#his popularity had already been rising slowly before that but the event didn’t help

[undyinglantern]

thinking about when six was one of the least recruited eternals and before his rebalance (back when you clicked his skill every other turn for attack buff+debuff clear+10% gauge). Then he got rebalanced and also the 6th anniversary event was centered around him and also came with a free welfare version of him and suddenly he’s the most popular

[silkling]

Au prompts

No rush, just throwin some thoughts out

I really like your falsely accused au, any more of that would be consumed as if it were the finest chocolate

(More g1 ish) Prowl is SpecOps in some way not just a strat-tac mech (love me some BAMF Prowl)

Prowl has a secret identity, and his pseudonym is that of a reknown orchestral composer. Meanwhile Jazz thinks Prowl knows jack sh*t about music....maybe Prowl writes him a symphony as a surprise anniversary (could be bonding or maybe a post war milestone) gift? (This is indulgent fluff of mine that i think about but never actually write XD)

No worries, friend! The falsely accused AU will return soon! I’m debating whether I should make a long fic for the next reveal or keep it short like I did the first one. I plan to have things in this AU change the canon at large, so prepare for that. :P

As for your other prompts, how about I mash ‘em together? :D

———————————————————————————————————

Prowl hadn’t always been involved in battle tactics. When he’d come online, he had realized that his tac-net was good for organizing and structuring and controlling anything large and complicated. Most bots assumed that meant a battlefield, or something else to that degree. It was why he’d initially joined the Praxus Enforcer Corps. He had excelled there, and his tac-net had helped him cut crime rates down to a tiny fraction of what they’d once been. But…after he’d done that, and his programs and procedures were in place and settled, things had calmed and he’d had nothing to do. He had hated it. So, in an effort to break up the monotony, he’d gone to view an orchestra performance. After that, he’d been hooked. He’d watched the conductor control and guide the flow of the music and the musicians, and his processor had roared to life.

The next day, he’d handed in his formal resignation from the Enforcers, and had been allowed to leave with full honors. His Chief knew he hadn’t been happy, knew he’d been stagnating. Highwire had only wished him luck before she’d sent him off. Then, Prowl had devoted himself to music. He learned all he could, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, he’d managed to work his way from a music writer, to a small time musician, to a small time conductor. And then he had had his first show as a proper orchestra conductor, small and non-essential as it was, and his tac-net had settled and quieted, it’s systems purring as it allowed him to direct the flow of the orchestra with perfect precision. He hadn’t known at the time, but his show had been watched by one of the most well-known and oldest conductors on Cybertron. After his show, Treble had approached him and introduced himself, and offered to take Prowl on as a protege.

He had agreed, and his next show had been bigger. He’d written the music himself, the orchestra he was conducting was much larger, and Treble had used his vast influence to promote it. That was the first time he’s taken to the stage as Baton. He had decided shortly after he’d begun training under Treble that he didn’t want to use his real name when on stage. He enjoyed his privacy, and if all of Cybertron knew Prowl as a conductor he wouldn’t get much peace. So, on stage, he was Baton, and as Baton he also used a temporary paint to change his colors and used some fabric to drape over shoulders and hips. It was enough to disguise him.

And to his delight, his first show had been a massive hit. His tac-net had enjoyed this even more, the larger scale giving him more to work with, more to control and direct, and he reveled in it. Then, after the show, Treble had revealed to the audience that Baton had written all the music that had been played that night, and with that single performance his career was set. Over the following vorns, he’d grown more and more popular, and he’d eventually finished his tutelage under Treble. As time passed, he’d quickly become the most well known conductor on Cybertron. His orchestra had grown too, and had become known as the largest on the planet. Prowl, or rather Baton, led a orchestra of over a thousand mechs and femmes through songs he himself wrote. He had loved every minute of it.

Prowl wasn’t an emotional mech. In fact, emotion was something he struggled with. He thrived on order and structure, and emotions were not organized or structured, but music…music was. And music was also emotional. Through music, he had been able to give his emotions the order and structure he desperately needed in order to express them properly. Prowl had loved his life as Baton. It wasn’t grand, and he didn’t serve much of a higher purpose, but he brought joy to his orchestra, and to his audience, and for him that was enough.

But then…the whispers started. Now, Prowl wasn’t a fool. Most mechs who hadn’t been involved in the inner workings of Cybertron would claim that Megatron had risen from practically nothing and started the war on on his own. He knew that wasn’t true. Megatron had risen from a well-established foundation, a foundation that had built itself long before he gunmetal warlord had even given thought to revolution and war. No, the war had started millennia before the rise of the Decepticons. It had started on the quiet whispers among the lower castes, it had started on the stirrings of the beaten down and the starving. It had started at the rising tide of outrage and horror in face of the Senate’s cruel and extreme punishments for any tiny hit to their authority. It had started in the discontent at the tighter and tighter stranglehold the Senate had began to employ as they grabbed for and more power for themselves, and more and more of the mechs in lower society suffered and died. No, the war didn’t start with Megatron. Megatron was merely the catalyst. If he hadn’t come along and done what he had, Prowl had no doubts that a full scale revolt would have occurred. The fuel for the war had already soaked into the roots of Cybertron. Megatron had only been the spark that lit the blaze,

Prowl had heard the whispers, the growing discontent. He’d seen how the civil unrest got worse with each passing stellar cycle. He knew it was only a matter of time before something in his life changed again. So, when Covert approached him, he hadn’t been surprised. She told him she was the head of an independent group of Special Ops bots, unaffiliated with any political group and who worked only to keep Cybertron as a whole safe and stable. They weren’t much liked by the Senate, since they were not under any mech’s control, but the Senate also couldn’t do anything about them since, apparently, the group had been operating as they had since before the Senate itself had even existed. Covert had told him she’d seen some of his shows, seen the way he directed the orchestra, and she had dug in and found his public records as Prowl. She’d read about what he’d done as an Enforcer, had read about what information there was available on his tac-net, and realized she needed him. She told him that the civil unrest was growing worse, that things were even more dire than they appeared on the surface. That she wanted him to join her, to train him as an agent and a spy, and she wanted him to use his tac-net and his other abilities to help keep Cybertron safe.

