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thragedys · 1 month

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Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright.

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.”

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time.

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match.

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him.

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not.

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view.

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise.

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you.

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.”

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

#tkatb vn #tkatb sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back vn #fanfic #sol x reader

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darsynia · 2 months

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Forgiven (CEO Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Since dropping out of school to care for your sister, your daydream has been that a rich, handsome man will save you from drowning in debt. Until then (read: never), you’ll work hard at your new receptionist job and try not to ogle the impossibly hot construction guy working in the foyer…

Words/Warnings: 2,855 | none

As 5/7 of my Ro Roll birthday fics for @ronearoundblindly, forGIVEn is a fluffy meet cute between CEO Steve and f!Freader. Gif is by @ashilesun.

Excerpt:

“Something wrong, miss?”

You look up to see Foreman Eye Candy standing beside the desk looking gently concerned. One sandy blonde curl is plastered to his forehead with sweat, and you can see that his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue.

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“All right,” the man says, setting his left hand down on the counter. There’s no ring on his finger. ‘Sir’ Eye Candy (you’re going to hell for all of this) offers a kindly, “Have a good afternoon,” and right at that moment, both of the reception phones ring. There’s no time to process the oddness of what’s just happened, not until you’re back at home and making dinner for your sister.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

FORGIVEN

“Thank God for the internship last summer!” your sister says (again).

“I do, I do,” you promise, looking at yourself critically in the grubby bathroom mirror. She doesn’t have to know you pick a new deity to mentally ‘thank’ every time. Today it’s Thor, because you need to bring electricity to your first day on the job.

You’re hoping to look professional but approachable for this customer-facing position, and it looks like the months of clothes thrifting before your internship last year are really paying off. Do you wish you could work in your field of choice? Sure, but working in the same company as a receptionist means you have both in-field and company knowledge. Once Jennie is back on her feet, you hope to be back on yours, too.

You step into the kitchen to check that everything is set up for your sister. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come back at lunch?”

“No mother hen-ing, you promised! I’ll be fine, and you’ll need your own lunch!”

Your watch beeps that it’s time to start walking to work, so you slip into your sturdy dress shoes and give the room a final once-over. Jennie’s cooler of food is near the couch, she’s got all of the remotes, and her walker is within reach. You’ve even put a pair of crutches in the umbrella stand and lashed the damned thing to the couch so she can’t knock it over. Her charger is at hand, the blinds are down, and the end table has her morning coffee on a coaster.

“Get out or I’ll start throwing things at you and you’ll be late from having to clean them up!” your sister teases.

“I love when you nag,” you tell her, shutting the door before she can retort.

Star Industries is honestly your dream workplace, even after pausing your mechanical engineering degree to take care of Jennie. After Tony Stark and his company spun it off as a subsidiary, Star really came into its own. The company has an inspiring mission: to ensure safe, affordable prosthetics for the people who really need them. Many customers are war veterans, just like the two men in charge. The COO even has one himself.

You’d filled out your paperwork after hours, so when you walk into the building, it’s a nice surprise to see how the morning light floods the lobby. The atrium of the building is made up of a multi-storey open space lit by tall windows, with the company’s logo laid out in the tile floor right as you come in the doors. The A in the word ‘STAR’ is, of course, a star, but it’s the missing ‘K’ from its parent company that catches the eye. Instead of upright, the K is laid on its ‘back.’ One stick figure’s front leg and another stick figure’s back leg make up the angled lines from the K--and they’re both wearing prosthetics.

The name badge you’re given has a smaller version of the same logo, and you can’t help but hope this isn’t the only time you’ll be representing the company. You fix it to your lapel and sit nervously at the desk beside the woman who will train you. It’s an hour before you come up for air long enough to notice there’s some renovation work going on nearby.

Honestly, ‘notice’ is embarrassingly underselling it.

The windows in the lobby are clearly designed to encourage shafts of sunlight that flood a particular area with a cheerful glow. You’ve managed to look over right when one such beam illuminates a man wearing rough work clothes, his head tipped back to drink out of a water bottle. He’s handsome as hell, with a face like Adonis and powerful muscles straining his sweat-damp t-shirt. The sunlight turns him into a golden statue, and you sure as hell would visit museums more often if the art looked like that!

Your phone rings and you answer promptly, tearing your eyes away from the construction worker just as he smiles at someone. The stammered greeting you offer to the caller could be chalked up to it being your first day, but that isn’t the reason at all.

Your first week on the job is equal parts satisfying and stressful. Satisfying because it turns out you’re a natural at taking zero shit with maximum politeness. Your stress comes from the renovations.

The work isn’t loud, and it’s not like you’re worried about safety or anything. Technically, your job isn’t affected at all… well, not because of your assigned work, that is. No, you’re the one affected, and it’s thanks to the man who seems to be in charge.

After that first day, the tarp that separated their construction from the rest of the lobby had been removed, meaning you could just look over and see him at any point throughout your day.

You’ve been rationing those glimpses for your own sanity.

Despite this, there are still details you’ve noted. One, he’s definitely the foreman. Everyone defers to the guy, but his leadership style seems to rely on trust and respect. Two, he has the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Paired with his looks, it’s a disastrous combination, especially given Reason Number Three: he’s an utter beast. More than once you’ve seen him moving things with ease that would take multiple other men to lift.

Today is Monday and the men were all at work before you arrive. Their project is taking shape; it appears to be a café with low counters, maybe a wheelchair-friendly gathering space? It would be on brand for the company, and certainly explains why you’ve been brought on as a second receptionist. The usual population in the lobby will certainly go up once it’s completed.

Before you sit down, you take stock of the wide welcome desk. Would anyone notice if you nudged one of the large flower pots to the left to mostly block your view of the café area? You decide to risk it. Foreman Eye Candy is a Distraction with a capital D, and you already love this job.

The morning goes smoothly--but by lunch you’re fairly certain you’ve memorized the pattern on the side of that damned pot, for as often as you’ve looked over at it.

When you come back from your break, the pot is back where it was before.

Your hands shake a little bit as you log back into your computer. Did a cleaning crew come through and adjust it? You’re not brave enough to ask the senior receptionist for fear she’ll question why it was moved in the first place. It’s probably a fluke, you decide.

Without your makeshift barrier, you find yourself looking over at the Foreman way too many times before you’re done for the day, but he’s smiled at least twice in your direction, so that’s something.

On Tuesday morning, you choose discretion as the better part of valor and scoot the pot over to obscure your view again, even taking the time to nudge its closest neighbor a little, to even up the spacing.

After lunch on Tuesday, both pots are moved back, and Eye Candy is smiling. You doubt the two are related.

On Wednesday you bring in one of those Newton’s Cradle desk toys with permission from your coworker at the desk. It’s altruistic, distracting the children when their parents show up to ask questions. Because your area is recessed a bit, you risk setting the item on a little paper sorter to make it level with the visitors’ side. Completely incidentally, that placement blocks some of your view of the café under construction.

You come back from lunch to find the shelf moved to the other side of your computer monitor.

It’s so disconcerting that you stand there staring at it in shock for a long moment, long enough to attract attention.

“Something wrong, miss?”

From behind you, a hand lands on your shoulder with just enough pressure to guide you to your seat.

“Nothing of note, Sir, I’m sure!” your coworker says hurriedly.

“How was your hump day?” Jennie asks from the living room.

You nearly splash boiling hot water all over yourself.

Chanting ‘it’s Wednesday, that’s called ‘hump day,’ there’s nothing that implies you’ve been thinking impure thoughts, pull it together!’ in your head, you answer something non-committal and continue with dinner.

That night you have a dream that Sir Eye Candy walks over and smiles at you, illuminated by one of those rays of light straight from heaven.

On Thursday you arrive at work to find the pots have all been moved farther back along the decorative part of the receptionist’s desk, much too far to move any of them without notice.

As if he’d been waiting for you to see the change, you make brief eye contact with Sir Eye Candy. He does a little nod of acknowledgment before turning to move the large sign for the café. By himself.

“Am I awake?” you whisper to yourself, unable to look away from how effortlessly he moves under heavy strain.

“Keep staring at the boss like that and the rest of his crew will never let you hear the end of it!” your front desk coworker Marcia jokes.

Your cognitive function flatlines as you try to process the word ‘boss’ while at the same time watching the man in question wipe sweat off of his brow. “It’s obvious he’s the foreman,” you mumble, dropping your phone so you have to look away to pick it up. If the screen cracks, you deserve it.

