your arm. “That story…is it really true?”

“Does it matter?”

Historia lets out an angelic laugh. “I think you’re going to do just fine here.” She walks arm-in-arm with you back into the bar. “You did well for your first time, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I was nervous the entire time.” You allow yourself to smile - the first real smile you’ve had all night.

Historia’s words of praise flow through you as freely as the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve already consumed, both of them giving you courage as you stroll back into your new workplace.

This isn’t too bad, you think to yourself.

You can do this.

You carry a newfound boldness as you and Historia walk up to Hange, who is waiting at the door. There’s a concerned, serious look in their eyes, much different from the happy, go-lucky persona you’d initially met.

Hange pulls you both aside. “They’re back, Historia, and causing a ruckus. I’m sorry to do this to you and Luna, but will you two help with damage control for a few minutes while I call for some backup?” They press a small silver button on the back of their ear and walk away, not even waiting for a response. As if either of you had a choice in the matter.

You must have been too focused on your table’s patrons to realize the growing noisiness of the table in the center of the club. Now, it’s hard to notice anything else.

Even from across the room, you can sense the chaotic energy of the group, a stark difference from the customers you’d just said goodbye to. The men are much younger than Lovof and his associates, their tacky suits and bright hair colors a stark contrast to the politicians you’d just entertained. They slap the table and yell curse words at each other, earning sideway glances from the others surrounding them. Empty bottles of alcohol litter their table; one of the men tries to milk the last few drops from one, but when there’s nothing left, he frowns.

“Oi! Another bottle! Make that two!” he curls his lip in disgust as he looks at his comrades slumped around the table. “This place has the shittiest service.”

Your newfound boldness shrinks with each step to their table.

“We just need to get them to settle down and then get them to leave,” Historia whispers, handing you a bottle. “Be polite, but don’t let them manhandle you.”

You put the mask back on, smiling as you and Historia both sit on either side of the booth.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Historia says, her voice still ringing calm and clear.

An arm immediately wraps around your shoulders the second you sit down, pulling you forcefully into him.

“Look at this - two more! We must be getting the V.I.P. treatment today, boys,” a man with long brown hair and green eyes shouts over the rest of the crowd.

Ever the essence of politeness, Historia pours the alcohol, a superficial smile never leaving her face.

“It’s our honor to serve you here at Club Azure,” is her meek reply.

The two other hostesses copy Historia, just as you had done earlier, but behind their smiles are eyes that want to escape the situation as soon as possible. Although this is your first night and you still have much to learn, something feels different about this group of men; they are loud and arrogant, and their way of speaking is crude. It’s as if their entire goal is to make everyone uncomfortable. They continue to demand more alcohol and paw at the hostesses, downing bottle after bottle, their appetites insatiable.

All the while, the brunette man continues to clutch at you, his grip tight on your shoulder, keeping you from moving one inch. His suit reeks of alcohol and tobacco, and his breath is even worse when he finally decides to turn and speak to you.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

He’s young, and there’s a wildness in his eyes, warning you to stay on his good side.

You attempt to shift away from him, but his arm is stronger than it looks. So you put on the mask and smile faintly. “I’m new. The name’s Luna.”

Seeming to be the ringleader of the group, you hope that light conversation will keep him preoccupied enough for help to arrive.

Whatever help that may be.

“Lunaaaaa…” he repeats, his tone heavy and foreboding. “You’re a non-aug.” He shifts his attention back to the other men at the table. “Look at this - we got ourselves a non-aug.”

You assume that means you’re not augmented. Will it be an intriguing curiosity, as it was in Lovof’s case?

Or something far worse?

The men hoot and holler words that you aren’t familiar with, but you don’t need to be fluent in the Martian dialect to know the meanings of their slurs.

The other women look at you, brows knit, bodies frozen, each hesitant to intercede.

“Tell me, Luna,” his green eyes darken, moving down your body and stopping at the bare leg peeking out of the high slit of your dress, “is every part of you real?”

His grip on your shoulder grows even tighter as his free hand moves up your thigh. “Let’s find out, hm?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming to escape this man’s clutches. Your eyes flash to Historia, who attempts to stand up and walk to you, but is forced back down by one of the men. She sends you a helpless expression that even she is powerless to help you.

But you refuse to be powerless. Not ever again.

So you meet the man’s lustful gaze, and slap him hard across the face.

A look of shock sweeps over him, his pride hurt more than the sting in his cheek.

“Don’t you touch me,” comes your warning, willing your body and voice not to shake.

Time freezes for a moment, not a single person moving a muscle, until -

– the back of his hand cracks against your cheekbone.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what just happened, but before you can react, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Bitch.” He squeezes tighter. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” you manage to reply, despite the forceful grip on your cheeks.

His eyes fill with rage, getting even greener. “Nobody fucks with the Jaeger clan.”

“Oi.”

You hear a voice behind the two of you, cold as steel.

“Did you hear the lady? Hands off.”

You can’t move your head to see who’s talking, but your assailant does. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s about to fuck with the Jaeger clan.”

Suddenly a hand grabs the back of the man’s collar and yanks him up, his body flying over the back of the booth and into another table. There are a few screams but then the club goes silent as all eyes watch what’s transpiring.

Finally free, you look behind you to see a man in a navy blue suit. He walks closer to the other man, who’s scrambling up from the floor. There’s an incredible size difference between the two; this man in the blue suit is much shorter than the men that are now surrounding him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least.

Green eyes flash and the three other henchmen barrel towards the shorter man. It only takes a few seconds for two of them to be sprawled on the ground, barely conscious. The third grabs the lapels of his dark blue suit, but a hard knee to his groin has him joining his compatriots on the floor.

“Bastard..”

Now the only one standing, the brunette moves his hand toward the inner pocket of his jacket.

Something flashes into the hand of the smaller man. It seems to be a knife of some kind.

How did it appear so quickly?

“You pull out that piece and it’ll be the last thing your hand ever does,” the shorter man warns, his eyes laser-focused.

The other three men scurry off the floor and towards the club’s exit, but not before one of them grabs his friend by the shoulder. “Come on Eren, let’s get out of here. Your brother’s gonna kill us if this gets worse.”

The tall brunette man smirks then backs away with his hands up, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

“This isn’t over.” His eyes then flit to you as he straightens his suit jacket. “Fucking bitch,” he spits, before turning to leave.

It’s as if the whole club takes a collective sigh once the four men are finally gone. Historia is immediately at your side.

“Oh my god, Luna, are you alright? I’m so sorry..”

You can hear her words and feel her gentle hands touching your face, but all your attention is on the man standing before you. He buttons his suit jacket and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back the few strands that came loose during the scuffle.

“Thank you so much, um…” your words hang in the air, waiting for a name.

His steel blue eyes look into yours - not at your body, not at the bruise you’re sure is growing by the second - but deep into your eyes, before looking away.

It’s the first time you’ve felt someone look at you like you’re a person, not some oddity.

“Levi,” he finally answers in a low, cool voice. “And don’t thank me for doing my job.”

Before you can say more, he’s turned his back, disappearing into the darkness of the club.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Yakuza - Japanese mafia

Kanpai - cheers!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

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trippinsorrows · 6 days ago

Text

ltye: apologies

authors note: inspired by roman being roman on tonight's smackdown. it was a bit tricky to come up with a scenario to justify these people talking to roman like he's just anybody, so i had to keep some things vague.

words: 1.5k

warnings: none

The last thing Solana expected to walk into post grocery store trip was a shit show, but that’s exactly what she’s got.

The sound of arguing voices is impossible to ignore, all of them emanating from her husband’s office. Directing security to bring in the rest of the groceries and to leave them on the counter, she doesn’t hesitate to walk into Roman’s office, bypassing the knocking.

Sure enough, she’s met with her husband, his cousins and Sami Uso arguing down with each other. And not a single one of them seems to be listening to each other. They’re all just yelling and talking over each other, Roman, in a surprising twist, not being as loud as the other three.

But, he looks just as pissed.

If not more.

Despite having no idea what the source of the argument is, it feels immaterial as she intrudes into the almost circle they’ve formed.

“Hey,” she says it too low the first time around, forcing her to raise her volume for the second round. “Hey!” As Jimmy and Sami move towards each other, as if they’re about to progress to something physical, Solana is prompted her to move even closer, her hands raised, separating them. “Stop it right now!” She switches to Spanish, a natural thing that seems to occur when she's upset.