Prowl had floundered. He understood why she was doing it. His logic centers agreed that her points were sound, that it would be best for everyone’s future if he went with her. His tac-net ran probability outcomes, spitting out percentages at him of what would happen if he accepted her offer, what would happen if he didn’t, what would happen if the unrest grew to proper war and what would happen if war could not be contained or controlled. The numbers weren’t good. His logic centers had screamed even louder at him to accept. His emotional cortex had protested. He didn’t want to leave his orchestra, his music. But…he was needed. As much as he loved what he was now…he couldn’t let others suffer if he had a way to help. So, with a heavy spark, he had taken her hand.

The next day had come, and Prowl had announced to the world as Baton that he was temporarily leaving the music scene. Baton was having issues with his health, and until they were resolved he would not write music or conduct again. And so with the well-wishes of fans and his musicians alike, Baton faded into the background of Prowl’s spark, and Operative had taken his place. Once again, he had had to disguise himself. This time, he’d taken more permanent measures, a dark blue visor and a battle mask that covered the lower half of his face. A radical paint change, and even alterations to his armor itself to make him sleeker and slimmer. Covert herself had trained him, and shortly thereafter he had gone on his first mission. Prowl had found he had a natural aptitude for spy work. He was small, quick, and stealthy, and he had a knack for processing, deconstructing, and disseminating information. It didn’t take long for him to become known as one of the most accomplished SpecOps agents on the planet. It also wasn’t long before he took his first life. He still remembered that mech’s face. It haunted him, in ways his subsequent kills didn’t. After that, he had also been sent on the occasional assassination, though his work as a spy always came first.

And then, just has he had predicted…war.

It had erupted swiftly and violently, and it wasn’t long before his unit had been forced to make a choice. Most of the agents had allowed themselves to be folded into the ranks of Autobot SpecOps. Prowl, or rather Operative, had not. He had continued to act independently, knowing that if he joined the Autobots officially and his affiliation was known in the event of possible capture by Decepticons, it would make things worse, so he’d remained officially neutral. Though, most of his work had been for the benefit of Cybertron’s neutrals and civilians, with information tossed to the Autobots occasionally.

It was his acting in this way that allowed him to prevent a larger tragedy from occurring in Praxus. He had had to fight Soundwave to get to the information, and he’d taken out all the mech’s cassettes and shattered his optics in the resulting fight, and he had managed to get the information about the attack on his home city. He hadn’t been able to stop it, but he’d sent the information along with a warning ahead to the city itself and to the Autobots. It had allowed Praxus to evacuate all its Youth Centers and even a fair amount of its civilian citizens before the city was destroyed. He hadn’t been able to save his home from being razed to the ground, but his actions had saved the next generation of Praxus’s children.

It was shortly after that that Covert, now head of Autobot SpecOps, had approached him again. The head of the Autobot Tactical Division had recently been offlined, and the faction was starting to buckle and struggle in their fights. Prowl had known what he had to do. So, once more, Operative had retreated to the shadows of his spark, and Prowl had stepped forward as himself for the first time since his days as an Enforcer. Covert had taken him directly to the Prime, where she’d laid out his life story and explained the situation. Together, the three of the, had created two files for him. One, that detailed his life as Prowl and as an Enforcer, and everything he’d accomplished as one, which would be open for public access. The other, which contained the life he’d lived and the things he’d done as Operative, would only be a accessible to Prime and himself, and the head of SpecOps with previous permission from the Prowl of Optimus. Baton would not be put into any files at his request, since at the time he’d been a civilian. He wanted to keep his happiest times to himself.

And then, Covert had been offlined in a mission, and her second in command had taken her place. That was when Prowl had met Jazz. Their initial meeting had been….less than stellar.

(“So, yer the head of Tactics? Gotta say, I’m surprised an Enforcer managed to do anythin’ worth much to a military group like this one. Didn’t think workin’ petty criminals on the streets would translate to bein’ able to lead proper soldiers.”

Rage, quick and burning.

“And I am surprised a mech as carefree as yourself is capable of leading a group like SpecOps. Doesn’t that require delicacy?”)

After that, their relationship had been…rocky. It didn’t help that Jazz couldn’t access Prowl’s sealed file. Not that the mech necessarily knew the file was about Prowl, he just knew it involved the tactician in some way. Still, it had taken them a few vorns before they’d been able to patch up their relationship and work things out. And after that point…things had simply grown. Prowl had come to realize that Jazz was an easy mech to get along with. He was pleasant and adaptable, and he didn’t push beyond the Praxian’s comfort zone. He was also fiercely intelligent, and Prowl had been delighted to learn that the saboteur was actually a rather brilliant tactician in his own right. In fact, because Jazz understood emotions and the inner workings of a bots’s mind better than Prowl, it wasn’t uncommon for him to go to the Polyhexian for advice on his plans if he felt it was needed. It was also why he never took it too personally if Jazz ever criticized his proposed plans in meetings.