“Oh, honey, this is his side gig. Pet project. Maybe even a vacation, knowing Rogers,” Marcia chuckles.

The name ‘Rogers’ finally gets through to you, in context to ‘the boss.’ Steve Rogers.

Sir Eye Candy is CEO Eye Candy.

“Wait…”

“There it is!” Your coworker gives you the kind of look only busybody aunts and elder coworkers can pull off. “Word is his gym is closed for a few weeks, so he pulled some strings to move this project up. Nice way to start a new job, yeah?”

You’ve been ogling the CEO. “Should I put in my two weeks’ notice?” you whisper. Dismay doesn’t even cover it. You’re practically mortifie--

“I’d advise your manager not to accept,” a nearby voice says. “If anything, I probably ought to call myself into an HR meeting. I’ve been quite distracted this past week.”

It’s CEO Eye Can-- Rogers. All you can do is mutely look up at him, watching the amused look on his face turn into a stern one.

“Have you been messing with my plant display?”

It’s not at all what you were expecting him to say, and you’re still befuddled by the idea he was distracted by you, so you stammer out an admission that yes, you did move his pots.

The phone rings, and after a subtle gesture from Rogers, Marcia takes the call.

“Sir,” you begin, noting the way his posture straightens on hearing the title. You lick your lips in nervousness, and god, his eyes go straight there. HR would be having kittens.

“Go on?” Rogers’ voice is resonant. Everything about this feels like a rom-com, and you are totally worried you’ll screw it up.

“Forgive me for staring?” you offer. You’d meant to say something less obvious, but it’s too late now.

“Yes, well. I’d like to go over your conduct at a lunch meeting, if, that is, you--” he breaks off, lifts his chin, and clears his throat. “In a half hour.”

“I-- Of course--” You’ve answered too late, he’s already walking away and calling out to the crew. Stunned, you look over at Marcia. She’s grinning, but doesn’t look up, and you decide to take your cues from her.

Fifteen minutes later, the work crew wraps up. You see them file out in your peripheral vision, but if Rogers is going to play the Principal’s Office card, you’re going to play at being an obedient student.

This sends your mind on a complete irresponsible rampage, and you’re still tamping down the mental images when a gentleman in a suit walks up to the front of the desk.

Your welcoming smile is already in place when you lift your head to greet him, but it widens into surprised happiness to see that it’s Rogers. At the very last minute you stop yourself from acting like he’s picking you up for a date, even though you very much hope that’s what this is, HR be damned. Every fairytale has a villain, after all, and villains are made to be thwarted.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The word choice is deliberate.

“You can. Marcia, do you usually cover for lunch?”

“I do.”

“Good. We’ll be prompt,” he says firmly, tapping the flat of his palm on the desk with finality. You take the cue, getting up and slinging your purse over your shoulder, but inwardly your stomach is a riot of sawdust.

Are you reading this wrong? All of your teenage aspirations to be swept off of your feet by a rich, handsome man feel like lead weights at the bottom of your shoes. Steve Rogers’ reputation is sterling, and despite your less-than-angelic daydreams, you don’t want to come across like a gold-digger. Even if you are strapped for cash.

Rogers opens the door for you. The front door. The front door of his business. It’s heady and confusing, even more confusing when a slick silver car pulls up and a valet hands him the keys.

“You look like you either need sunglasses or smelling salts,” he says gently.

“A neck brace,” you quip. “For the whiplash.”

His smile is sheepish as he opens the car door for you. “That’s fair.”

The car is cinematically nice inside, and you suppress the desperate desire to pinch yourself until you wake up as he gets in and adjusts the seat for his height. He doesn’t look over at you, which your adrenaline-drunk mind can’t decide is good or bad.

Then he does, and all you can do is smile back at him.

“A confession: I cribbed some of those lines.” Rogers eases the car out into traffic and lets out a long breath. “From Bu-- a friend of mine. Advice on how to be in charge and ask out a subordinate at the same time.” He stops at a red light and shoots a look over at you. “How’d I do?”

You kind of want that neck brace, but despite the trappings, you’re really enjoying who this man is turning out to be. “That depends. Do you want me to be turned upside down and sideways?”

That earns you a look akin to the one he sent you when you’d called him ‘sir.’ You shiver, and he notices. “I don’t think you want to know what his advice might be on the answer to that question! How about ‘maybe?’”

“Maybe is good,” you manage.

“Glad to hear it. What would you like? Italian? Deli?” Rogers looks over and catches his breath like he’d forgotten his wallet. “An invite to lunch without your employment on the line? I’m sorry about that. I got--” He looks back at the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. “--carried away.”

His candid mix of charm and command are sweeping you completely off your feet, tarnished halo and all. “I don’t think I have time to phone a friend for a better answer, but is ‘maybe’ still good?”

Your sister would walk her ass to the car to smack you if she knew you’d just told the CEO of your new company you’re a ‘maybe’ for a one-on-one ‘maybe’ date with him. You suspect his friend would be facepalming, too.

“Your job isn’t on the line, I promise. I’d never misuse power like that--” He breaks off from his serious tone, looks down at his suit and the fancy car you’re both sitting in, and chuckles. “All evidence to the contrary.”

The whole situation is absurd, unrealistic, completely romantic, and everything you’ve always wanted.

You’re going to wake up any minute now.

Rogers looks over and raises his eyebrows. You realize with embarrassment that he wants you to either tell him where he can stuff his lunch invitation, or where the two of you can go eat.

“I got carried away too,” you rush to say. “Yes to lunch. No maybes in sight.”

“You’re forgiven,” he smiles.

to be continued...

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #fluff #CEO AU #meet cute #captain america x reader #captain america #steve rogers #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america x f!reader #humor

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coldfanbou · 9 months

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Happy Endings

Nayeon is going to be giving us a nice massage in this fic.

Length 2.1K

Nayeon x Mreader

You stretch your body, feeling your muscles tense up and hearing a few popping sounds as you tilt your head to the side. Your body felt tight, and you thought you might get a massage. You leave bed and head to the kitchen, remembering the flyer you got the other day. A new massage parlor had opened recently, and people were standing outside handing out flyers. Looking at it now, you see everything they have to offer, including prices. You felt like you should treat yourself at least once by getting the best package; at the same time, it was a new place where you didn’t know if the service was good. You got dressed and headed out toward the parlor; you’d have to learn firsthand if it was worth going all out.

Outside the massage parlor is the same woman from last time. She wore short jean shorts, a tight-fitting top with a logo on her chest, and a ribbon in the middle. You head toward her, and she prepares to hand you another flyer once she spots you. You point to the massage parlor and see a smile form on her face. Her front teeth stick out, making her look like a rabbit. You thought it was cute and didn’t notice when she grabbed your arm and pulled you inside. “Welcome to the Twice as Good Massage Parlor! We’re twice as good as any other!” She says as she moves behind the counter. “Are you interested in a massage? You can look here for your options. I’m Nayeon.” Nayeon points to a copy of the flyer with their options.

“Do you work here by yourself?” You ask as you look at their options again.

“No, there are nine of us. We just opened up, and business is pretty slow, so it’s me and Momo for today.” Nayeon sees you looking down at the list of massages and points to the most expensive. “You look like you’re really stressed. I suggest this one.” You glance up at Nayeon and see her sticking her tongue out as she smiles. Again, you thought it was cute.

“I’m not sure. It’s my first time here, so I have to see if you can do a good job before taking one of the more expensive options. I think I’ll go with a basic full-body massage.”

Nayeon’s smile turns into a playful frown. “Okay. Maybe next time you’ll go with my recommendation. Follow me.” Nayeon leads you down an aisle of rooms, each one with a name above the doorway. You reach the end and see Nayeon’s name written on top. “Ah! I nearly forgot. Stay here.” Nayeon hurries to the back, where you overhear her conversation with who you assume to be Momo. “I got a customer. You have to be in the front now, Momo.” You hear Momo groan loudly, “Don’t be like that! We can’t look empty.” The voices grow louder until Nayeon reappears, dragging another woman by the arm. Momo was a bustier woman, her shirt barely covering her cleavage. Momo bows to you and gives you a smile before heading to the front while Nayeon takes you into her room. She shuts the door behind you. “You can remove your clothes and place them on the basket in the corner.” Nayeon stays standing before the door, watching you carefully.