The minute, however, that Roman becomes aware of her presence, he’s gently pulling her toward him, away from the other three. She ignores that, instead asking in English, “what is going on?”

It’s probably a silly question, as she’s almost certain that it’s business related, and Roman has always been tight-lipped regarding a lot of things concerning his work. But, it’s hard for her to ignore this when the tension is literally palpable.

In another twist that she wasn’t expecting, Jey smacks his teeth, completely ignoring her question and directing his statement toward Roman. “Man, you trippin, Uce! You not trying to hear—”

“Keep fucking talking to me like that, Jey.” Roman sneers, Solana having to place her hand on his chest. More comfort to her than him, she’s sure. “I beat your ass once, I’ll do it fucking again."

“Listen, Roman, man—”

Jimmy scoffs,, moving closer to Sami, shoving him back. “Aye, wasn’t nobody even talking to you!”

Solana hasn’t the slightest clue when the roles reversed where Jey seems more buddy buddy with Sami than her husband and Jimmy. Regardless, that’s not important right now.

“You guys aren’t accomplishing anything,” she cuts in, shaking her head. Where is Paul? This is definitely one of those moments where he needs to be the voice of reason. “Just stop—”

“I’m not listening to this shit,” Roman snaps, Solana looking back at him as he moves away, turning his back. “We’re doing it my way, and that’s fucking final.”

“What’s the point of having us around if you just always do shit your way and don’t even listen to us?” Jey calls after him.

At that, Roman turns around, speaking from a place of visceral emotions. “Then fucking leave. I don’t need you. I don’t need any of you!”

Her eyes shut as she takes a deep breath. He doesn’t mean that. She knows him well enough to know that he doesn’t mean that. He’s just talking out of emotions. Not logic.

“Roman—” She calls after him, but he turns on his heel once again, slamming the door behind him.

Hand to her face, she refocuses on the men, directing, “just….just stay here. Let me talk to him.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Jey counters, looking just as done as the rest of the men. “Roman refuses to listen to anybody but his damn self, so let him deal with it by himself.”

Nothing about what her husband does should include him handling anything alone. “I’ll talk to him,” she repeats. “You guys stay here. D--don’t leave. Please.”

She’s not sure if they’ll listen to her, but she can’t focus on that right now. She’s instead walking out the office, trying to find her husband who she eventually locates in their backyard. Closing the door behind her, she watches how he paces back and forth, hands on his hips, facial expression hiding not an ounce of his anger.

She’s careful in how she approaches him, waiting a minute to give him some space. But, she can only wait for so long. “Roman….”

“Since when the fuck do I answer to them?” It’s a rhetorical question. She knows this, but it’s hard for her to not respond.

“I don’t think that’s what they meant, baby…..”

“I’m the Tribal Chief!” He gestures to himself, again, anger toward the situation. Not her. “I make the plays. I call the shots.”

“Yes, Roman, but that—that doesn’t mean you can’t at least hear them out.”

That interjection is what makes him stop pacing, makes him stop and look at her, really look at her. She sees the way his shoulders drop and watches how he diverts his gaze, apologizing, “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t…..you shouldn’t be involved in this.”

Probably not, but it’s too late to not be. “I–I don’t like seeing you guys argue. You’re….you’re better than that, Ro.” Because he is. Because this petulant, petty-like behavior isn’t like Roman. He’s a hothead, but he’s not childish. “I don’t know what this is specifically about, and it’s none of my business, but I do think you should–should talk this out. That everyone should apologize to each other….including you.”

At that, his eyes go wide. “Apologize?” He points to himself. “I should apologize to him?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Solana—”

“Roman,” she says it again, voice softening, lips pressed together for a second. “Please?”

It’s a tricky, manipulative thing. She’s learned that he can’t say no to her, and she uses that to sway him over.

And once again, it’s worked.

“Fine,” he relents, and she leans up to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you.” He only nods, still looking slightly irritated but walking back into the house.

Solana finds herself overtly relieved to be able to play at least a small role in the path to reconciliation. It fills her with pride that she carries with her as she goes into the kitchen to start putting the groceries away as well as get started on dinner.

With the twins and Sami over, she’s certain that they’ll be staying ov—

“I’m sorry that I ever let you waste my time with this!”

Solana closes her eyes. Her husband has to be the most stubborn person to ever walk this earth.

She closes the cabinet she was loading the canned goods in and moves towards the office, only for a flustered, irritated Roman to come stomping in said kitchen, rounding the island to stand in front of her.

“I tried, Sol. I fucking tried, but this is fucking stupid—”

“Roman.” She reaches up to cup his cheeks, holding his face so he’s forced to meet her gentle gaze. “I love you, but you are the single most hard-headed person I’ve ever met.” He cuts his eyes, but it’s an innocent thing. No maliciousness. Or disagreement. Verbally, at least. “I need—I want you to actually try.”

“I did—”

“Roman.” A small smile falls on her face, knowing. She knows him well enough to know they have very different definitions of trying. “If you’re not going to do it for yourself, or maybe not even me….” Solana drops one hand from his face to grab his hand, easily guiding and placing it on the swell of her belly. “Do it for them.”

Solana sees it so clearly. The immediate shift in his mood, his disposition, even his stance. Feels the way he subtly rubs her bump, an almost soothing thing for him. Like he’s being reminded of the lives they created, the two tiny humans who they will raise together, bring up the right way.

The exact opposite of what they received.

But part of it starts now, leading with the messages they want to send and lessons they want to instill.

Roman gets that. It’s evident in the way he nods subtly. Eyes closing as he leans over and kisses her forehead. “Thank you.”

Her smile is small but warm as she gestures to the direction of his office. “Go make things right.”

He just gives her one nod before walking off, and something tells her, he'll come back this time with the relief of having found a solution.

Solana finds herself rubbing her stomach, speaking to her daughters who continue to grow and develop day by day. “Your daddy’s a good man.” She sighs, adding on an almost quietly. “We’re just going to have to help him from time to time.”

She’s answered with a swift kick, prompting a hearty laugh and deepened smile.

#roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns oneshot #ltye things #arisnotebook

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bkgml · 2 years ago

Text

ex bf againnnnnn!

(cw! mentions of vomit but nothing descriptive)

i wish i wasn’t shadow banned so more ppl could see this cause i worked hard!! :(

————————————————————————

10:47pm

yn: hey

katsuki nearly dropped his phone.

“bakugou man, why’re you so quiet?”

bakugou sighed deeply, rolled his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak.

“uh it’s nothing. none of your business.” he shrugs him off.

but sero already made his way behind him.

“bro, yn texted you?!” he calls out.

dropped jaws from around him make the boy seethe.

“i told you to mind your business!” he yells.

ignoring his friends screams, kirishima sees through bakugous facade.

“you gonna text her?” he asks calmly.

bakugou meets his eyes and sighs again.

“probably.” he groans.

“dude, what the hell! you were torn up for months after that breakup!” kaminari pipes in.

but he’s already typing.

10:59pm

suki: why are you texting me?

yn: sorry if i woke you up

suki: you didn’t

yn: can i call you?

he pauses again and the boys have now made their way to surround his phone.

“you guys are like fuckin hyenas.” he frowns.

“are you gonna call her?” kirishima says.

bakugou takes a moment to think before groaning and getting up.

“it could be an emergency.” he mumbles out before opening the door to kirishimas room to stand out in the hall.

*incoming call from ‘suki’*

your breath catches in your throat before you make your shaking thumb press the answer button.

“hi.” you speak shakily.

you pray he chooses to ignore the upset tone in your voice and he does.

“hey.” he replies calmly.

“um. were you asleep?” you ask.

“no, i was with the idiots.”

he hears you laugh lightly through the speakers.

“why’d you text me?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“well, i uh.” you laugh again, a habit you have when you’re nervous.

“i don’t feel well.” you say.

he pauses and starts tapping his foot.

“how’s that my problem? i’m not your boyfriend anymore.” he says, sounding meaner than he intended.

you sigh shakily and he can practically hear the tears forming in your waterline.

“yeah, um… i know that. it’s just i really can’t sleep.” you mumble, afraid of his reply.

“what do you want me to do about it?”

the pause is long before you speak again.

“god this is so embarrassing.” you whine, letting an uncomfortable laugh slip through your lips.

“just say it, alright?… it’s fine.” he says quietly.

“okay um… can i sleep in your bed with you? we don’t even need to make contact or anything.. i just feel like shit and it’s so hard to sleep without you.” you whisper.

he takes a second to think over his answer. if he’s being honest he was hoping you’d say something like that. he hasn’t had a good nights sleep since you broke up either. but on the other hand you’re broken up. he shouldn’t be doing this.