Things had kept moving forward, and forward, until…

(“Ya look real pretty under the stars, there, Prowler.”

“I believe I told you not to call me that.”

A frame, settling next to him.

“Ain’t gonna stop me, mech.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Silence, then a breath.

“Can I kiss ya, Prowl?”

More silence. A huff, and a smile.

“I would like that very much, Jazz.”)

Their relationship had taken work. They had been friends first, which certainly helped, but they were both mechs of secrets. Jazz’s secrets were a byproduct of his work, and Prowl’s a byproduct of his life. It had taken time for them to accept and understand that some such secrets are okay. Eventually, they had worked it out, and their bond had only grown. Prowl was startled at just how easy it was to love Jazz, just how easy it was to give his spark to the other mech and not fear it being hurt. Jazz was…a soft lover. He was gentle and doting and so tender it almost made Prowl ache. One of his favorite things was curling up into Jazz’s chest, the spy’s hands smoothing over his doorwings as they simply enjoyed each other’s closeness and affection.

It was peaceful. A type of peace he hadn’t known since before Operative. Perhaps, one he’d never really known at all. They were strong together, with Prowl as the Autobot SIC and Jazz the TIC. They had the trust of their Prime, and the respect of their soldiers. The Decepticons hadn’t had the upper hand in centuries. So, their next step was only logical, given how rare joy was in these days, and how little they knew of the certainty of their own future.

(“My Spark and your spark, forever as one.”

“Bonded together, until the stars wink out and the world collapses.”

“In this life and the next, I am yours, as you are mine.”

“For all of eternity, I shall remain at your side, and you shall remain at mine.”)

They bonded. Under the eyes of Optimus and with the approval of their Prime, they bound their very sparks, tying themselves together for the rest of time. They had asked to keep the information secret. Only the Officers on Optimus’s personal team knew. And so that way they stayed, until the war forced them from their home. Prowl hadn’t ever expected to wake, after the crash. But he did. And Jazz, too. Everyone had. So, the war continued, only now it was on a small organic planet rich with energon. Prowl was only slightly surprised that the scale and brutality of the war was much, much less here.

But then….things went wrong. They had been on Earth for several of the planet’s years when the DJD had come. Apparently, they were only there to drop off a traitor for Megatron to deal with. But then Tarn had decided he wanted to do his Lord one more favor, and…Jazz’s team had been captured on a supply run. The rest of the base quickly gave up hope. No one wanted to fight the DJD, and even if they did no one was sure there was even anything left of their comrades to rescue. Prowl knew, though. He still felt the echo of Jazz’s spark brushing his.

So, for the first time in mega-cycles…Operative roared to the forefront. Prowl returned to the room he shared with Jazz, opening the secret compartment behind his desk that not even Jazz had been aware off. In it, was everything he needed to become Operative again, as well as anything he had kept that had to do with Operative as a whole. He removed the visor from its case, clicking it onto his face, and his battle mask slid out in three pieces from the armor at his chin and cheeks to cover his mouth and nose. He grabbed the pain from the small compartment, covering his current colors in quick, sure movements. Then, he put everything back and retreated to the shadows, leaving the base and driving off.

He knew where the DJD’s ship was. He knew how they operated. They wouldn’t take Jazz’s team to Megatron until they had worthwhile information to go along with it. He also knew that Tarn was the only one who was on board, having done preliminary probing earlier that day. Now, it was time to act. He drove in silence, until he finally arrived at his location. It didn’t take him long to find a way into the ship. It was one of the external vents, usually used for pumping contaminated air out of the ship. If he was careful, he could force it open and sneak in.

Once he had entered the ship, he stuck to corners and shadows, doorwings angled upwards and sensors dialed up to their max in order to pick up the minute charge that signaled where any cameras were. Using that, the was able to avoid detection, until he got to the brig. He saw the team there, but more importantly, Jazz was there. They were all a little roughed up, and he knew he had to hurry. He had already sent a short message back to base informing them of his mission and telling them to come for retrieval. He knew he’d get into some trouble for his rogue actions, but at the moment he didn’t care.

Looking over the team, he realized his initial plan wouldn’t work. He had hoped to sneak them back through the ship, but they were all injured in some manner or another and he could tell they wouldn’t be able to pull their processors together enough to be as stealthy as they needed to be. Which left Plan B. Explosives. He pulled one of his favorite explosive disks from his subspace, setting the timer and sticking it to the far wall of the brig. He activated it, then hurried to open the cell door. At his reveal, three sets of tired optics locked onto him. Immediately, recognition flickered. They knew Operative from the stories, even if none of them had ever met him in person. He was a SpecOps legend, after all.

He gestured quickly, making a motion to where the explosive was ticking, and hurried in to help Jazz up. He was the most injured of the three, and Mirage quickly moved to his other side to help keep the saboteur steady. The four mech group hurried as fast as they were able out of the cell, and the explosive went off. It took out the ship wall, and then they were dragging themselves to freedom. The impact with the ground was rough, and he knew their time was limited. Tarn would be coming to investigate soon, and he had to buy time until the retrieval team arrived. He managed to get the three SpecOps mechs settled against a large boulder, just as he heard heavy pede steps approaching behind him.

He straightened, turning around and lifting his gaze to meet Tarn optics-to-visor.