“Are you going to watch me strip?”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll step out.” She says before leaving the room. You remove your clothes and lie on the massage table, using a small towel to cover yourself. Nayeon steps back in a moment later. “Ready?” She asks while grabbing oils and towels from a cabinet at the room's far end. You give her a slight nod and watch as she covers her hands in oil. Nayeon grabs your arm and moves it to the side. You feel her cold hands move along your arm, giving it small squeezes as she moves toward your hand. You glance at Nayeon; your eyes move down from her face, looking at her body. Nayeon walks over to your other arm and does the same thing. “Can you flip onto your back?” You do as you’re told and feel Nayeon straddle you as she massages your back. You feel her big hands move along your back, covering it in oil. “Is this good?” She asks as she applies some pressure on your back.

“That’s fine.” Nayeon's hands glide along your back as she moves down your body, moving along to your legs. Soon enough, she asks you to flip onto your back. Nayeon glances at you as she finishes up her massage; with a smile on her face, she moves her hand to the towel covering your crotch.

“You’re actually the first customer we’ve had since we opened.” She says nervously. “So I’ll give you a little sneak peek at what the higher tier massages offer. “ Her hand slithers under the towel and wraps around your shaft. It was soft as it moved up and down your shaft. You groan and grow hard in Nayeon’s hand. Her smile gets bigger as she speeds up. “You don’t mind if I touch myself, do you?” You shake your head, and Nayeon doesn’t miss a step as she puts her other hand down her shorts. She bites her lip lightly as her fingers push past her lips. Nayeon’s soft coos turn you on. You feel yourself getting close to cumming already. You hadn’t expected something like this and weren’t prepared. Nayeon felt your cock begin to throb, and she slowed down her strokes. “Don’t cum yet.” She moaned. “I want to cum too.” Nayeon took her time and began to play with her clit, trying to get to her climax quickly. Once she was close, Nayeon kept her movements in sync. Your moans filled the room as you came. Nayeon’s body jerked, but she still kept her hand on your cock, milking it and covering her hand in your cum. You lay there, recovering as Nayeon brings her hand to her lips and licks your cum off it. She goes as far as pushing her fingers into her mouth and sucking them clean. “I hope you enjoyed your massage. I’ll let you get dressed now.” Nayeon leaves you alone in the room; after you get dressed, you go to the front, where she’s waiting. After paying, you tell her you’d like to schedule an appointment for tomorrow.

“What package would you like for your massage tomorrow?” You point to the highest-tier package, bringing a smile to Nayeon’s face. “I’ll be waiting for you then.” You leave and head home for the day, thinking about the potential of the massage.

When tomorrow comes, you rush to the parlor and see Momo outside lazily waving her hand around as she tries to get people to take one. You pass by her and step inside to see Nayeon waiting in a lavender robe. “You’re here!” Nayeon grabs your hand and takes you back to her room. “I have everything set up. Please take off your clothes.” This time, you undress in front of Nayeon, watching as she takes your body in. Her eyes move upward until they meet yours, and she blushes. Nayeon felt embarrassed that you watched her stare at you. Laying down on the massage table, you watch Nayeon as she takes off her robe. The small undoes the knot holding it together before letting the top fall off her shoulders. She was teasing you. Nayeon lowers her arms slowly, revealing more and more skin to you. Her small, perky breasts popped out first, with her small brown nipples already hard. Nayeon’s proceeded to drop her robe, letting you see her slit. She was already wet, her juices coating her inner thighs. The naked woman grabs an oil bottle and twists off the cap before pouring it onto her chest. She places the bottle on the floor before rubbing the oil onto the rest of her body, covering her stomach and most of her thighs.

She climbs onto the table and straddles your leg. “I hope you’re ready for your full body massage.” Nayeon slides herself along your leg; her eyes closed at times. She let out soft moans as she coated your leg in a mixture of oil and her juices. Nayeon rocks her hips back and forth, her moans growing louder. Seeing Nayeon pleasure herself using your leg turns you on; she notices, too. She grasps your cock gently, placing her thumb just under the head of your cock. “I’ll make sure to massage this with a very special place.” She says in a near whisper. Nayeon lays herself on top of you; as she slides up and down your body, you feel her hard nipples drag along your chest. With your cock trapped between her body and yours, you get small bits of pleasure. Nayeon gets by your ear, “You can touch me all you’d like.” With Nayeon’s permission, you begin to move your hands along her body. You find her ass soon enough, giving it a quick squeeze. Nayeon coos into your ear, telling you to be rougher. You follow her orders, giving her ass a rough squeeze. Nayeon’s moan was louder. “Would you like to get to the good part?”

You nod and watch Nayeon straddle you, her chest shining with the oil she put on. Nayeon slips your cock between her lips, moving back and forth slowly. It makes you groan. Once Nayeon stops, she presses the head against her cunt, “Pull me onto it.” You place your hands on Nayeon’s waist and drag her onto your cock. Her head rolls back, and she fills the room with her moans as her pussy swallows your cock. Nayeon grinds against you, groaning as she feels your cock move inside her. “Let me take care of the rest.” Nayeon lifts herself until just the tip remains inside her before slamming herself down. She lets out a great roar before beginning to bounce on your cock. Nayeon’s tight pussy massages every part of your cock, from the shaft to the head; it rubs every part of you.

Not wanting to waste the chance to touch Nayeon more, you lean up and begin to play with her tits. Her perky breasts fit nicely in your hands. You begin to give Nayeon a massage, squeezing her tits. She rests her hands on your shoulders as she bounces on your cock. Nayeon has her eyes closed; she’s reveling in the pleasure. Nayeon’s walls begin to tighten around your cock, and her body begins to jerk. “This is the best part.” Nayeon moans in a near whisper. Her eyes flutter open, and she leans in, stealing a kiss. Your hands move along her smooth back as she plants herself firmly on your cock. You lift yourself and roll Nayeon onto her back, nearly falling off the massage table in the process.

You start thrusting into Nayeon; she turns her head to the side and starts to whine. With a grimace on her face, Nayeon can’t contain herself any longer and cums on your cock. Your cock begins to throb; each thrust is a little bit faster and deeper as you chase your climax. Nayeon’s walls refuse to let you go easily, making you put more effort into pulling out as you cum. You manage it, though, and cover Nayeon’s stomach in your baby batter; some of it shoots further out onto her chest. Nayeon’s chest rises slowly as she scoops some cum off her body and brings it to her mouth. She makes a show of drinking your cum. “I hope this massage was everything you thought it would be. Let me rest a little bit before we go to the front.”

After some time, you and Nayeon head to the front; she wears her short robe to the front. After paying, Nayeon explains that each person who works at the parlor is good at something in particular: "Remember how I told you there are nine of us? Well, I’ll give you a little piece of information. Jihyo is the best at titjobs. Mina is great with anal if you ever want to try that. Chaeyoung has the best lips and throat if you want to get a blowjob. Tzuyu, our youngest, has some nice thighs she can use to massage you. Momo is an all-arounder; she has nice tits and a great ass too. She just needs someone to bring out her inner desire. Sana has great endurance, and Dahyun has the softest skin, so if you want her to use her body for a Nuru massage, she’s the one you want. Jeongyeon and I usually work together to put on the best show, but she’s been out recently. Anyway, I hope you come back soon.” Nayeon waves you goodbye. With your new information, you debate about who you should try next.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #twice smut #nayeon smut

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upat4amwiththemoon · 11 months

Text

The stars

Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader

Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst

Word count: 3902

a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

1985

Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.

Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.

When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.

“Hey, could we get two beers?”

Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.

Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.

“Sierra Nevada, please.”

“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.

“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”

“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.

She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.

When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.

Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.

“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.

“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”

“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”

As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”

Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”

“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.

Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.

“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.

“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”

“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.

The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.

Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.

“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.

“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”

Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”

“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.

“In twenty minutes.”

“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.

Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.

“We’re walking her home.”

Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”

“Maybe.”

1987

The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.

She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.

The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”

“Something like that.”

It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.

“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.

Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”

“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”

“I took a day off.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.

Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.

“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”

“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.

But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.

The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.

Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.

Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.

“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.

“Yeah.”

“Why air force?”

“I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.

“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”

“Are you worried about me?” She grins.

Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.

1989

Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.

Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.

Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.

No one is answering.

She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.

Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.

A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.

“Hey, where’s Carol?”

Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”

“Maria-“

“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”

Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.

“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.

Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.

1995

It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.

It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.

Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”

“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”

Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.

She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.

Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.

They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.

She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.

“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”

“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”

“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.