“are you still there, kugo?” you interrupt his train of thought.

he breathes deeply though his nose and blinks away some tears that are trying to form at the use of the nickname.

“uh yeah. just thinkin.” he replies, shakily.

“you really don’t need to let me. i only asked cause i’m really desperate and we didn’t end on terrible terms, you know?” you say quietly.

he rakes a hand through his hair and sighs.

“how bad is it?” he says.

“huh?”

“is it just a cold, or what?” he confirms.

“oh um, i have a high fever and i keep throwing up. sorry if that’s gross i just know you don’t get sick because of your quirk. i can’t ask any of my friends they’ll get sick.” you say.

he groans deeply while pinching the bridge of his nose. you guys are broken up, why does he still care?

“meet me outside my dorm in 5 minutes, and im not doing this shit again.” he mumbles out.

he hears you whine and sniff, feeling a tug on his heartstrings.

“thanks, kugo.” you say as your voice wobbles.

“don’t keep me waiting.” he replies.

the two of you hang up and he groans at the thought of having to tell the idiots.

he opens the door and steps inside.

“hey, so what’d she say?” kirishima asks.

“nothin. i’m going to bed.” bakugou grumbles.

“you sure?”

“yeah, fuck off.” he says as he steps back outside.

he heads back to his room and steps inside.

he made sure to get here before you so he could clean up some things he’s not so proud of.

the framed picture of you he’s never taken off his desk, the small bottle of perfume that rests on his nightstand and your shirt that sits on your side of the bed.

he can’t sleep on your side anymore.

he stashed them all in one of his desk drawers before hearing a knock on his door.

“here goes.” he whispers lowly to himself.

he opens the door to see you standing there.

face red and covered in tear stains, bed head, deep eye bags, lips plush and bitten and his hoodie draped on your form. you’re biting your nails, another habit you have when you’re nervous.

“hi.” you say with watery eyes, bringing the sleeve of his hoodie up to wipe the tears that are threading to fall onto your cheeks.

“hey.” he says, pushing the door open wider.

you step inside hesitantly, before getting a waft of nausea and sprinting into katsuki’s bathroom.

“yn?!” he calls, running after you.

he finds you hunched over the toilet.

“hey…” he says, walking over to you and kneeling beside you.

he’s hesitant but he does start to rub your back and clasp your hair in his hand to keep it out of the way.

“it’s alright, let it out. katsukis here.” he says, soothingly.

“hurts…” you whine.

he chuckles quietly.

“i know, swe-“ he cuts himself off, praying you didn’t hear the beginning of the pet name.

you sit up once your done and he sees fresh tears sliding down your face.

“that was a nice icebreaker, huh?” he smiles while he wipes your tears.

“oh yeah, me throwing up. great icebreaker.” you smile back as you lean into his touch.

“better now?” he asks.

you nod slowly before your face crumples up with disgust.

“i still have your extra toothbrush, come on.” he says as he helps you up.

you steady yourself once you’re on your feet.

“thanks, kugo.” you smile brightly.

he has to turn away from your bright smile and your cheery nickname.

“let’s just get you in bed.” he replies.

he waits for you to brush your teeth. while you were together he’d be doing it for you, you sitting on the counter with your legs around his waist and your hand holding his.

he blinks away tears that haven’t even formed yet at the thought of how things used to be.

“bed?” you ask sweetly once you finish brushing your teeth.

he nods and resists the urge to bring you by the hand into his bed so he can hold you until you feel better.

he walks into his room and heads into his bed.

he pats your side of the bed and you bite your nails again before slipping under the sheets with your ex boyfriend.

you turn towards each other but make no move to touch each other.

“you tired?” he asks when he sees your drooping eyes.

you nod and wipe your tears with his sleeve once again.

“why’re you crying?” he asks.

you sniff and snuggle deeper into the sheets of his bed.

“im sorry i made you take care of me.” you cry.

he lets a sigh through his nose.

“i know.” he says and he doesn’t resist the urge to cup your cheek to comfort you.

you whine and lean into his hand again.

“get some rest, yeah? katsuki’s here.”

he’s here. you’re okay.

you repeat those phrases in your mind as you close your eyes and drift off into a calm sleep.

once he knows your asleep he presses a lingering kiss to your head as he finally lets a single tear fall from his eye.

11:37pm

kirishima: hey bro, why’d you leave so early?

bakugou: none of your business.

kirishima: don’t tell me she’s there

bakugou: shut up.

kirishima: bro

bakugou: even if she is here it’s none of your fucking business

kirishima: im just saying you wore torn up for months about her

bakugou: it’s not like we fucked. she’s sick.

kirishima: are you sure?

bakugou: yes now fuck off.

he puts his phone back on the nightstand and ignores the buzzing of his friends protests.

staring up at the ceiling he sighs before he feels rustling from beside him.

you make your way from beside him to resting on top of him with your limbs tangled with his.

he inhales a shaky breath as he wraps an arm around you and kisses your cheeks.

he feels you hug him tighter and he stiffens.

“miss you…” he hears you mumble.

he pauses.

“miss you too, baby.” he calls out in the silence of his bedroom.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x yn #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

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chishiyasleftnut · 8 months ago

Note

I love your writing smmmm <33 could you do chishiya with girlfriend who suffers from anxiety? (Social anxiety) one and kind of introverted type?? Thank youuuu.

Hi there! Thank you for your support and request (-^〇^-)

This one is really short, but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please let me know if you’re fine with the occasional short fic! Life has been quite busy lately as I’m both moving apartment and writing my bachelor’s thesis, so I haven’t had much time and energy to write for this blog, sadly.

Nonetheless, I managed to finish this cutie! I hope you’ll enjoy it ( ღ’ᴗ’ღ )

(It wasn't planned, but there's no gendered language regarding the reader, so this time it's a gn!reader story!)

Silly Thoughts

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Warnings: None! Pure fluff. Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader.

Plot: gn!reader suffers from social anxiety, leading them to cancel an event hosted by Chishiya’s work. Chishiya, who does not understand anxiety, tries to figure out why and attempts to help gn!reader overcome their anxiety.

1090 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“I just don’t feel like it.”

For the past week, your mind had been filled by nothing but the big event you had agreed to attend. Chishiya, your boyfriend, had been invited to a seminar run by the hospital he worked at - invited was a kind word, as it was definitely not voluntary whether or not he attended. Luckily for him, he was allowed to bring a guest, giving him a tiny sliver of hope that he wouldn’t be completely bored out of his mind.

“Why not?” Chishiya asked while tying his tie in the mirror. He had never understood why you were so anxious about social gatherings. Sure, he didn’t like them either, but he wouldn’t say he was anxious about them. Annoyed would probably be a better word.

He watched you in the mirror as you fiddled around with your hands, trying to come up with an excuse that could be somewhat believable. As always, you didn’t meet his eyes when you were anxious. He had yet to figure out why, but his best guess was that you were scared he could read your mind or something.

“I don’t feel like it today,” you repeated. “I feel sick.”

“Sick?”

Chishiya turned around to face you, immediately springing into his well-known role as a doctor and taking a few steps closer to you before putting his hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. Just as he suspected, you didn’t have a fever. You were, however, shaking enough to hit a 6.5 on the Richter-scale, trembling as if your body was the epicentre of an earthquake.

“Why don’t you want to go?” he asked again, his hand moving around your face as he continued to feel for a fever.

No reply came out of your mouth, your eyes glued to the floor. With a gentle finger on your chin, Chishiya raised your head, so you were looking him in the eyes. You were expecting him to look angry that you were trying to get out of a promise; to be pissed that you didn’t want to do this one thing for him; but he didn’t look mad. No, quite the contrary - he looked… concerned?

“Tell me,” he insisted again, his tone softer than you’ve heard him before.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, no words coming out as you tried to figure out how to explain to him what was wrong. Your own fears felt silly to you and admitting an irrational fear like that to someone as chronically logical as Chishiya felt like defeat - even though he was your long-term boyfriend whom you loved dearly. Surely you should feel open with him at this point, no? So far, he had yet to belittle any of your thoughts, no matter how small and irrational they were. He was safe and you knew that.

“I don’t like big crowds.”

“Really?” your boyfriend asked, sounding slightly confused. Chishiya had never suffered from any type of social anxiety. Mostly he just found unnecessary social interaction bothersome to deal with - not anxiety provoking. “Why not?”