“So,” Tarn hummed, tilting his head. “The fabled Operative makes his return. You know, it was always assumed you’d perished before the war left Cybertron.” He said smoothly.

He said nothing, expression unreadable behind mask and visor. His posture gave nothing away, either. Under the light of the sun, his deep blue and burnt copper colors seemed to absorb the light. His wings were held at a neutral angle, though they were tilted just so to pick up any signals or changes in the air. His hands were folded behind his back, and he merely stared at the larger mech in front of him.

There was a long beat of silence, and then it was broken by the sound of approaching engines.

Neither mech looked away.

He heard the sound of transformation behind him, and heard Ironhide’s gruff voice speaking to the three downed Autobots. It was as he heard movement indicating they were being pulled away that Tarn finally shifted. It drew the attention of the retrieval team, who up to that point had been more focused on getting their comrades to safety and had been ignoring the SpecOps mechs attempts to make them look at the other two bots present. He could feel the static of Ironhide’s surprise on his doorwing sensors, and he heard Hound let out a frazzled exclamation of surprise.

“Who-“ Ironhide’s began, but Jazz was the one who cut him off.

“Operative. That’s Operative.”

“Who?”

“The greatest spy Cybertron has ever known.” Tarn said, voice oily and dark. “Responsible for revealing Senator Crankshaft’s illegal activities, for breaking up the slave trading ring in Uraya, and most known for stealing the information from the Decepticons that allowed Praxus to save its Sparklings and Younglings.”

There was silence, before Trailbreaker’s voice could be heard. “Holy scrap, one mech did all that?”

“That, and much, much more.” Jazz spoke, voice rough. “Operative is a legend, ‘Hide. And he may not be one of ours, but he is on our side.”

At that, he merely dipped his head in acknowledgment of his bonded’s words. He still didn’t remove his gaze from Tarn.

“Well, and enlightening as this was,” Tarn spoke, taking a step towards the Autobots. “I’d like my prisoners back now, though I certainly wouldn’t mind bringing more Autobot helms to my Lord.” he all but purred, one servo lifting.

It was then that he moved. The Praxian flared his wings, and the armor in his back shifted and made way for hidden boosters. They flared to life, and he sped forward faster than anyone could react, grabbing a length of metal wire from his sub space as he blurred towards Tarn. He snatched the ‘Con’s wrist, dropping his weight down to force Tarn over, and as he moved he slid between the larger mech’s legs while looping the wire around the caught wrist. In the same movement, he slammed his other elbow into the back of Tarn’s knee, forcing it to buckle, and then he twisted and threw his weight, tossing the purple mech to the ground with a heavy, hard impact.

Before he could move, he was rolling on his heels, a wrist flicking and sending a sharp knife into his palm from the sheath hidden in his forearm, and he used the hand still holding the wire to quickly loop the rest of its length around Tarn’s neck. Hand freed, he grabbed the arm the Decepticon was trying to use to get up, twisting it and forcing him onto his front with one arm trapped under his own weight, and pressed a knee to his spinal strut. He finished it by pressing the tip of the sharp blade to the back of Tarn’s head, right into a chink in the heavy armor and against the fragile protoform underneath. Like this, it would be all to easy to force the blade forward and straight into Tarn’s processor. It would kill him in an instant, and it was a maneuver he could pull off before Tarn would be able to throw him off, since positioned like he was, he could feel every shift and tense in the larger mech’s frame. The whole thing had taken barley 10 seconds.

“You will be taking no prisoners today.” he said tonelessly. “You will leave. I will not hesitate to offline your should you attempt otherwise.”

There was silence, and then a low chuckle rose from the trapped ‘Con. “My, I am surprised. It’s been a long time since I’ve been so soundly beaten. It seemed rumors of your skill weren’t exaggerated. Though, what can I expect, from the mech who offlined Sentinel Prime?”

He pressed the knife down harder, engine rumbling in warning as he tried to ignore the gasps from the Autobots behind them.

Tarn clearly got the message. “Alright, little mech. I’m leaving.” he agreed.

He stayed where he was for only a moment, then shifted off the larger mech. As Tarn stood, the blade flashed around him to slice through the wire, and then Operative was moving away.

“Go.” the spy stated, voice cold.

Tarn only chuckled once more, turning a speculative look on to the group in front him, before he boarded his ship. A few moments later, it took off.

“Did you really offline Sentinel Prime?” It was Hound.

He turned, then tilted his head. “I did.”

“Why?” Mirage’s voice was rough, his tone demanding.

“Sentinel was corrupt.” To everyone’s surprise, it was Jazz who spoke. “He not only was aware of the Senate’s actions before the war, he approved and even took part himself. He let the power of the Matrix and the Primacy go to his helm, and he stopped protectin’ and leadin’ Cybertron like he should’ve.” he rasped. “Prime told me. He said Sentinel’s death wasn’t the tragedy the media made it out to be. The Matrix showed him some o’ the stuff the old mech did, and apparently it would be enough to disgust even the Unmaker himself.”

There was shocked silence, and Trailbreaker’s voice was weak. “Seriously?”

“Sentinel Prime was not a true Prime. He was chosen by the Senate and by the Prime before him, not by the Matrix. Before Optimus Prime, there had not been a true Prime since the last of the Thirteen.” Operative revealed.

“How do you know that?” Mirage demanded.

His question was met with a stony silence.