As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.

“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”

“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”

“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.

“I was in space, and I have powers now.”

“Like a superhero?”

Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”

“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”

Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.

“But then you died.”

Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes—please believe me.

“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”

“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”

Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.

“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”

Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”

Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.

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afyrian · 3 months

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ch. 1 - grievances and clay m.list

the sun's rays permeate the shop's front window. it lingers in the room as the dust particles float throughout. you stare at the clay bowl in front of you. something about it seems off; the rim looks a little wavy, maybe there's not enough space at the bottom of the bowl. although grabbing out your measuring tape and your template don't seem to reveal either of those issues.

even when you stare intently at it, your elbows resting on your knees, hands clasped in front of you, you can't see it. it looks so different and yet so similar to that of the other bowls. biting your lip, you stuff your earbuds in and let the nearly deafening song block out everything that's distracting you.

the light construction on the front of the store, the people lining up for onigiri miya, your lousy morning when trying to park. everything culminates into a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as you push the wheel's pedal. it spins rapidly and you can finally see what the issue is, the base of the bowl is slightly too large.

to most, it wouldn't be noticeable, especially if they only saw this one. however, you can't help but immediately wet your hands and run them up the inside and outside of the bowl. pushing in slightly, you bob your head to the music, letting your free foot tap aimlessly against the vinyl flooring.

this moment, this morning routine is the only thing keeping you together right now. even with the slip on your forehead, drops on the floor that need cleaning, and the mess on your clothes, it's the greatest thing you've ever learned to do. it's relaxing (sometimes) and gives you a chance to think things over, it's your alone time-

just as you find yourself happy with the bowl, someone's knocking at the back door. your eyebrows furrow slightly, gaze flickering to the clock. it's ten o'clock, your shipment of a new wheel was supposed to be coming. you groan slightly, shaking your head. you don't even have time to remove the bowl from the wheel as you rush for the door.

you pull out your earbuds, setting them on a nearby table. pretty much everything within the shop has dried clay on it, another deep cleaning day coming. even the door handle has spots of clay on it, more caking on as you open the door, "hello?"

"yeah, i'm here with your shipment, i've been told we need to bring it inside. this is the correct address for the pottery wheel, yes?"

"yeah it is, thank you. i almost forgot it was coming in this morning!" you try to laugh off your poor time management, your smile falling as the delivery man keeps his stubborn frown in the same space.

"okay, haru, let's get that wheel out.." he grumbles to his younger coworker, slowly walking to the back of the moving truck.

you bite your lip, taking in the fresh air. some mornings you get in at five and stay there until the end of the day. stepping outside and smelling food cooking, hearing the birds chirp, it is rather comforting. the only thing ruining it is the sound of a drill running. of customers out front raving about the reviews of onigiri miya.

blocking it out some, you look around the back area of the shops, noticing another delivery truck nearby. it's emptying out fresh veggies and stored boxes of what you assume to be meat. you narrow your eyes, not even noticing the man standing beside you. he follows your eye sight and wonders why you're staring at it, his head slightly tilted.

"everything okay?"

"oh yeah- oh.. uh yeah, just wondering what they're delivering for the new restaurant," you barely look at him, not noticing his cap and apron, his arms crossed over his chest.

“you could just ask you know,” he leans towards you slightly, giving you a smile.

only now do you give him a once over. he’s rather tall, his hair hidden from a baseball cap. some grey streaks escape from the bottom of the hat… onigiri miya’s logo embroidered into the front. your eyes open a little wider as you finally look him in his eyes. they’re grey, matching his hair and the monochrome look of his outfit. the only thing sitting out is an old rag on his shoulder.

“oh you work there?”

“i mean, you could say it, it’s my restaurant,” he shrugs his shoulders, looking back at the truck, gaze moving back towards you some, “hi, i’m miya osamu.”

your lips part slightly, a few things running through your mind. firstly, he looks quite young to be owning his own restaurant. secondly, he watched you stare down his ingredients like you’re hardcore judging him. and thirdly, he keeps looking at you like some enigma. a mystery for him to solve and understand.

part of you wants to immediately tell him off for the loud noises and long lines and the odd look. however, a frog gets caught in your throat and attacking him makes your hands sweat, “uh you are? that’s- good for you. i’m l/n y/n, i own the earthen kiln, the pottery shop. i’m surprised you’ve opened your shop before the front is finished.”

“yeah, thank you. due to the costs of improvements, i wanted to get opened quickly,” osamu looks over at you, noticing you looking at your own moving guys, them slowly bringing a large box down from the truck.

“yeah that’s.. understandable. honestly, it can be rather loud at times, the construction and all of the customers. my customers preferred the quiet pace of the last restaurant…” you take in a deep breath, not wanting to make eye contact with your new neighbor.

he nods slowly, unable to tell if you can see or not. osamu understands they’re loud, his customers can definitely hear that, but there isn’t much he can do. not until everything is finished and secure, “right, well they shouldn’t be too much longer. but i should be heading back inside to help finish cooking for the lunch rush.”

“i have a class soon as a well.. just make sure you get your customers to calm down some,” you finally get a good look at his eyes, hoping it comes across as more than just a joke, your tone trying to stay lighthearted.

“you do? well, this may help you look a little more professional,” osamu grabs the rag from his shoulder and bring it up to your forehead, wiping off the clay you had somehow gotten on there, “but of course it’s a pottery class, so that probably doesn’t matter much to them.”

you can feel your heartbeat quicken as he reaches over, his finger touching your hair and upper forehead. however, you can’t help but feel like you could’ve been more assertive. to tell him just how much you dislike the constant noise, how it worries your typical customers for the future. but for now, the joking and unusual interactions will be enough.

a/n: so much happier with this :D hopefully you guys like it taglist: @causenessus @osakis-gf @eggyrocks @brkfclub @marisabel14

@bbybibi @etoiile @miyamoratsumuu @girlokarina @gsyche

@cherrypieyourface @zephestia

#☼༄ my bisque beau #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfic #hq #hq x reader #hq fanfic #osamu miya fluff #hq osamu #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #osamu miya x y/n

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moony-isa · 4 months

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Bro, another Au, I can not take it anymore-

So, recently I saw a channel in the shorts ( in youtube of course ) of a restaurant, the idea itself is simply incredible. Why? Well..

Y/n as a masked kitsune waitress

Let me explain, kitsunes are foxes ( the obvious ) and in that restaurant ( the kitsune's are considered, in folklore, mischievous and play tricks on the humans ) the masked kitsunes ( that white with red mask of a fox you know? ) tends to go to someone ( the kitsune wears roller skates ) and steal the food the person is eating with their mouth, in the restaurant rules, while the masked kitsune is putting something in your drink ( here you can see that I don't know anything about Japanese culture, it's like a kettle with a huge funnel that comes out water, I think, the kitsunes even make cool movements when they will serve the kettle with water, in the customer's cup ) you can try to take off her mask to get a discount ( need to take off the mask completely ) but the kitsunes can move away and stop serving the kettle lol. There are also, the same kitsunes using objects to open people's drinks, I saw them using a type of card, probably sharp, objects on the table and even the roller skates they are using.

So, going back to Y/n, they work in that restaurant, I named it, Fox's Home ( simple yeah ) having worked years there, because is so fun, becoming a professional in doing their work.

So one normal day, the boys, Sun, Moon and Eclipse goes to that restaurant because of the good reviews and funny comments, they end up meeting Y/n in the most natural way in the restaurant, stealing the boys' food with their mouth, till they have stole the three boys food in different hours.

I imagine, like, Sun = stunned with love

Moon = overwhelmed with happiness and love

Eclipse = stunned too but then smirks right away.

They know it's the same kitsune because of the color of the mask ( your favorite color ) and your outfit ( your favorite color of clothing ), of course in the code of dressing of the restaurant.

Even thought, the boys can't see our face, they are already in love about how bold we are to be in the same table, 3 times.

And in the end, after talking, getting to know each other after work, the boys date Y/n.

The dressing code is, hair tied in a bun with accessories ( your preference ), a blouse underneath your kimono ( your preference of color ), a skirt (color of your choice), with a apron skirt ( the apron will have a logo of a fox mask in the side ), both will match but they have to be different colors ( soo, second favorite color ), knee-high socks (color of your choice) and ballet shoes (color of your choice), can also use sneakers.