“I’m… I don’t know. I’m scared people will talk to me and I won’t know what to say, or maybe I’ll fall flat on my face in front of everyone and they’ll laugh, or I’ll-“

Chishiya interrupted you with a finger on your lips and a small chuckle, slightly amused by the way your brain was spinning itself into death, circling around every hypothetical scenario.

“That won’t happen. You’re intelligent and very much capable of walking without falling over your own feet.”

“But what if I’m not?” you asked with a small voice, almost sounding like a child.

Although Chishiya was still smiling, you didn’t feel as if he was making fun of you. Instead, it was clear that he just enjoyed getting a glimpse into how you worked. From the first time you met, Chishiya knew that you and he were very different people, and truth be told that was what he loved about you the most. You were almost like a puzzle to him - a constant riddle he couldn’t wait but solve. He was almost itching to figure you out, excited by the way you were led by emotions instead of logic like he was.

“Okay,” he finally said after a while, his hands immediately working on loosening his tie. “We’ll stay home. I’ll call and tell them I’ve gotten sick.”

No words, not even ‘pure and utter relief’, could adequately describe your facial expression. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding, immediately feeling ten times calmer and lighter at his words.

“But,” he continued while placing his tie on the table and slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt. “You’re starting therapy for this.”

“Therapy?” you asked, now sounding slightly anxious again.

“Yes, therapy. You can’t avoid crowds forever, you know? I’ll help you find someone who can help you with this.”

Chishiya’s eyes darted all over your face as you took in his ultimatum. At last you decided that potential therapy sometime in the future was way less scary than the concrete social event you were otherwise forced to attend. Hence, you nodded and accepted his demand.

With his white dress shirt open, Chishiya pulled you into a hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead, pausing with his lips pressed against your face to savour the serene moment. You allowed yourself to melt into his embrace, letting the remnants of his aftershave travel up your nose and overwhelm your senses, effectively grounding you in reality and melting away every lasting remain of the anxiety that had previously paralysed you. All that mattered right now was him - not some stupid medical seminar. Crisis averted.

“You know,” he finally said after a minute of silence. "You can always tell me if something is wrong. Even if you think it’s silly.”

“I know, I just feel stupid admitting silly stuff.”

A sharp exhale of air huffed out of Chishiya’s nose and travelled over your forehead as he half-chuckled at your words.

“You can be silly without being stupid. You’re never stupid.”

For a few seconds, you let his words calm your mind. You didn’t want to admit it, but that was exactly what you needed: to know that Chishiya didn’t find you to be unintelligent just because of the way your anxiety was dictating your life at times. You felt Chishiya’s lips graze your forehead again, sealing in his words and cementing them in your mind.

You are never stupid.

#aib chishiya #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya #aib #alice in borderland #chishiya x you #chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland chishiya shuntaro #shuntaro chishiya x you #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya x fem!reader

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talesfrommedinastation · 8 months ago

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My redneck neighbor Doug watches 'Bad Territory'

As a few people have quickly surmised, the Bad Batch episode in which they go to Space Swampy Badtimes and punch gators was going to send Doug over the edge with joy. Y'all right!

So, turn up the CCR to 'Born on the Bayou', and prepare for some of the more unhinged things Doug's texted me.

CW: Little more mild, just excitement. When Doug starts rambling about Cajun food, just click here. He says it's one of the best places for boudin and bbq and they'll even process a deer you found on the highway.

------------------------------------------------------------

Episode 8: “::happy Cajun noises::”

Well we back in Space Daytona, outside the HMS Search Warrant because Daddy Rambo can’t afford a trailer now. Does that thing have air conditioning?

Man, Toaster Strudel’s always gone, is he a space trucker now or what.

Oh, man, it’s Church Lady! She don’t seem too upset by Ryan-from-Accounting being somewhere else, fighting the Space Balrog. But we know why she’s not sad.

(Does this involve Mayday?

"Who?"

Sassy Park Ranger?

"Hell yeah it does! He’s her beau."

What about Ryan-from-Accounting?

"I done told you once I tell you again RYAN-FROM-ACCOUNTING DIDN’T DESERVE THAT SMART INDEPENDENT WOMAN NONE!")

Maybe Daddy Warcrimes will hang out with Church Lady and she can double dip with him and Sassy Park Ranger. It’s Thanksgiving, dark meat and white meat are on the plate.

(WTF?!)

Well you know why Church Lady’s the Church Lady? She’s been talking to other church folks and if there’s one person who knows how to get info on people it’s the church ladies. Seriously, how do you think they organize EVERYTHING and know EVERYONE. You think they go to church for Jesus that’s a bald lie up in here.

So Julio fires up the stolen work truck and he and Daddy Rambo are off.

Wait, if that’s their home, where Little Orphan Blondie and Daddy Warcrimes sleeping? The beach? Come on now.

Aw, shit, man, is that THOTH STATION?! Meat Muffin, these show people reading your white trash love story book and made it into reality! They owe you MONEY GIRL! Think they’ll meet Fred Johnson or Anderson Dawes?!

And look it’s CAMINA DRUMMER!

Oh wait no that’s that Chick-that’s-in-Everything! Looks like she’s doing business with the guy Han Solo shot in the club. Think she’s selling him Columbian nose candy?

Well she’s drinking a whole thing of pinot, don’t blame her, I’d be drinking if Daddy Rambo was up in my club whining for names. Go on the Facebook, Daddy Rambo, it’d be easier.

They’re off somewhere else to help the Chick-that’s-in-Everything. OH MY SWEET TITS OF CHRIST THEY IN LOUISIANA AGAIN! IT’S AN OIL REFINERY! No one can breath! They got a PONTOON! Everything’s orange and sticky!

Oh look at them out in them stinky bayous of Terrebonne Parish! Man did they film this entire season in my home state like it’s the first season of True Detective now I wonder. Man that was a good show.

Aw man, mines in the water! It IS TERREBONNE PARISH! “He won’t expect us,” damn right he won’t. The Chick-Thats-In-Everything sure knows her shit. She’s a redneck hunter and the lady’s got grit. I wonder if she’s caught Steven Segal.

There better be OH MAN IT IS!

SPACE GATORS!!!!!

YEAH! PUNCH EM JULIO! SHOOT EM CHICK-THAT’S-IN-EVERYTHING! OH DADDY RAMBO GOT CAUGHT BUT JULIO PUNCHED IT TOO! PUNCHING GATORS AND THROWING KNIVES AND SHOOTING GUNS IN THE BAYOU, MEAT MUFFIN I LOVE THIS DAMN SHOW!!!!!

The only bad thing about this is now I need to go back to Thibodaux to Bourgeois and get some crawfish boudin, maybe some cracklings, some hogshead cheese too.

Daddy Warcrimes is doing that thing where you sit around and breathe. Jenny tells me to do that. I’m like woman I do that every damn day at work what’s the difference now.

They’re at the place–it’s a shack in the woods surrounded by home made bombs and the owner’s armed to the teeth?! MEAT MUFFIN THEY GONE DONE AND FILMED IT AT MY COUSIN CLAYTON'S HOUSE IN TERREBONNE PARISH NOW!!!!

Oh man it ain’t my cousin Clayton whose been weird since he got out of Angola, now they’re hunting Jeff Goldblum from The Fly! Except now he’s a mantis! Hate those things. Jenny set one on fire after she caught it snapping at one of her hummingbirds. That woman, man, you don’t mess with her garden, she’ll take out the hairspray and a lighter and make a torch out of it. Love her. Married two dozen years now.*

Oh! Jeff Goldblum is trying to escape–but the Chick-That’s-In-Everything knows her shit and cuts her own wire to the pontoon! Maybe she IS Camina Drummer after all.

Oh, man, they done got that mantis son of a bitch. Now, back to Thoth Station, and of course, the Chick-That’s-in-Everything ain’t coughing up a dime. Just flings Daddy Rambo right off her ship.

Oh, man, who is she calling?

I hope it’s not Gun-Safety-Muppet, I hate that blue bastard.

*= Jenny is a delight and really does flip from ‘Sweetie, you need to meditate’ to ‘I will set bugs on fire for threatening my birds’. She’s the one who taught Jimmers to corner and kill everything in their yard.

@skellymom @cdblake1565 @sued134 @amalthiaph @yeehawgeek @merkitty49 @eyecandyeoz @isthereanechoinhere96 who else loves Redneck Doug?

If you want to be added, please let me know!