The Towers mech bristled, looking ready to say something else, and then Ironhide’s cleared his throat. “Right. Well. We gotta get these guys back to base.” He turned to the Praxian. “What about you?”

“My mission is done. I will take my leave now.” he said. Then paused. “You will find your second in command back at your base.” And then he slipped backwards into the shadows of a nearby cliff and was gone.

“Wait, how the Pit did he even know it was Prowl who’s missing and sent that message?”

“It’s Operative, Hound.” Skids, the final member of the missing team, sounded tired as he spoke. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows every Autobot and Deception secret.”

========================

Back at base, the missing team had been patched up and were recovering in the medbay. It was midnight, and Mirage and Skids were deep in recharge. Jazz was not. He was waiting. Soon, a mech slipped from the shadows, blue and copper colors had changed to black and white, and the visor and mask were both gone. Jazz turned to stare are his bondmate approached, his optics unreadable behind his visor.

“So.” he murmured. “Yer Operative. I’m guessing that’s what’s in that file you never let me get into. Did Covert know?”

“She was the one who recruited me.” Prowl answered. His spark felt heavy and he couldn’t meet Jazz’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Jazz hummed, going quiet. “Not gonna lie, Prowler. I’m a little hurt.” he sighed. “But…I get it.” Prowl turned startled optics to his mate. “I’m SpecOps too, remember? I know how important secrets are. Plus, I can understand why you wouldn’t say anythin’. The war needs Prowl the tactician, not Operative the spy.” he mused. “Sure, Operative would help big time, but the Autobots can survive without him, we can’t survive without you, Prowl.”

The Praxian was quiet for a moment, and then his doorwings slumped in relief and he reached out to curl his hand around Jazz’s fingers. “I’m relieved. I was worried you would wish to have nothing to do with me.” he whispered.

Jazz softened. His visor slid away, revealing shining, open optics. “Never, lover.” he purred. “‘Until the stars wink out and the world collapses’, remember? Now pull up a chair and sit. I get the feelin’ you need the closeness as much as I do.”

Prowl did just as Jazz asked, once he’d gotten settled, he folded one arm on the edge of the medical berth, resting his helm on it and once more curling the fingers of his other hand into Jazz’s.

That night, the two bonded mechs recharged just like that, assured once more of their love and devotion for one another.

========================

A couple weeks later, and Jazz had been released from the medbay, given strict orders to finish his recovery in his room. He was on medical leave until such time that Ratchet said otherwise. Prowl had an plan, though. The anniversary of their bonding was today, and he knew his mate loved music of all kinds. He was ready to share his final and more treasured secret with the spy. But he wanted to do more than just tell him the truth. He wanted to show Jazz exactly how much he meant to him. He had a plan for that. He had spent the past many, many days writing a piece of music for the first time since he’d been forced to leave his life as Baton behind. Once he’d finished, he’d just needed a way to play it.

He didn’t have a Cybertronian orchestra, and the few Cybertronian instruments available wouldn’t be enough for a piece of this scale, which left…an Earth orchestra. And luckily for him, he knew exactly what do to. A couple years back, Prowl had rescued a famous human conductor, and had offered him a ride to his home. It was on the way he’d ended up revealing he too had once been a conductor, as his spark had been aching to reminisce with someone who understood, and the two had bonded. Zachary, the human, had been ecstatic when he learned that Prowl wrote his own music. He had told that Autobot that if he ever wrote something again, he would be glad and honored to have his orchestra play it.

Prowl had taken him up on the offer the moment he’d finished piece. They had organized it, and Prowl had even written in a piece for a Cybertronian instrument to be included, which he himself would play. It had taken days of practice but Zachary, the orchestra, and Prowl had managed to play the full song. It wasn’t anything like a Cybertronian symphony, but…Prowl had a feeling Jazz would love it all the same. They’d recorded the full piece for Prowl to take with him, and the Autobot had promised to write Zachary a song as well when the human had come to him after the performance, teary eyed and awed.

Now, it was the morning of their anniversary, and Prowl rose first. He had to get to work, but he knew Jazz was still bed bound. He simply wrote quick note, and left his gift on Jazz’s bedside before leaving. All day, his processor raced and raced. Would Jazz like the gift? Would he recognize that it was a Baton piece even if the instrumentation was different? Did he even know who Baton was? For once, Prowl found his work to be lacking, and by the time he was heading back to their room that night his logic center and emotional cortex were clashing horribly.

The door to his room opened as he stopped in front of it, and closed when he stepped inside. Immediately, blue optics slid to the form on the berth. Jazz was staring at him, visor gone and gaze intense. The mech slowly shifted out of the berth, and Prowl was frozen where he stood. Jazz approached him, and then he pulled the Praxian into a hard kiss.

When they separated several moments later, Jazz’s voice shook. “Did you know,” he whispered. “That Baton was my first crush? I saw his first performance, before his name was known to the public and before Treble took him under wing. I’ve loved him ever since. When he took a break, and then the war happened, I always figured he’d been offlined.” he whispered. “Then I met you.” he grinned, his expression so open and adoring it made Prowl’s spark ache. “And you became my first true love.” he leaned in to kiss his mate fiercely more before pulling back. “You know what that means, my spark?”

“What?” Prowl asked, voice soft.

“It means,” He purred. “That I’ve always loved you, since the moment I first saw you, even if I didn’t know you were you.”

Prowl blinked, then laughed, staticky and relieved. “You liked the music, then?” he asked. He hoped Jazz understood what he had been saying with the symphony. He’d written it from the spark.