#moondrop #fnaf #securitybreach #sundrop #eclipse #Fazbear.Co does not exist here #Too much of the same word #Kitsune

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customtentco · 25 days

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oddeyevibes · 2 years

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Chapter 1 - We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals

Summary

30 years ago, a woman named Deidre went into an unexpected labor and promptly gave the baby up. 30 years later, that baby is celebrating the death of the asshole that adopted her.

Warnings? Click here

On the 12th hour of October 1st, 1989, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women were pregnant when the day first began.

Crown Heights, New York

October 1st, 1989

11:30ish

A young woman in her mid to late twenties sat next to the window of the Caribbean restaurant she frequented. The restaurant’s logo was on the window, blocking her face from the view of any passerby. She sat there patiently waiting for her order of Macaroni Pie with a side of fried rice. The same thing she always ordered.

The shouting of the staff and the music filling providing ambiance was nothing compared to the other world she was drowning herself in through the novel The Queen of The Damned. It was Anne Rice’s most recent work in her Vampire series, detailing the melancholic misadventures of several vampires as they contemplated the meaning behind their eternal existence.

“Deidre!”

A voice called out to her.

The woman--Deidre--looked up from her book to see one of the waitresses with her order, placing the styrofoam container in front of her.

“Thank you.” Deidre said softly.

The waitress nodded with a soft smile before leaving to tend to other customers. Deidre closed her book, leaving a corner of the page bent so she can find her spot later. She smiled down at her food, after a long day at work, she deserved this. She was never one to deny herself a little self-care.

Deidre took one bite and then she started to feel…weird.

There was a pain in her stomach and the intensity just kept building more and more. She looked down to see a sight she wasn’t prepared for, nor was anyone else in the restaurant when they turned to the screaming woman and watched as her stomach grew larger and larger.

It was like witnessing an accelerated pregnancy. Then her water broke. Everyone scrambled to get her comfortable and prepare for the birth of this…miracle child that grew in the span of like 10 seconds. Spare table cloths were used as blankets to wrap the bundle of confusion as she came into the world screaming. The anxieties were only made worse by the lights flickering in the store.

For all it was worth, the baby was healthy in every way. Of course, the news stations flocked to see their local miracle baby. 42 other babies around the world had been born on the same day in similar circumstances.

Of course, it was made even weirder when an old man with a monocle came to the apartment complex looking for the baby.

And there the baby was, swaddled in a soft faded red blanket. Deidre got nervous as the man leaned in closer to inspect the baby.

“A-Are you with the government?”

The man stood up straight. “Heavens no!” he proclaimed. “The child? How much do you want for it?”

“What?!”

“How much? I’m willing to pay whatever amount you wish for the child.”

Deidre looked down at the baby before looking up at the man. She sat there silently for a bit before she spoke again. “Any amount?”

Thus, that child was the 8th baby adopted by Sir Reginald Hargreeves and brought to the Umbrella Academy. When all the children’s powers began truly manifesting, The baby became the most useful to a team unit, being able to heal others with light.

Even though they were all the same age, Number 8 was looked at as the youngest because of her demeanor. To keep it simple, she was a crybaby. One that easily led with a few choice words and harsh stares. It was both a blessing and a curse.

She was later named by their “mom” to be Y/N Hargreeves. Then 17 years later, after the death of Ben, Y/N Hargreeves was the first to leave the academy. In the dead of night, when most everyone slept, she went to her and Ben’s special room and climbed out through the window and was never seen again.

The designated “baby” and healer was the first pillar to fall and soon after, all the others did too.

———✨————

30 years later

Club Galerie

“Well, that was certainly a show you put on, Y/N.” Mother Hera sashayed in your direction as you leaned against the bar, still in your performance attire…sort of.

“What can I say? I was born to dazzle~” You added a bit of flair as you flashed some jazz hands, white light softly emitting from your fingertips.

She chuckled as she patted you on the back. “I thought I told you not to take gift shots anymore?”

“Who am I to deny the people?” You slurred.

“Well, make sure you count your tips for the night before you pass out, sweetie, hmm?”

“Yesssss…mother~”

Hera shook her head with a smile as she walked behind the bar, flicking on the small television. The sudden bright light in a sea of dim had no issue catching your attention as you squinted at the screen.

The words “breaking news” plastered on the screen as a news anchor announced the death of eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreeves….your dear old dad.

You scoffed. “Holy shit…the bastard finally croaked.”

Hera crossed her arms. “Hmm…how you feeling?”

You were silent. “...I dunno…”

News like this should’ve had you through the roof. You’ve always hated him for how he treated you and the others. Of course, you had heard that the others eventually left the academy minus Luther but that didn’t surprise you.

So why didn’t it feel…good?

Why didn’t something in you feel fulfilled?

The bane of your existence was dead and you didn’t even feel a flutter happening in your soul.

“The fuck is up with that?” You muttered.

“Is there gonna be a funeral? Need some company?”

“Nah, with my siblings, it’ll be awkward as hell for an outsider to be in between that. ‘Specially if a fight breaks out.”

“That happen often?”

“Oh yeah. Mostly between Luther and Diego. No, I should go alone. Someone’s gotta be the first piss on the old man’s grave and I’ll be damned if it isn’t me.”

Mother Hera giggled. She remembers when she first met you. At first, it was here and there. Seeing you sneak into some of the clubs to watch the performers. You had such good etiquette too. Knew to tip them well during their numbers by watching everyone else do so.

Then, she started seeing you more and more. It hit her that you might be homeless, so she offered you a home. Ended up teaching you everything you know now. You never knew how much you needed a parental figure like her.

None of your other siblings would probably believe the amount of progress you made with your powers and their evolution. Hera had a different approach than your dad.

Of course, she didn’t know much about being one of the miracle children but she figured the same approach to parenting would work, and it did.

Now your “new and improved and untraumatized” self would be reuniting with your siblings. Well, minus Klaus who you had already been in frequent communication with AKA you bailed him out of jail, picked him up from rehab, and gave him a place to crash every so often.

Vanya, you called every few months to check on her but nothing more. Everyone else? Nah.

“Hera, I'm gonna be on leave for a bit.”

Mother nodded as she watched you sway out of the bar. She let out a heavy exhale. “Lord, that child needs all the help she can get.”

——✨——

“The world is a cruel place, Number 8! Filled with cruel people! And none of them will care that you’re a wailing child!”

——✨——

You were jolted awake by the cab’s sudden stop. Peering out of the window at the extravagant entrance to the academy. You were so smug about the idea of strutting back in there but now?

Nothing but dread as you stepped out of the vehicle.

“My darling~ Glowbug!”

You smirked, looking over to see Klaus in his usual eccentric attire with his usual walk like the ground was nothing but a seesaw.

Number 4 wasted no time in throwing his arms around you. Surprisingly, he didn’t smell too much like liquor but that was probably because he was intoxicated on something else.

“Klaus, please tell me why the rehab let you out?”

Flashing his signature smile, “I’m drug-free, babe. I was given a second chance at freedom.”

“Second chance? Klaus!” You tilted your head to the side in disbelief.

Klaus frowned. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What have you been on since you’ve been out?” You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“Everything!” Klaus heard Ben yell.

“Nothing!” He responded, immediately turning around to hush his dead brother which earned an eyebrow raise from you.

“Are you still…talking to Ben?”

The spirit waved in your direction despite knowing you didn’t see him. “Tell her I said hi.”

“No!” He glanced back at Ben and flipped him off. “Just some annoying sidewalk spirit.”

“How’s the club? I miss mother~”

“Mother does not miss you or your unpaid tab.” You told him, walking through the doors with him trailing behind you.

Stepping back into the main hall was like stepping through a time machine. It didn’t seem like a single thing changed since you left all those years ago.

“It’s like…looking at an old picture.” Klaus mused. “Feels weird being in here and not hearing dad yell at us.”

You softly laughed. “I know, right?”

Like clockwork, you ascended the stairs and walked to your favorite spot, Mom’s gallery. A smile formed as you remember the days of just sitting there with mom. Quietly enjoying each other’s company.

She would be cross-stitching and you’d be trying to replicate the paintings on the wall, especially the woman she admired so much. If there’s any good that came out of this place, it’s that mom helped you find your calling.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Luther standing there with a stunned expression. It wasn’t all that surprising that he seemed to have gotten bigger.

“Hey, bro. Long time no see.” You smirked in his direction.

“Y-yeah, it’s been…awhile. Wow, you look…”

You giggled. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been experimenting with my look, like it?”

He was silent for a moment. “Yeah, it suits you.”