PS- I have his ramblings from the last two episodes, but they were not nearly as deranged as this.

#tbb #cloneforce99 #thebadbatch #the bad batch #redneck doug #cajun doug #doug the neighbor #oh doug #he was so happy guys #so happy #tbb omega #the bad batch season 3 #clone force 99 #fennec shand #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter

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soft-teddybear · 2 years ago

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ateez - gifts they’ll give their s/o

genre: fluff

cw: none that I’m aware

summary: Christmas special! What would ateez give to their s/o as a christmas present and why.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction made for entertainment and from my point of view of the members.

members under the cut.

seonghwa: thootless plushie.

he wanted to give you something to keep you company while he went away for his activities, but he wanted to be original and after thinking about it for long he finally got it: a toothless plushie with recording of his voice saying different things like i love you, stay safe, take care. seonghwa also made sure that the button was har to get while cuddling so it won’t scare you at nights if you press it by accident, he also got matching scarfs for the three of you so it could be part of your family.

hongjoong: personalised bag.

he would buy a bag of your favourite color and decorate it using things you loved: lyrics from your favourite songs, meaning full dates or things that remind you of special occasions or events in your life, everything to make it more you. for someone that didn’t know you most of i wouldn’t make sense, but you knew the meaning behaving everything and were surprised hongjoong knew you so well. the big was a big art piece of everything that represented and made your personality and it included things that hongjoong loved about you.

yunho: favourite drink gift card.

call it coffee, boba, regular tea, yunho know what you love to drink and that you drink it lots, so he thought of a gift card, but a normal one was boring so he went big. yunho got a membership card and added money to it, the equivalent of a drink for each week of the year, that way he could “invite” you for a drink even when he was away or busy whit his schedule. that isn’t stoping him from paying your drink every time you go out, no, he still pays saying that this way the gift could last longer.

yeosang: gaming set.

most specific a keyboard and headphones, you liked to play online video games with him when you couldn’t see each other, it was like a long distance date but your sent wasn’t the best and it caused problems. so yeosang helped you build your own gaming set by giving you part of it, on your favourite colours of course. that wasn’t the only reason thought, he wanted you to have a set that would also motivate you to do your school work and study and he loved your company while gaming so it was a win-win situation, a gift for the both of you.

san: matching jewellery.

he wanted to give you something to remind you of him even when he was away on tour or really busy to meet you, and he also wanted it to be discrete so he could use it on his daily life with out getting too much attention so a matching set of a necklace and a bracelet was. they has each other’s birth stone, so you’ll have san’s and san has yours, it was an expensive gift but he really didn’t cared because he wanted to feel you close and four you to feel the same but in a more discrete and fashionable way.

mingi: big coat.

it was an inner joke, you always steals his hoodies, jackets and coats because you “were cold” but in reality you just wanted to be hugged by his warm clothing full of his smell, so he bought you a big coat that matched most of your clothing, with a little extra gift inside a pocket: a bottle of his perfume. that way you could ad it to the coat or any other thing you wish that smelled like mingi. he made sure you knew you could still take his clothing but that he wanted to help you build your own style and maybe keep most of his coats to himself in the process.

wooyoung: photo album.

printed and decorated lots of pics of his favourite memories with you, all of them takes by him, the album was almost full of beautiful memories and had some empty spaces for you to fill them with your favourite. the decoration was so pretty too, some doodles, stickers, quotes and detailed that brought even more life to the images, they were really amazing and you almost cried while looking at it, because it was almost full because both wooyoung and you loved every single time you spend together, ben if it’s not really planed.

jongho: big teddy bear.

went extra because it’s dressed and smells like him. once you told him that you missed his cuddles, you were particularly needy that day so the statement came out dramatic, but jongho took note so when Christmas was near and he looked out for a teddy bear big enough to wear human clothing and bought him an outfit soft enough to cuddle with, he then spend lost of nights cuddling with the plushie and adding his perfume so it’ll smell just like him on the day he’ll give it to you. said day came and you cried a bit when you opened it because it was the most perfect gift.

n/a: Rosie Christmas gift, sorry if it’s a mess but i had to rewrite the whole thing besucase i lost the original and i was sad. thank you for supporting my work this year, it was really one of the highlight and it makes me really happy.

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starythewriter · 6 months ago

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THOR X reader - first time I saw you

I opened the door to razer & gold data, entering

The bright white building grabbing onto a sliver handle and opening the door I walked through seeing captain America… I quickly got pulled side by Natasha, “here I need you to look thru this file… there seeks to be a comprise in our data records…. The DA seems to have tempered with them”

“Alright I’ll get on it” I said smiling and sitting next to her, she got up to take care of some errands, I quickly opened the flies reviewing everything.

I noticed how much days got reacted. Seems like it was all in preparation for some sort of lawsuit or court case.

I quickly got out my laptop and decided to wire a detailed report, “here I need you to talk to Jessica jones… we had our teamwork but as time went on she…. Started to work under the DA.”

I quickly walked over to a telephone, bumping into captain america, “I’m sorry sorry sir-“

“It’s alright. Dont worry here for your trouble” he said handing me a 20 dollar bill. I took it and smiled saying “thank you so much”

I walked forward. Seeing Thor… the infamous Thor I’ve always dreamed of seeing him he had a short sleeve shirt his biceps were bulging out.

I focused on Jessica, dialing her number…. I waited and waited untill she didn’t respond. I walked back to my desk quickly finding contacts but out of nowhere the telephone rang, I walked back over, feeling annoyed that our current telephones were down… only a couple worked now.

“Hey is this Jessica”

“Yes this is. And I already know who’s calling we have a lot of business to discuss but for now. I’m sending you a transcript along with files for a lawsuit”

“Wait wha”

She hung up before I could say anything I decided to walk back over seeing Thor… I turned around but Natasha was gone.

“Hey… i need to speak with you”

Said Thor. He looked at me very sternly I gulped and sat down near his desk. “What do you wish to speak about”

“Jessica. Why are you trying to contact her”

“I wasn’t” I said keeping eye contact. But Thor was persistent I didn’t know how but he very much knew what was going on.

I was too focused on the situation at hand however I had intrusive thoughts here and there about how hot he was.

“I know you were”

“How” I said shocked. Out of nowhere Natasha appeared “we need to talk” she said to me. I quickly got up and left walking with her to her office seeing a deal… “what’s this?”

I said asking confused reading through the prospal. “It’s a bribe the former company, who for awhile was co founded and owned with owners wants to buy us out-and their saying they’ll reinvent our server system to hold and keep data safe. However it’s a bribe and definitely not something that can be trusted look at paragraph 12C discussing the limit of funds and money meaning we would be tied to there restrictions especially money wise”

“Well then don’t accept it”

“I won’t but we need to tread carefully. DONT tell Thor untill further notice I need to find out the consequences.”

“Alright. Also I have intel I’ve had that they are very close with the governer and considering the company got framed for fraud, they can freeze back all of our bank accounts along with data. You know that they can also request data”

“That may be true. But I’ve got this under control. As for the data,I will be changing models into something that makes the data temporary and I’m doing with the DA along with CISA. To formulate a strong data rework along with protections against any crimes Or misdemeanors they can throw at us”

“Alright. I’ll gather more intent. I’ll make sure to see what I can find for orders as if they are going to request all days then it must be thru the DA, FBI and authorities.”

“Hey. Was that about Jessica and the old company”

“It’s none of your business Mr.hemsworth.”

I walked away shutting the door to my office. But Thor came in, “I need to know” “why” I asked rolling my eyes. I felt a little warm… but I didn’t mind it. “Stop acting like a baby. I need to know because I have some files on how to avoid any backlash including the freeze of our bank accounts and primary drafts into our manufactured convictions.”

“Fine. Here I have this file I’ve been keeping the most important information.”

“Thank you” he smiled “and no need to pout” he said teasing me. I walked up to him accidentally pressing against his crotch… “sorry-“ I said he stared into my soul. “It’s not a big deal” he laughed it off. We laughed together, he was so handsome… “come with me” he said. Leading me to one of the backrooms. “WOW so many dresses” I said happily “oh these would look good on you” I said being flirty. I knew I had feeling for him. “So tel me a bit about yourself Thor” “well I’m a businessman… looking for adventure. & despite what others say I’m great in court. I have a lot of law firms along with great hires and teams to maintain the private data that the US citizens deserve”

I smirked loving his deep and smart mind “wow… that’s umm… hot” I said gulping. “Wait here” he said I waited meanwhile imaging how he’d look in that outfit and out of nowhere he was wearing a very sexy summer shirt with shorts… I stared seeing all of his beautiful muscles and features. I tried to hide my blushing “we should get back to work”

“Are you sure” he said grasping my hand before I could leave as he stared into my eyes kissing me as his eyes closed I got onto the black sofa behind me and slowly enjoyed his kisses along with with moans. I slowly kissed his biceps as I unbuttoned his shirt.