Jazz just grinned, kissing him firmly once more before dragging him back to the berth. “It was perfect, lover. Just perfect.” he smiled. He got them both settled on the berth, tucked in close to one another. “And Prowl?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too.”

[fluffi]

SNOW-COVERED KISS :: FELIX

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: 70% fluff, 30% angst, barista!felix, angst subplot

word count: 2k

author’s note: hi @constellynx! you knew already, but im your secret santa! you mightve deactivated by now (which im pissed at myself for not uploading sooner) but if you havent i hope you enjoy this! have a great new year :)

warnings: mentions of getting stood up

Maybe it was the fact that it was a Friday morning and you had no classes, or that you had walked past the cute little coffee shop on the corner of Avenue street twenty times this week, and you still hadn’t bothered to check it out. Nonetheless, you had the afternoon free today, and you were planning to spend it at Little Leaf Café.

“Welcome to Little Leaf! We hope you have a wonderful time here!” Chorused voices from employees at the café echoed as you opened the door to cold air and overlapping conversations.

It was a gorgeous café, you could tell why it was so popular. Plants of various colors were placed around the area -- hung from grids on the ceiling, on tables, growing on the sides of the walls. Not to mention the festive decorations — an assortment of green and red items meticulously placed around the café.

However, there was something...rather, someone, that was way more gorgeous than the entire café.

“Hello! How can I help you today?”

You were met with an ethereal face after lining up for what felt like ages. As soon as the last heart-struck girl left, an angel entered your line of view.

The sunny boy stood across the counter with a googly smile on his face. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled upwards, and how the apples of his cheeks turned a shade of baby pink when he saw you. He had a silver mullet that looked perfectly trimmed and maintained...you were tempted to run your hands through it. However, his contrasting baritone voice caught you off guard.

In shock and nervousness of talking to new (handsome) people, you completely messed up.

“Hi...I, um, anything? I’ll get anything?” You stuttered and internally facepalmed.

You just embarrassed yourself in front of a very cute boy, but he didn’t seem to notice. Rather, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Sure, I can give you some recommendations. Right now our xmas-special Peppermint Mocha is popular, but if I’m going to be honest, it’s not one of my favorites. I would recommend the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but it's your call.” He leaned over the counter and whispered, looking around to make sure his boss didn’t hear him.

As he leaned over to talk to you, you were able to see him clearer. He had glowing skin and his eyes sparkled in excitement, but it made you feel calm. You felt serene and happy looking into his dazzling brown orbs. 

Just then, said eyes blinked and squinted at you. That brought you down to Earth.

“Right, right! I’ll get whatever you said! The Singerbread Giced Coffee?” You nodded your head in panic before you realized what you just said.

“Uh, it's called the Gingerbread Spiced Coffee, but sure. Anything else?” He looked back at you after inputting your order with a teasing gleam in his eye.

“Nothing else. I’m sorry, I’m such a mess today!” You bowed in embarrassment and looked at your fidgeting fingers.

He chuckled. “Nothing to worry about. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. What’s yours?” You answered, before realizing that he only needed it to write your name on the plastic cup.

“Oh! I’ve never had anyone ask me my name before. It’s Felix.” He flashed another dazzling smile at you before handing you a table number.

Felix put your order on the pick up table and left to man the counter. Through your peripheral vision, however, you could catch him nervously glancing at you. Ignoring the rising butterflies in your stomach, you walked over to your reserved seat and placed your tray down.

Felix put your order on the pick up table and left to man the counter. Through your peripheral vision, however, you could catch him nervously glancing at you. Ignoring the rising butterflies in your stomach, you walked over to your reserved seat and placed your tray down.

Felix put your order on the pick up table and left to man the counter. Through your peripheral vision, however, you could catch him nervously glancing at you. Ignoring the rising butterflies in your stomach, you walked over to your reserved seat and placed your tray down.

However, as you were about to take a sip of your specially recommended drink, you glanced down and saw your receipt, with a specially written note on it.

Hi, Y/N. If you see this. Read my continued message on the serviette under your drink ;)

-felix

Your heart shuddered as you began to overthink pretty much every possibility that could happen between you and Felix. Maybe he wrote you a note to tell you that you were annoying? Maybe kind of weird? A little cuckoo? A bunch of mind-boggling thoughts started circulating your brain as you slowly flipped your serviette over.

Hi Y/N.

I know this seems like a really unconventional method, but I honestly don’t have the courage to ask someone out on a date in person hehe. Oops! I just said it...uh, would you want to go out with me on a date? I think you’re really cute and I love your personality! Also, um, you’re really pretty.

I was thinking that we can maybe meet at the 31st Bus Stop at 4pm? I have a shift till 3.30 so I could go there and meet you. We can plan everything else out later :3

If you’re already taken, that's alright! You can ignore this message. But do what you will with the information I gave you.

-felix the little leaf barista dude

Your face was in a dark shade of beet red as you looked up timidly and immediately locked eyes with Felix. You tried not to smile as you looked away and giggled shyly.

On Felix’s side, he had been staring at you ever since you took your order. When the two of you met eyes, his entire body froze, and he stopped what he was doing, dropping his half-washed cup into the sink.

“Dude, what are you doing, I- “ Bang Chan, his senior colleague and friend, followed Felix’s line of sight to you and chuckled slyly.