The two of you stood there in silence.

“Is anyone else here?” You asked.

“Just Diego.”

“Oh yeah? And how’s our little *he-rago?”

“Still Diego.”

Luther came closer. “It’s really nice to see you again.” You backed up a bit. Why did you feel weird?

“Yeah…nice to see you too.”

He gave a curt nod before walking past you.

“Oh! Klaus is also somewhere here.”

Luther was about to say something but stopped himself, seemingly already exhausted with the idea of running into him before he continued downstairs.

“Jesus, you too?” A voice spoke to you in a cold tone. “First Vanya, now you?”

It was none other than Diego, decked out in black tactical gear. You scoffed.

“What bank are you about to rob?”

“Why did you even come back here?” He was not amused by your comment. “You were the first of us to leave.”

“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Diego. Thought you’d be happy to see me. After all our last words to each other—well…your last words to me were pretty harsh.”

“So harsh you couldn’t handle it and ran away.”

“Running away is so negative, I prefer pursuing greener pastures than letting that old fart sacrifice me like a goat.” Your words were laced with such hatred that it made Diego a tiny bit proud.

“So why are you here?”

You shrugged. “I figured we were all gonna piss on his grave…and I call first dibs.”

With that, Diego brushed past you and continued downstairs to the house. So far, reuniting with Luther felt weird but Diego felt just right.

When Ben died, Diego blamed you in a fit of grief for letting him die. You remember getting so pissed that you blew out his bedroom lights, leaving your mother to replace them.

Luther wasn’t as antagonistic towards you but you always despised how he chased after your dad’s approval even at the expense of everyone else’s well-being.

Maybe you were feeling empty that Luther wasn’t more pissed off at you? Maybe a part of you was itching to tell him off?

With a moment of quiet, you sat down on the ottoman mom always reserved for you. You’re surprised that your father didn’t order her to put it away. Maybe she waited for you, hoping that you’d change your mind and come back home, back to your chair.

You laughed to yourself. ‘That’s a stupid thought.’

“Y/N…it’s good to see you.” An English-accented voice spoke to you. It was Pogo, your father’s right hand. “It’s been so long.”

You flashed a weak smile. “Hey Pogo.”

He calmly approached you with the assistance of his cane. “I was unsure if you would come.”

You were silent for a moment before leaning back against the railing that the ottoman was pressed up against.

“Yeah well…your shitty dad only dies once…gotta bask in it while you can.”

Pogo sighed. He wasn’t surprised that even you were relieved and enjoying this in some way. Not that he could blame you or your siblings after the way Sir Hargreeves raised you.

“You were still so young when you left. Did you have any hard times?”

“Homeless for a little bit…” That answer hurt his soul. “Then Mother Hera took me in. She’s good people.”

Pogo nodded. “I’m glad to hear that everything worked out for you. I wonder, are you still pursuing art?”

“Yep. Once mom opened that can of worms, there was no stopping me. I’m a cabaret performer. Who knew I shine on stage with a little bit of…razzle-dazzle.” Again, your fingertips lit up.

Safe to say, it was your favorite little party trick. Normal humans ate it up every time.

“That’s good to hear that you found something you can be passionate about. Being a superhero…was always a rough life for you.”

A pair of footsteps were heard ascending the staircase. “Y/N?” You heard. You already knew it was Allison.

You turned to face your sister. She seemed shocked but also happy to see you standing there.

“You actually came?”

You didn’t even give her a chance to continue before harshly brushing past her and heading downstairs. “Later Pogo.”

——✨——

Luther had called a meeting in the lobby. You stood before Five’s portrait as you waited for everyone to file in. Each sibling took a seat while Klaus played in the bar.

“Um…I guess we should get started.” Luther spoke as he stood up. “So I figured we could have a sort of memorial service in the courtyard at sundown. Say a few words, just at dad’s favorite spot?”

You snarked. “Where? in hell?”

Allison looked at Luther in confusion. “Dad had a favorite spot?”

Luther nodded. “You know, under the oak tree.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the big man continued.

“We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”

Klaus sauntered over with a glass in his hand. “Will there be refreshments? Tea? Scones? Cucumber sandwiches are always a winner.”

“What? No. And put that out. Dad didn’t allow smoking in here.”

“What’s he gonna do? Rise from the grave to put it out?”

“Is that my skirt?” Allison asked Klaus, this caused you to finally turn to face everyone.

Klaus was, indeed, wearing a skirt.

“What? Oh, yeah, this. I found it in your room. It’s a little dated, I know,” he stood in the center of the room to lazily pose. “but it’s very breathey on the bits.” He joked.

“Listen up.” Everyone’s attention turned back to Luther. “Still some important things that we need to discuss, all right?”

Diego spoke up finally. “Like what?”

“Like the way he died.”

“And here we go.” Diego smirked in disbelief.

You sighed. “Luther, the elderly die from heart attacks every day, dad’s not special.”

Vanya nodded in your direction. “Are you saying it wasn’t a heart attack?”

“According to the coroner, it was.” Luther answered.

Vanya shrugged. “They would know, right?”

“Theoretically.”

“Theoretically?” Allison asked like she wasn’t believing what Luther was suggesting either.

You rolled your eyes. This was the aspect of Luther you hated. Always wanting to do a mile when your dad only wanted an inch.

“I’m just saying, at the very least, something happened. The last time I talked to dad, he sounded strange.”

“Oh, quelle surprise!” Klaus gurgled, earning a look of disgust as you went over and lightly hit him in the arm before sitting next to him.

“Don’t be gross.” You muttered to him.

“Strange how?” Allison questioned.

“He sounded on edge. Told me I should be careful who to trust.”

“Luther,” Diego stood up from his seat. “he was a paranoid, bitter old man who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.”

“Bold of you to assume he had any to begin with Diego.”

“No. He must have known something was going to happen.” He turned to Klaus. “Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to dad.”

Allison scoffed while you let out a loud exhale. Klaus groaned.

“I can’t just call dad in the afterlife and be like, “Dad, could you just…stop playing tennis with Hitler for a moment and take a quick call?”

You chuckled.

“Since when? That’s your thing.”

“Not when he's in a bad state of mind…” you let out.

“You’re high?”

Klaus didn’t even try to deny it. “Yeah! Yeah! I mean, how are you not, listening to this nonsense?”

“Well, sober up, this is important.”

You crossed your arms. “That’s now how drugs work, Luther.”

Klaus gestured in your direction, agreeing with you.

“Whatever, there’s also the issue of the missing monocle.”

Diego rolled his eyes. “Who gives a shit about a stupid monocle?”

“Exactly.” Luther turned to Diego. “It’s worthless. So whoever took it, I think it was personal.” He started looking at everyone around the room. “Someone close to him. Someone with a grudge.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed dad.”

A wave of silence filled the room as everyone’s look of realization aimed at Luther, gradually replaced with a look of offense and shock.

“You do?”

There was more silence until you spoke up. “Pretty big claim coming from the one who never left dear old daddy’s side.”

“How could you think that?” Vanya was stunned.

Luther, being put in a negative spotlight, looked like he tried to find the right words.

Diego mocked him as he left. “Great job, Luther. Way to lead.”

Luther’s words were coming out broken. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

Klaus was the next to get up. “You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy. Crazy.”

“I’m not finished.” He tried to be stern with his words but that failed.

“Ok well sorry, I’m just gonna go murder mom. Be right back”

You and Vanya stood up, leaving the room together.

“That’s not what I was saying. I didn’t…”

Finally, Allison stood up and began walking out.

“Allison…”

He stood there alone. “That went well.”

——✨——

At first, you wanted to head right back to mom’s space but instead decided to a special place that you remembered vividly even after all these years.

You and Ben’s special place. Whenever the both of you wanted to just get away from everyone else. You always snuck off here. You stumbled upon it first. It was halfway painted, almost like it was meant to be another room for more students but it had long been abandoned since your father was only able to get eight of you, seven if you discount Vanya having no powers.

You and Ben didn’t even have to have long-winded conversations. You simply enjoyed each other’s company. He sat in a corner reading while you occupied yourself with doodling on the walls.

Sometimes you drew childish stuff like daisies and simple fairies, other times you created something so detailed and beautiful that Ben simply HAD to put down whatever he was reading and take it in.

Your fingers brushed against the wall of art as you strolled past. Finally, stopping at one specific drawing. It was a drawing of 8 crows sitting on a long branch.