I was already so beyond in love with this man nothing else mattered. I was ready to devour him. God knows I would. I kissed him again making him moan my name.

He slowly kissed me not forcing me into anything I felt so safe with him I slowly decided to take off my suit and undress. He kissed my tits making me moan loudly. “Don’t be so rough” I teased slowly taking his shirts off and immediately grinding against his cock “you can’t enter yet” i moaned out feeling too overwhelmed by his giant muscles to care about what happened at this point”

“He moaned “please… just do it already” I moaned allowing him in I rose up slowly riding his cock. “No more unless you swear something to me”

“Anything” he said smirking “are you sure” I said riding his cock slowly “yes- yes for sure anything”

“Give me 50% of the company” I said staring into his soul seducing every blood cell he had and already making him produce cum “now you know I can’t” he couldn’t speak as I went faster “fine then leave me alone” I said getting up but he grabbed “ fine here I’ll get you the papers”

“Good” I said smiling kissing him as I rode his cock while he handed me the papers I went faster as I rode his giant cock and thick muscles signing onto my fair share and with that I seduced my powerful boss and slowly become a owner of his company “Iove you so much” I said riding him faster kissing him as he kissed me and submitted to my will “your so fucking good-“

“Do you fuck every new person at the office?” I asked stopping myself depriving him of any and all sexual contact. “No- I promise you you’re the only one-“ “that better be dam right” “so bold of you to do this to not only your boss but a god.”

He smirked fucking me as I ride him “one that easily falls for any pretty girl”

“Not true. You’re the first…”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“The first one entirely love and cannot get enough of” he muffled. I moaned slowly

Climaxing onto his cock as he coated me with all the cum he had.

“Fuck-“

“Thank you.” I moaned grabbing the papers and walking out while leaving my cum on his bicep, I cleaned up and left. Knowing that he was unsatisfied but I wasn’t ready for him truly. However next time I’d stick with him a lot

Longer.

The end

#send in concepts #smutty #smut #thor x witch #thor odison imagine #thor x y/n #thor odison x reader #thor x you #thor x reader #thor ragnarok #thor smut #thor the dark world #thor odinson #thorki #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you

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novasintheroom · 8 months ago

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102. Hands

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Part 1 ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 (you are here!) ---- Part 4

Don and Mac mutter to themselves across the fire. Their eyes are glazed with booze, gold and murky in the light. They’ll be out soon.

Good. You’ve had about enough of them today. Some bodyguards you are, getting drunk on the job. You shuffle your papers in your bag, carefully tucking the most vital into a hidden pocket of your overalls while they aren’t looking. They’ve been eyeing your stuff more and more each day. You suspect they’d either been hired by a rival or got it into their thick heads to make off with your findings for themselves. They’ll probably try to take the cartography drawings – and your equipment – soon. Time to switch gears and figure out a way of escape. You sigh and palm at your eyes.

It’s the way these things go. Hard to find good help these days.

Well, almost.

You look off and see the dark, purpled coat of your third bodyguard in the near distance. Vash had placed himself near the cliff’s edge, sitting and staring into nothing for the past half hour or so – messing with that pretty blue hand of his. You can vaguely hear the clinking of metal on metal, and you stand and move before you can talk yourself out of it.

The dark rocks crunch under your boots. You pick your way over the landscape. Vash doesn’t seem to notice you, but that doesn’t mean anything. He has a way of knowing things.

“Aren’t you cold?” You say in greeting. Vash’s shoulders bunch and he turns with surprise. You suspect it’s a show; he must have heard you coming long before now. Still, you stand beside him and wave. “Sorry, I should have been louder.”

He sighs and lets out a chuckle. “No, I was in my own world. Glad you pulled me out of it.” He blinks and says, “And no, I’m not too cold. Got the coat, remember?” He pulls at the red thing as a show.

“Hm, hard to forget it.” You smile when he bashfully laughs and rubs his neck. He’s cute.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

You feel bolder than usual tonight. Maybe it’s the knowing you’ll have to leave soon that lets you sit beside him instead of shying away. Vash watches you curiously. You give him a nervous smile and ask, “What are you working on? I can hear it from the fire.”

His own smile comes easy. He holds out his tech arm, grabbing at the wrist with his flesh one and rotating it. “Just calibrating the arm. It was a little out of sync earlier in that gun fight.” He sees the way your eyes shine at the old tech. Throwing caution away, he asks quietly, “Do you want to look at it?” His smile grows at your eager nod, moving his hand closer for you to grasp.

You take his hand gently. It’s cool to the touch. You aren’t sure why you expected it to be warm. You flip his hand over in your own, looking at all the grooves, the intricacies holding the joints and “bones” together. “This is…incredible,” you breathe. True old tech. The likes of which you haven’t seen since…Your fingers trail up to tap at each of his own tips. It follows all correct anatomy designs. There’s no give to the metal like there would be to skin. You thumb over his palm. His fingers curl slightly at the sensation. “Is…can you feel that?”

Vash nods. “Not as much as my other hand, but I can feel the pressure.” He watches your hand brush his, eyes soft. “Can feel it too when a wire gets pinched.”

You see them when he says it – nearly-microscopic lines running through the opaque metal. Those must be the wires, the “nerves.” What a fascinating piece of technology. “How do you do the upkeep for this?” You don’t even want to guess the fortune it takes to do so.

He shifts then and smiles vaguely. “Ah, I know a guy. Really good with tech like this.”

“Who? I thought I knew everyone who deals with old tech. I’m sure I would have heard about their work if they were making this!”

“Aw c’mon, you can’t know everyone. World’s a big place! Besides, I’m not in the business of telling secrets. Thought that was more your field.”

You hum. Despite his claim, you do know everyone – even the shady ones. He’s dodging, but you suppose that’s fine. I’ve only known you for two weeks, you remind yourself, and release his hand. Vash takes it back. The look on his face is gentle. He is gentle. Not often you find someone like him.

You feel your cheeks flush and look away, grateful for the dark. Darn you and your flash crushes. “Well, thank you for letting me look at it. It’s beautiful.” Your courage shrinking, you stand and dust off your pants. “I’m going to bed. Are you taking first watch?”

He nods. “I don’t think the other two can really…” he trails off and gives a sardonic smile at Don and Mac. They’ve both passed out, snoring loudly into their chests.

See, he was paying attention. You smile and wave. “Let me know when it’s my turn.”

A trailing ‘goodnight’ follows your heels. You head back to your sleeping bag, careful to check inside for any worms that may have decided to make their home there tonight. Finding none, you crawl in and face toward the fire, away from Vash.

What you don’t see is Vash rubbing his hands together and lacing fingers through fingers.

Your own hands rub together. The feeling of Vash’s metal hand will chase you into your dreams for nights to come.

#vash the stampede #trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #writing #self insert #reader insert #vash x reader #nova writes #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #150 Bullets

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honeyjars-sims · 9 months ago

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2.15 Voices Carry

[As Chantal makes her way to Nico's office, she overhears him talking to Ambrose about Kayla Flemming. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she stops to listen]

Ambrose: This whole thing has just been an absolute nightmare. I knew that bitch would become a thorn in my side at some point.

Nico: Well you can’t expect classy behavior from low-class individuals like Kayla.

Ambrose: I don’t see how you dated her for so long.

Nico: Me either. Well, she did pretty much anything I asked. Until she started getting mouthy with me. I lost interest really quick after that.

Ambrose: Well, you dodged a bullet. So, what the fuck do we do?

Nico: I don’t know, I’m kind of at a loss. How did she even find out?

Ambrose: That’s what I’d like to know. The way she was talking, she has to know something.

Nico: Maybe she has someone on the inside.

Ambrose: I wouldn’t put it past her. I’m just worried this will escalate to an official inspection. We’re not prepared for that. We need to make sure no one finds out that the ingredients don’t match what’s on the label. I knew we should’ve stuck with the old seller. He was a bit pricier, but at least his shit didn’t cause reactions.

Nico: Well, I gathered all the documentation I could find for any purchases that could arouse suspicion. Unfortunately I'll have to wait until the paper shredder gets repaired before I can dispose of them, which won't be until next week.