“In my opinion, the color of their face probably means that they’ll go out with you. Get back to work Lix, or you might not be able to see her later.” He nudged Felix’s side, prompting him to continue working. Felix looked up at Bang Chan in confusion and continued his work, still glancing at you occasionally.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. How can I help yo-oh. Oh.” Felix looked up at you smiling, still blessed with a tinge of pink across your cheeks.

“I should’ve given more context. Yes, I’ll go out with you tonight!” You didn’t know where you received this newfound confidence, but you were going to use all of it.

“Oh, really? That’s great! I’ll meet you there then. Be careful, okay? Can’t have you getting hurt before we have our first date.”

Once again you had melted into a puddle of nervousness. Unable to voice out anything, you nodded your head multiple times and ran out the café. Your hands were cold from the chilly season, but your heart was warm from the cute barista.

It was ten past four. You were sitting under the shade of 31st Bus Stop, fidgeting with the hem of your waistband and looking around, by yourself.

You weren’t losing hope, you were sure Felix was on his way right now. He would never stand you up, right? 

Right?

Regardless, you sat on the uncomfortable metal bench in freezing weather, and you were about to text him, when…

You realized you didn’t have his phone number. 

You weren’t going to go home, however. Determined Y/N was planning to wait for as long as it would take. You trusted Felix.

Forty minutes now. You had been playing some mobile games, looking out at the bustling street in front of you. During the winter season, the sun set earlier, so it was already dark and it definitely wasn’t safe for you to be alone. However, you were determined that Felix would arrive soon.

Five more minutes was what you told yourself as you stared out into the empty road, now barren of cars as the rush hour was over.

“Lee Yongbok, where do you think you’re going?”

Felix cursed under his breath and turned to Mr. Park with a small smile. “I’m done with my shift boss, I’ll get going now.”

“Felix, it's peak season right now. If you don’t remember what I told you guys during the brief meeting, I’ll say it again. From the 12th of December to the 25th of December, all of you have your shifts extended for two hours due to the influx of customers during the Christmas season. Is that so hard to understand?” Mr. Park crossed his arms and squinted at Felix.

“Mr. Park, I’ve understood that rule. I did my two-hour extension, now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going now. I have somewhere to be.” Felix tried opening the door and walking out but was pulled back by a stronger arm grabbing his.

“Nuh-uh, young man. I’m sure that whatever event you have today isn’t going to be as important as the wellbeing of Little Leaf. Now if you’ll excuse me, do get your apron and hat back on and go back to manning the counter.” Mr. Park mocked.

Felix sighed and tried one last time at changing the mind of his horrible boss. “But Mr. Park, I swear, I did my two-hour extension, you can check the roster if you-”

“Get back to work, boy. Unless you want to start a new job in 2021.”

Felix sighed and threw his bag down, walking to the staff room to retie his apron.

Later, when Mr. Park checked the roster, he would find out that Felix did do his two-hour extension, and that he never lied.

An hour and a half, that was how long you waited. No one would ever wait for that long. No one would ever stay alone at late hours of the day, waiting for someone who probably wouldn’t even show up.

Tears stung your eyes as you sighed and stood up, huffing and smoothening your outfit out. You thought that Felix had probably stood you up. It was probably a dare, maybe he had been dared to write a generic love serviette to some desperate person who fell for his charming looks. Even then you couldn’t help but think of Felix, and tears streamed down your face as you trudged back home.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait up! Y/N, don’t leave, hear me out.” The voice you had been waiting for finally could be heard.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face a panting Felix. His hair was disheveled, apron still on, and his jacket was worn the wrong way round. What an entrance to a first date.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Mr. Park honestly...he kept me for an hour more, before I convinced him to let me leave. I don’t know why, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn’t think you would be here, no one would stay that long. Please, give me another chance?” Felix took a few steps closer to you but maintained his distance. His eyes scanned yours for any response.

“I’m- I mean, it's not your fault...but you made me wait for so long. I just, I don’t know what to say. I thought you stood me up.” Your eyes watered once again.

Felix immediately waved his hands in denial and took one more step closer to you. “No, no, Y/N. I would never. I’m sorry if you thought I would ever stand you up. I should have made my way here over faster, if only I gave you my phone number. I’m so sorry-”

Your eyes suddenly widened, and you looked up. White, shimmering, pieces of ice fell upon the both of you. You stared at him in awe, mouth open wide.

It hadn’t snowed in Seoul for a long, long time. Maybe this moment was special. 

Felix smiled back at you. Amidst the white rain, he took a few steps closer to you until the both of you were so close that you could...kiss.

“Y/N. I apologize. I’m sorry for being a horrible first date. Will you forgive me?” His dark chocolate orbs glanced into yours, dragging you into a new universe.

“Yes. I’ll forgive you.” You whispered, looking at the ground.

His eyes scanned yours for any sort of consolation. He didn’t even need to ask anymore. “Y/N, can I kiss you?” He quietly asked, using his pointer finger to tilt your chin upwards.

As you nodded, he leaned in and placed his lips on yours, as the both of you stood amidst the snow. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he put his around your waist and the both of you deepened the kiss.

Two lone beings, coming together as one, in the midst of a snow-struck city.

2021 © fluffi

[knchins]

Sex Tapes - Todoroki Shouto

Summary: Billionaire playboy Todoroki Shouto has a secret collection of personal sex tapes and tonight he plans on adding to his stash.