“One crow for each of us?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Even Vanya?”

You nodded.

“Wouldn’t it make sense for us to be…umbrellas?”

You childishly shook your head. “I don’t wanna be an umbrella. I like crows.” You continued filling in the color on one of the birds.

“Did you know a group of crows is called a Murder?”

“Really? Why? That sounds scary.”

“It’s because if you see a lot of crows in one place, it’s an omen of death. A lot of people are scared of them. Crows aren’t bad though. They’re smart. You know, they can remember human faces.”

You perked up at that fact. “Really?”

Ben smiled. “Yeah. They’re a part of the corvid family, they’re related to ravens. Also…crows are the symbol of a Celtic goddess called The Morrigan.”

“Did you read that from the library?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You should bring it next time.”

You smiled to yourself. You really did not want to do this to yourself but you never really had anything to remember Ben by. The nightmares that plagued you for 13 years.

Being in this room, it felt like a shell was dissolving from around you.

“Ben, I’m so sorry.” You spoke softly. “I should’ve been stronger. You only died cause I was holding you back. I was weak. It…it should’ve been me. You should’ve been the one to finally leave this place.”

Your forehead softly clunked against the drawing as tears began to flow.

Suddenly, you heard music playing. Even through the muffling of the walls, you heard it clearly.

You sighed. “Seriously?” You were unable to suppress the laugh that came out of you.

~Children behave~

You backed away from the wall, awkwardly swaying to the music as you closed your eyes and only focused on the sound. There was no pressure of performance like at the club.

And watch how you play

They don’t understand and so we’re running just as fast as we can

Holdin on to one another’s hand

You spun around the room like you listening to Stevie Nicks, lip-syncing perfectly to the song and having your music video moment in your head as you grooved your way towards the room door, exiting into the hallway with a skip over the threshold.

Tryin to get away, into the night

And then you put your arms around me and we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we’re alone now

The hallway was completely yours. You were like a whimsical fairy, shuffling through the hall. Your facial expression matched the intensity of the song as you mouthed along with the words before you began strutting along the corridor.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

When the drum synth came in, you started imitating a drummer’s movement, banging against the air on beat.

Look at the way

We gotta hide what we’re doin’

Cause what would they say

If they ever knew and so we’re running just as fast as we can

Holdin’ on to one another’s hand

Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me

And we tumble to the ground and then you say

I think we’re alone now

Another spin that might’ve been too soon as you stumbled, catching yourself before easing back into the groove into the song with a run into a sloppy jete.

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

I think we’re alone now

There doesn’t seem to be anyone around

I think we’re alone now

The beating of our hearts is the only sound

*THUNDER CRASH*

The vibes immediately got put on hold as a crash of thunder caught you off guard with a mixture of heavy wind that started rattling the closed windows.

——✨——

All of you ran out into the courtyard to face a shocking sight. A blue ripple in the sky.

“Holy shit!”

“What is it?”

“Don’t get too close!”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly….either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two.” Luther suggested.

“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.”

Suddenly, you were pushed aside as Klaus ran in front of you all clutching a fire extinguisher. “Out of the way!” He aimed and fired at the ripple before just chucking it.

“Really Klaus?”

“I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?”

Something started forming inside of the ripple causing Luther to push everyone behind him with Diego moving forward beside him.

“Get behind me!”

“Yeah, get behind us!”

“I vote for running!”

All of you watched as an old man appeared stuck in a screaming state. Only made weirder when his body began changing in front of you to that of…

“Five?”

“What?” Allison glanced at you before looking back.

The man…boy fell and the ripple closed. You all inched closer as the boy stood and confirmed what you thought. It was Five. The brother that vanished years ago…and he hasn’t even aged a day.

“Does anyone else see little Number Five or is that just me?”

You shook your head. “No…I see him too.”

Five looked down at himself before looking back up at all of you. “Shit!”

——✨——

All of you stood in the kitchen as you watched in awe as Five moved around making himself something to eat.

“What’s the date? The exact date.”

“The 24th.” Vanya replied.

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

“So are we gonna talk about what just happened?”

Five didn’t reply, pissing Luther off as he stood.

“It’s been 17 years.”

The smartass scoffed. “It’s been a lot longer than that.” He inched forward blinking past Luther.

“I haven’t missed that.”

It was Diego’s turn. “Where’d you go?”

“The future. It’s shit, by the way.”

Klaus perked up. “Called it!”

“I should’ve listened to the old man. Y’know, jumping through space is one thing. Jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” He finally looked up at everyone, specifically Klaus. “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, danke!”

Vanya started questioning him next. “Wait, how did you get back?”

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

You were at a loss for words. “I didn’t retain any of that.”

“Cause that makes no sense.” Diego chimed in.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.” Five shot back.

Diego quickly stood up but was held back by Luther.

“How long were you there?”

“45 years. Give or take.”

Everyone inched in closer when Five replied.

“So what are you saying?” Klaus started. “That you’re 58?”

“Wow, you don’t look a day over a day over 13. What’s your secret?”

“Y/N, I don’t remember you being such a smartass. My consciousness is 58. Apparently, my body is now 13 again.”

Vanya was lost. “How does that even work?”

“Delores kept saying the equations were off. Eh. Bet she’s laughing now.”

“Delores?”

Five ignored the question and picked up the newspaper with their dad’s death on the front page. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How did you know about that?”

“What part of the future do you not understand? Heart failure, huh?”

Both Diego and Luther answered at the same time.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Hmm. Nice to see nothing’s changed.” The fifth Hargreeves then left the kitchen as Allison called after him.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“The circle of life.” He yelled back.

“Well…”

“Nice to see he’s still the same 17 years later.”

——✨——

You had all finally gathered outside in the courtyard. Rain was already pouring as you all were covered by black umbrellas, aside from Klaus and Luther.

The former going with a see-through Umbrella with a fuzzy pink rim and the latter opting to just take the rain as is.

Mom observed all of your sorrowful faces before speaking up. “Did something happen?”

“Dad died. Remember?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.” The expression she made as she was reminded stung.

“Is mom ok?”

Diego wasted no time in answering “Yeah, yeah, she’s fine. She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Pogo came forward, looking up at Luther and giving him the go-ahead. Everyone watched in silence as Luther opened dad’s urn and poured the ashes onto the ground. It was as disappointing as watching a balloon deflate.

“Probably would’ve been better with some wind.”

“Does anyone wish to speak?”

No answer.

“Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master…and my friend…and I shall miss him very much.”

Everyone soaked in Pogo’s speech before he continued on.

“He leaves behind a complicated legacy—”

You scoffed and Diego had finally had it.

“He was a monster.”

Klaus chuckled.

“He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego.” Allison snapped, taking Luther’s feelings into consideration but also didn’t appreciate Diego’s desire to start trouble.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom do it.”

Almost on cue, mom spoke up. “Would anyone like something to eat?”

“No, it’s ok mom.” Vanya answered.

“Oh, okay.”

“Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead.” Diego stepped out from the lineup, looking back at the rest of you. “But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now.” Luther warned.

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

“I am warning you.”

“After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

This was the anger and rage you had wanted to flaunt when you came back here. And yet, in the presence of Diego and Luther about to get into it, there was a part of you that felt uncomfortable. A part that wanted to shrink away.

You should be agreeing with Diego. Diego was mad at you though. As much as he agreed with how you felt about your father, he was still pissed that you left.

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!”

All hell broke loose as Luther pushed Diego back and swung. The latter ducking just in time. Everyone instantly backed away as Pogo urged the two to stop.

Diego just kept egging him on and on to try and hit him. Vanya pleaded with them to stop but to no avail meanwhile, Klaus had no issue with cheering for the fight.

Pogo shook his head and simply walked off as the scuffle continued.

You rolled your eyes. “Are you guys serious right now?” You spoke under your breath.

“We don’t have time for this.” Five walked off back into the house.

Finally, Luther charged forth towards Diego but the vigilante ducked out of the way, causing Luther’s fist to collide with Ben’s statue, knocking it over and causing the head to break off.

“And there goes Ben’s statue.”

With Luther distracted, Diego pulled out one of his knives. When Vanya noticed she shouted at him.

“Diego no!”

He flung the knife and watched as it sliced through Luther’s coat sleeve, slicing some of his flesh. That’s when the fight halted as Luther was too focused on the cut and stumbled inside, catching Diego off guard.

Vanya approached Diego. “You never know when to stop, do you?”