Ambrose: We should be ok until then. You have them secured, right?

Nico: They’re locked in my desk drawer. No one has a reason to go in there, so it should be fine.

Ambrose: Good. Well, if we’re shredding documents, they’ll need to be replaced with something. If an inspector comes, we need to have something to show them.

Nico: Already on it. I have Chantal writing some receipts for me.

Ambrose: The social media girl? What did you tell her?

Nico: Oh, I just said the originals were damaged and I needed them rewritten for tax purposes. You know, she reminds me of how Kayla was when we first met. Believes anything I say and does whatever I ask. It’s been fun.

Ambrose: Ugh, you’re not fucking her, are you?

Nico: [laughs] You know me too well. Don’t worry though, I’ll be done with her soon. I’m already getting bored.

Ambrose: I really wish you’d stop fucking around with these college students. I know we don’t keep them for long, but it’s going to come back and bite you in the ass one day. We don’t need to worry about this one, do we?

Nico: She does ask a lot of questions, but I just have to give her the puppy dog eyes and flatter her a bit. Then she's eating right out of my hand.

Ambrose: Hmm, we could use her as a scapegoat. She’s already on everyone’s radar after that whole review business went down. It would be easy to deflect some of the blame onto her somehow.

Nico: I thought about that, but I do need her. Like I said, she does whatever I ask, and she is good at the job. I’ve had her doing work that’s way above her pay grade for a while now and she’s none the wiser. Saves us from hiring some graduate who expects a high salary.

Ambrose: I guess if you need her we’ll have to think of something else then.

[We see Chantal heading towards the exit looking upset. She makes a text]

Chantal: [texting] Hey, it’s Chantal. I think I’m ready to meet with you now.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

#well she can't justify this anymore #hopefully whoever is behind the email can be trusted #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #sims storytelling #simlit #stksafeharbor #sh:chapter2 #sh:chantal #sh:ambrose #sh:nico #safeharborstory

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starlitiris · 5 months ago

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The Feeling (part 1)

wrote this a few nights ago while I was in a spooky mood and ended up having to split it into two parts because it was too long </3

Here's part 2

SUMMARY: Reader is just an average person living a normal life, then Feitan moves in next door. He gives you an unsettling feeling, and eventually you find out why.

WARNINGS: mentions of torture, implied torture

You’d always felt like something was off about him.

You weren’t even really sure why.

Was it something he did maybe, that made you feel this way?

No. If that was the case, then you would know what it was.

Sure, he was a little antisocial and said strange things sometimes, but that wasn’t enough to warrant feeling unsettled by him.

You could never figure it out, so you just decided to ignore the feeling. You shouldn’t have.

For a while after he moved in next door, he was very standoffish to the surrounding residents.

You gave him a few days to settle in before you decided to go knock on his door. You wanted to welcome him to the neighborhood.

He didn’t answer.

But you could hear him inside.

Didn’t like being bothered, you guessed.

A few weeks later, you ran into each other in an aisle at your local bookstore. It seemed you both had similar taste in books.

Horror.

You wanted to wave at him, maybe say hi, but he didn’t even bother looking at you. Perhaps he just didn’t notice that you were standing next to him.

You minded your own business until you saw him picking up one of, in your opinion, the most underrated books of all time. It was your favorite, but you felt like you were alone in that.

You’ve read many reviews of the book online, and they all had negative opinions on it. ‘The ending wasn’t satisfying, that flashback added nothing to the overall story, this character’s actions didn’t make sense, blah, blah, blah.’ They just didn’t get it.

None of those people saw the point that the author was trying to get across. Nobody understood how significant that flashback was, or how that one character doing what he did made sense because of it. If only they read between the lines. And because nobody could look beneath the surface, they didn’t get to see - or feel - how powerful the ending was.

But you digress. You try not to get too worked up about these things. It is just a book, after all.

Your neighbor seemed interested in what the summary on the back of the book had to say.

His apparent interest excited you, so you finally said something to him.

“That one’s really good,” you blurted with a smile.

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“I highly recommend it. It’s one of my favorites.” You gleefully added.

“Hm.” Was all he responded with.

It’s okay. He bought the book. You were happy.

About a week or so later, you ran into him again. This time at the food market. You weren’t going to bother him again, but this time he came up to you.

“Hey,” he started. “I finished the book.”

You smiled hopefully. “So… what do you think?”

You know he’s probably just going to say the same thing everyone else says, but you wanna stay optimisti-

“Was good,” he said, a faint smile gracing his lips. “I really liked it.”

Your eyes lit up in joy. Finally! Someone you could appreciate your favorite book with!

“Really? I’m surprised! Most people don’t like it. They’ll complain about all the ‘meaningless backstory’ and how the torture scenes were written.” You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes at the stupid critiques people have on this masterpiece.

“That so?” He asked. “Thought it was well written. Felt real.”

“I thought so, too! Though, it’s not like I have any real experiences to compare it to.” You laughed at your silly and obvious admittance.

That smile.

That was the first time you got the feeling.

The feeling that something was wrong about him.

But it was just a smile. He was talking to you, and seemingly enjoying your conversation. Don’t be ridiculous.

That’s what you would tell yourself.

From that point on you two started waving at each other or saying hi when you’d cross paths in town.

Every time you met in the bookstore, you would give each other recommendations on what to read next. Sometimes one of you recommended something that the other person had already read, and you would talk about it. Your favorite moments, little critiques you had, how the story made you feel. It was nice. You felt like you were making a friend.

Eventually you boldened up and asked him to come over for dinner.

Honestly, you expected him to decline.

But he agreed to come over.

So he did.

And he kept coming over.

You were glad you could call him a friend at that point. You really did enjoy each other’s company.

The more time you spent together, the more you would learn about him.

You learned that he has a friend named Phinks. You found out he likes horror movies, too. He doesn’t like pets. He never cared much for music. He’s a little short tempered, and he collects knives.

You liked learning things about him. But, oddly enough, the more you learned about him, the less it felt like you knew.

You couldn’t get him to tell you what his job was. You think he’s on a graveyard shift, though. There’s been a couple times where you woke up in the middle of the night needing water or the bathroom, and you saw him out the window. Dragging something into his house.

You couldn’t tell what he was dragging in the dark, but it looked big.

No idea what that could’ve been.

You asked if you could hang out at his house once, wanting to know what his place looked like.

He made it clear that wasn’t happening.

The look he gave you was indescribable. It gave you that feeling again.

He said no, and you decided not to push. Maybe he just likes his space. That’s not hard to understand, right?

Sometimes you would hear noises coming from his house.

Strange noises.

It never sounded like what you would expect to hear. Like floor creaking, dishes clinking together while being washed, voices from a tv.

Though, sometimes you can definitely hear when he’s watching a horror film.

‘He must have really good speakers connected to his tv,’ you would think to yourself. ‘The wailing almost sounds too real.’

But those strange noises were always impossible for you to distinguish.

Sometimes they sounded… wet. Heavy. Something about the sound sent chills down your spine. You didn’t hear it often enough to complain about it, but it was definitely disgusting.

Other times it sounded like a thick crack, like something breaking. Though, you couldn’t imagine what.

There were nights when you heard crack after crack.

You thought that whatever he was doing in there, he must’ve enjoyed having on a horror movie while he did it.

You often heard muffled cries and pleas while he… did his thing.

You wanted to ask about it. But you didn’t.

Maybe a part of you was scared to.

Or maybe you just didn’t deem it important enough to bother asking.

Either way, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t. Or perhaps you would’ve ended up here sooner, and not by your own volition.

“Here” being in Feitan’s house.

#hunter x hunter #feitan portor #feitan #feitan x reader #feitan x y/n #phantom troupe #hxh #hxh x reader #hxh x y/n #this is not romantic #you will not be smooching him

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kaeyas-beloved · 2 years ago

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Voicelines: Diluc’s Birthday

Characters: Jean, Rosaria, Kaeya, Diluc, (Y/N)

Summary: Some people have some things to say in regards to today…

Genre: Fluff/Mild-Angst + Snippets

CWs: romantic Diluc x gn!reader & platonic for everyone else

a/n: I really enjoyed doing this for Kaeya way back when, so I decided why not do it for Diluc too :D

Jean

"When Master Diluc was a young boy, he, Kaeya, myself and (Y/N) would travel to all sorts of places. Our destination changed as the years went by but whenever it was Diluc’s birthday we found ourselves returning to the same place each time. Ah, I still remember how freeing the breeze felt. It doesn’t have to be on that same mountain ledge, but I hope the four of us can spend time like we used to."