“…You got enough material for your sequel yet?”

“…He was my father too.”

Diego waited until Vanya went inside to go and get mom to bring her in. Leaving just you and Klaus. You were stuck staring at Ben’s fallen statue. Something to commemorate ruined because of your brothers’ stupid egos. For you, it all came back to your dad again.

The only reason you all were fucked up to this point was because of him. Even if Luther didn’t wanna see it. Diego was right. In your eyes, your father didn’t have a soft spot for any of you buried underneath that thick layer of harshness.

Klaus stood over the pile of ashes on the floor, kneeling down. “I bet you’re loving this. Hmm? The team at its best. It’s just like old times.” He took one last puff before putting his cigarette out in the ashes.

When he stood back up, he walked over to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to guide you back into the house.

“Come on, Glowbug, let’s get you a drink. Best funeral ever, huh?”

——✨——

You knocked softly on Luther’s room door.

“Hey, Luther? You okay?”

……

“I’m fine.”

“Well, let me take a look at the cut, we don’t need it getting infected.”

….

“No, t-that’s ok.”

“Are you sure?”

“You should probably head home…or to bed, whichever, you can spend the night.”

Another bout of silence.

You let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, if you change your mind, I’ll be in my sanctum.”

You started walking off but the clicking of Luther’s door caught your attention.

“Wait!”

You turned as the door slowly opened. Honestly, the sight of big bad Luther peeking out like a scared puppy was adorable.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

——✨——

“You know, you’d think after all these years, I would be able to get rid of scars.” You joked as you hover your hand over the cut.

“Dad always said it was to remind us of our mistakes.”

“Yeah…I hated it.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed of being hairy, you know?”

Luther gave you a confused look.

“I assumed you didn’t want me to heal you in the first place cause you were ashamed of it. People are hairy dude. I’ve met a ton of hairy dudes and chicks. It’s a part of our biology.”

As much as he wanted to correct you, he didn’t want to potentially reveal his secret, so he sat there, silently watching the slit in his arm close as if that part of his body was being rewinded. He always thought the light accompanied the healing process as a means to hide the work. Maybe some people would be put off by watching their flesh mend in a way they weren’t used to you.

Wanting to move the conversation, Luther spoke up.

“You know…we were all worried about you…when you left.”

“Even Diego?”

“...Yeah, even Diego…in his own way.”

“Well…I managed. Got taken in by a nice lady.”

“That’s good to know.”

More silence.

“You know Allison told me she tried to stop you that night. Are you still mad at her?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? She tried to rumor me into staying.”

“Then you attacked her.”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“You know she was coming from a good place.”

“She was until she tried taking away my free will.” Your light dimmed. “Makes you question everything she’s ever achieved…even her marriage.”

“Hey! That’s a sensitive subject for her.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Boohoo Allison and her having to face people not finding her likable. Surprised it took her so long.”

You huffed as you stood up and headed for the door.

“Are you gonna be mad at her forever?”

“Maybe…get some sleep, big guy.”

You closed his door behind you, not even sparing a glance at Allison’s as you walked to your old room, closing and locking the door behind you. You used to get in trouble for doing so back then but with your dad gone, you didn’t have to hear his grating voice give you some dumb lecture.

You looked around your room, nothing really changed since you last saw it. All of your little pictures still hung up on the wall. Your dresser still had the same broken knobs and burn marks from when you took your volatile grief out on it. All of your little trinkets were still where you left them, even your old doll “Lucille” in all her chopped and mangled hair glory.

You picked her up and fell back on your bed, lying down with one leg dangling off the side as you fiddled with Lucille’s hair.

“Well, Lucille…the old man finally croaked…and I don’t feel any better. Why the fuck is that?”

——✨——

17 Years Ago

“This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for Channel 2 News outside of the Capital West bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

On the inside, a few of the bank robbers were keeping their attention on the tied-up hostages as their presumed leader entered the main area, ordering them to get the hostages behind the counter as he firmly held the phone to his ear, talking to the hostage negotiator stationed outside.

“Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don’t want to do. Hmm?”

None of them seemed to notice the newest addition. A little girl in a school uniform wearing a domino mask. Even more so, no one noticed when she looked up to the lights around the room and held her arms out, a dim light emitting from her hands as the lights flickered out and briefly shut off for a moment before turning back on.

The thieves looked around for any sign of some cop entering the building as the boss spoke into the phone again. It would only be in jail when they realized it was one of the children that captured them that messed with the lights, allowing the others to make their stealthy entrance.

“You pull something like that again, we’ll kill one of the hostages.”

The negotiator justifiably was confused.

The boss of the gang didn’t notice the other little girl approaching him casually, standing next to him without a care in the world. She wore the same uniform and mask as the other one. When the man noticed her presence, he ordered her to join the other captives.

The girl looked down, mumbling something underneath her breath.

“What? What did you say?”

The little girl smirked, he had fallen right into her trap as she leaned in. “I heard a rumor…that you shot your friend in the foot.”

The man’s eyes went white as this new reality set in for him. Like a zombie, he pointed his gun towards his cohort who noticed just a bit too late.

“Hey, dude. What the hell?”

BANG!

The man groaned as the bullet hit his foot, the pain sending him to the floor as he accidentally set off his own gun, bullets piercing the glass window that four hostages took cover under. All of the captives began screaming as the boss of the group stared at his gun in sheer disbelief.

The muffled shots of the gun captured the attention of the cops and onlookers outside, everyone instinctively ducking in case a stray hit them.

“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.”

The new cameraman’s attention went to the roof after a civilian pointed out someone walking along the roof. Of course, many of the people on the ground couldn’t see the person clearly with the reporter even suggesting that it might be law enforcement.

On the contrary, it was a boy wearing a masculine version of the same uniform that the two little girls were wearing along with the same mask.

Once the boy was in position, he jumped through the glass roof, landing right behind one of the thieves standing behind the counter. He grabbed him, slamming his head against the counter surface before effortlessly tossing him towards higher windows where everyone outside watched as the same man came crashing through and hitting the ground way below as everyone screamed.

“Looks like one of the armed robbers has been thrown from the bank.”

Back inside, another child came charging in. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He launched two knives in the direction of the robber and the little girl that rumored him. The thief instinctively puts an arm up as the avoid being stabbed in the face.

However, everyone was shocked to watch the knives turn, piercing through the suit of a thief holding a machine gun, sending him back against the wall.

“I’ve been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.”

The children had the bald thief cornered as he stood atop the counter, aiming his pistol at the kids. “Get back now!”

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” Diego mocked him.

Allison joined in. “Yeah, wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Suddenly another appeared, quite literally. “Or what?” He was extremely smug as the thief turned to aim the gun at him.

The boy blinked out of view as the thief fired a shot and missed. In frustration, he fired more shots with an angered yell. Five reappeared behind him with his arms folded. The man went to shoot him again however, his gun had been replaced with a stapler.

“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!” He then pushed the stapler back and smashed it into the skull of the thief, throwing him back.

The thief stumbled a bit before passing out and falling back onto the floor.

“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on location to make sure we don’t miss anything in this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.”

Ben stood there nervous about what he was asked to do. You stood with Allison and Diego as Luther and Klaus urged him to take out the rest of the guys hiding within the vault.

Ben sighed as he entered the room. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

The crowd of onlookers watched on as the captives all frantically ran out of the building.

“Now we see the hostages. They--they’re free. They’re scared, clearly, but they do seem to be unharmed.”

You and your siblings watched through the tempered glass as Ben’s tentacles ravaged all the remaining thieves. The beast inside of Ben letting out an ear-piercing screech as the men inside screamed for their lives. Blood splattered everywhere as you watched limbs fly from side to side.

Finally, the noise stopped as Ben poked his head out, covered in blood from head to toe. His eyes scanned all of you as he let out shaky breaths. “Can we go home now?”

That was how your father decided to introduce the world to the Umbrella academy. You remembered every bit of it. The overwhelming flashes of light and the microphones being shoved in your face, causing your breathing to quicken. The only solace being Klaus and Ben holding your hand. Even though Klaus seemed to be fine, Ben was clearly ashamed of being covered in blood for the interviews.

When one of the reporters asked your father if he was concerned about your wellbeing, it piqued your interest. Your dad’s answer was a curt yes but his worries were overshadowed by the worry for the world. There was something about his answer that never sat right with you.

#flourescent fic #ben hargreeves x y/n #ben hargreeves x reader #tua x reader

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