Rosaria

"It’s none of my business, but I sometimes spot him by the cathedral’s graveyard late at night. He just comes around more often today than any other. Whatever happened must’ve left a mark on him. If it’s the reason why he is the way he is… then maybe I can see where he’s coming from.”

Kaeya

“Master Diluc is ever the popular one today, isn’t he? More so than usual. What, you don’t know? Oh, traveler, today’s the grump’s birthday! Why don’t you go give him your well wishes on his special day, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

Diluc

"Kaeya said what? Hmph, of course he did. He doesn't know when to stop talking sometimes. *sigh* Yes, it's true, today is my birthday. Another year has gone by yet nothing changes. Oh you know what I mean, nothing changes about me specifically. At least that’s what it feels like. The only difference is that this year (Y/N) will be celebrating with me. It’s been a while since they did and knowing them they’ll want to make up for those missed years. It’s… somewhat exciting. I can’t wait to see what they have planned.”

(Of course, being with them is enough of a present. The best I could ever hope to receive)

(Y/N)

"We actually shared our first kiss on his 17th birthday.

Heh, bet you didn’t know that Traveler. We’d already been together a few months back then, taking things slow with one another, and I thought it would be a good gift to give. Archons you should’ve seen how red his face was! Needless to say, he liked it.

…I thought that Diluc was long gone. I thought that I’d have to relearn how to love a completely different man after he came back. In some ways I did. At the same time though he’ll still blush so bad his ears fade into his hair if I catch him off guard, he still has the kindest heart I’ve ever witnessed and he’s as strong as I remember, protecting everything he loves. I want to protect him like he protects Mond, like he protects his friends, like he protects me. It's the bare minimum he should get after everything."

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @stage-lucida // @irethepotato

. . .

Wanna be tagged in future works? Consider filling out this form! And if you want to be removed just DM or send an ask into my inbox!

#diluc x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #aprilluc 2023 #aprilluc #genshin impact

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lawliet-ryuzaki-ryuga · 2 years ago

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chapter 12

H X H ( ILLUMI ZOLDYCK)

CONTROL

WC: 1341

TW: none really

A/N: I'M BACK BITCHES!!!!!! sorry for all the typos

masterlist

Chapter 11-- chapter 13

When taken back into the blimp with the remaining contestants, you’re told to just rest up until the next part of the exam comes in. With that you walk around and explore around until you catch the two young ones, Killua and Gon. You watch as they joke around and sit next to one another, looking out the window before them. Listening to their conversation and when Killua tells Gon that his parents are assassins and the destiny that was mapped out for him. You could see the look of shock and confusion over take young Gon when Killua describes wanting to get rid of his parents.. Hearing Killua speak so enthusiastically about the bounty the world might have on his parents.

Oh how you remember your own thoughts of your parents when you were his age, Oh how you wanted to get rid of them yourself. Sometimes it was all you could dream about. As always your thoughts come to a stop when you feel a presence behind you, though they tried to conceal it, you can already tell the familiar Aura behind you.

“ Hello Gittarackur.”

“Hello.”

You turn around to face the pierced man with not much of a smile to give, “ Stalking me i see.”

As always he is a man with few words, not much to share or say, but will always provide you with his presence. You turn back to face the two boys and that’s when you sense another person in the room, the chairman… What does he want with them? Slowly you pull out your small hair pin, in case you must attack the chairman, wanting to make sure Killua and his friend that he has made are safe at all costs. But to your surprise the chairman invites them to a game and if they win, they’ll be hunters on the spot. With that the boys walk away with him getting ready to play.

“ Why do you wish to protect those boys?” Gittarackur speaks from behind you.

“ It’s none of your business.” you glare at the man and begin to walk away, but he follows right behind you.

“ But I can tell, you would give up your spot if it meant protecting them, foolish of you. If they cannot fight for themselves they aren't worth saving.”

“ don’t tell me you're threatened by those two.”

“ Not at the very least.”

I laugh at his response and walk to your sleeping area, you notice that many men sit around the floor and look at the both of you in what looks like possible fear.

“ All of you get up and leave.” I command them, but they all look at you as if you’re joking. With a small huff I pull out your pin once again and just before you're gonna aim for someone, Gittarackur stops you.

I look at Gittarackur as to why he stopped you, but he had already pulled out his own needle and aimed it at all of the individuals in the room.

“ Leave the room now and don’t come back.” he instructs in a very firm tone. A tone I’m all too familiar with..

“ I could have done it myself.”

“ I’m Well aware Noa.”

“ Then you should have let me.”

“ I wouldn’t have been a gentleman.”

I let out a scoff at that comment and make your way to one end of the room and sit down. And begin removing all the pins from my hair. And massage any parts of my body that ache.

“ So Gittarackur, do tell me, do your needles change your appearance?”

“ No.”

“ Lies,

“ Maybe so, maybe not.”

“ So tell me Gittarackur, what is it that you do for a living, or why do you need a hunter's license?”

“ For work.”

“What work is that?”

“ None of your business”

“ But here’s the thing Gittarackur, you’re in my presence so I’ll ask again, what work is that?”

“ a mission.”

“ Gittarackur save you and I both the trouble and elaborate before I make you against your will. I look at him like im giving him a warning, and then turn back to examining my nails. Hmm they need some filing.

“ I’m what one would consider an assassin.”

“Hm really? I haven't seen your work, you must suck at it then.”

“ No, I just don't leave a mess behind.”

“Who said i leave a mess behind?”

“ Considering you and Hisoka get along rather well, it says alot about your style i suppose.”

“ He is an interesting one, but you’re friends with him, thus the same conclusion can be said about you.”

“ I don’t like any types of mess.”

“ i know you don’t.”

“ What?”

“ nothing Gittarackur, we should get some sleep.”

I go ahead and stretch my body before laying on my back and shutting my eyes in hopes to get some rest. But I don't hear Gittarackur shift or make a single sound.

“ Gittarackur you should rest, you’ll need it.”

“I don’t need it.”

“ We all need it, just because you were trained to not need it as often, doesn't mean your body doesn't require it. Now don’t be stupid and get some rest, besides if you’re really an assassin you would have been trained on the tunnel sound, you do know what that is right?”

With that Gittarackur huffs, “ Yes I know what that is, I just like to be alert.”

“ Just say you suck at the basic skills of assassination, obviously you haven't mastered that skill.”

“ I wouldn’t speak of things you don’t know about.”

“ Well Gittarackur, I know a lot more than you think. So keep your advice for yourself and don't speak of things that you yourself don’t know about.”

With that i listen for Gittarackur to speak another word, but he doesn’t as usual. You lay in complete silence and feel as the atmosphere becomes ever so familiar. So tense, yet so calm.. So strong, yet comforting. You know this Aura, you know it all too well.. It was sometimes the only aura that would calm you. Like the arms you can be held in, the hands that would move through your hair. You knew it all too well.

I slowly begin to even out my breath and heart beat until I know that Gittarackur will think I'm sleeping. It was when I heard the slight sound of something. Though to most people they wouldn’t have heard it, I can hear the sound of a needle being dislodged from the skin. That was when I heard a small hum of satisfaction, and a few pops of one’s neck.. And a silent whisper of “ killua you’re such a pain.”

That was all I needed to know, to know that the Aura, the needles and way of speaking was that of the one I knew the most. With a small smile to myself, and decide that it’s time to have a little fun.

“ Gittarackur” I speak out, knowing i did startle him as i hear him jab the needle right back to it’s old spot.

“ Why are you up!” he speaks up.

“ I heard Hisoka in the distance, he’s about to come in.”

“ I didn’t hear anything, what games are you playing at?”

“ I’m not playing any games, I hear his heart rhythm in the distance… just like i hear yours… and just like i heard you pull that needle out, i heard it. Thus you lied and i was right. It does change your appearance.”

“Go to bed.”

“ So tell me, do you change the way you look because you’re just terrible to look at, thus this look is better than how you actually look like.. Or are you spying on someone?”

“ What are you getting at? Just spit it out.” he huffs

“I’m just saying Gittarackur, that you’re a mystery to me is all. And don’t worry, i didn’t see how you look. I respect you enough to give you your privacy… But you can tell me.. Are you hideous too look like without your disguise?”

“ I said go to bed.” He instructs me

“Fine.” i bite back

“ Good”

“Good”

“ Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Gittarackur.”

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