Pairing: Celebrity!Shouto x Idol!Reader

Rating: E+

Word Count: 4k

Bingo Prompt: Sex Tapes

Warnings: Vaginal sex, hair pulling, unprotected sex, hidden cameras, filming without permission, mild dirty talk, pull-out method

Notes: I was supposed to finish this last Saturday but life just has to get in the way sometimes. Well, here it is and I hope it was worth the wait. This was for @bnhabookclub​ NSFW weekly prompt "celebrity x celebrity". In this reader is a rising idol star that had just gotten her big break while Shouto is a young billionaire. I hope he's not too OOC! I may make this into a short series but haven’t decided.

 Todoroki Shouto adjusted his Windsor knot while looking at his reflection in the mirror. In just half an hour he’d be making his grand entrance at one of Japan’s largest charity balls that beckoned only the most famous of the country to attend. It was always considered one of the highest honors to be invited, a decree of one's success during the previous year.

 This was his sixth one, having become Japan’s youngest billionaire at the age of eighteen through risky business decisions and investments that all paid off in the end. Being a man of money and status had its perks. Women fell at his feet, he always got the best service in restaurants, and he could afford anything in the entire world that his mother may dream of having. Not that she ever asked for much, but he spoiled her all the same.

 A smirk pulled across his lips as he looked over his reflection. He never went home empty handed after one of these things. Young celebrities wanted nothing more than to climb the social ladder by riding his dick. He thought that his taste was impeccable when it came to...well, everything. Dates, food, cars, houses, he only wanted the best of the best and he was sure to get it.

 Every year Shouto had a tradition that none of his late night partners knew about. Hidden in the lavish bedroom in his penthouse were three small cameras and one well placed microphone. He quite enjoyed the secret tape collection he had. They were ordered by year and last name in a locked down file folder on his computer. Hard copies were kept in a secret safe. You never knew when you needed to cause a good scandal to take the eyes off of something that was maybe more sinister.

 He checked his ruby and diamond watch, the bejeweled face matching his iconic two-toned hair. Right on time, he mused as he checked himself over one last time before departing for the penthouse’s elevator. He made it down to the valet where a white limo had been waiting for him.

 The driver opened the door as Shouto said nothing. He entered, not even bothering to marvel at the red interior. The first few times he had ridden in his custom limo, it had amazed him at how well the designers were able to make his wishes come to life. Now it just seemed all the same to him. If you’ve ridden in one, you’ve ridden in them all. Painting it a different color only made it interesting for a short amount of time.

 When he arrived, there was a sea of expensive cars and limousines as far as he could see. He was silently thankful that large crowds like this didn’t bother him. While being with a big group of people wasn’t what he preferred, it also didn’t give him any kind of negative feeling such as anxiety or nervousness. It probably helped that he was great at working a room no matter how many were inside of it.

 The valet opened the door for him and he stepped out onto the long red carpet. Cameras were flashing as paparazzi stormed the limo, wanting to get a glimpse of his sharp white tux with bright red accents. His hair in perfect placement, having just gotten his undercut touched up that morning just for the event. He gave the cameras a sinful smirk that had all of the ladies sighing dreamily. If he were into small fry then maybe he’d take a few home and make them into stars. But no, he was after a much bigger fish tonight.

 He took his time walking to the building, enjoying the attention from the photographers and journalists. He entertained a few by doing some quick interviews about the event and his outfit. He praised his designers and stylists that worked hard to make him look the best, and that was probably the only honest thing he said to them.

 After nearly an hour, he ascended the stone staircase into the science museum where the ball was held. More people had arrived by this point and the place was filling nicely. He figured he was almost to capacity by the time he finally went inside.

 His mismatched eyes ran over the crowd, looking for one guest in particular. He knew from her social media that she would be here tonight and he was more than eager to start baiting her to get her to go home with him. He didn’t think it would be particularly difficult. It never was for him.

 Shouto’s gaze fell onto a beautiful young woman dressed in a tight dark blue dress with a long slit up the left side, exposing a fair amount of leg. He grabbed two glasses of champagne as he strode towards her at an even pace, not wanting to risk showing any sort of excitement.

 “Miss Y/L/N, how nice to finally meet you in person.” He said to the idol star in front of him. Her cheeks dusted pink in a light blush as she took one of the glasses from him. Everyone who was anyone knew who Todoroki Shouto was.

 She had just recently broken into the scene of stardom, having formerly been a member of a popular idol group. She started her solo career about a year ago and was finally a big name all on her own. The attention from other powerful people was still relatively new to her, her inexperience served as a kind of amusement for Shouto. If she  really   wanted to be a star, then he’d make her a star.

 “Mr. Todoroki, it’s nice to meet you.” She said, trying to hide her nerves. If she somehow spurned the young billionaire then she could ruin her own career. The mere thought had her walking on eggshells.

 He gave her one of his famous, dazzling smiles. “Please, call me Shouto. Mr. Todoroki is my father.” He teased and she chuckled lightly at the joke that admittedly wasn’t very original. “You look very lovely tonight, perhaps you’d like to dance with me later?”

 She looked up at him, blinking slowly as she processed the request. An excited smile crossed her soft lips, “I would love to Mr-” She stopped, “Shouto. Perhaps after I finish my drink?”

 Shouto nodded, sipping at his glass. They continued to make small talk, mostly about business and her rise to fame. When she asked him about his personal life he deflected, turning the conversation back to her. She didn’t seem to notice that he was doing this, which worked out better for him.

 As the night went on, he noticed her face flushing more and more, giggles spilling from her any time he teased her. They danced, ate  hors d'oeuvres  , and drank more of the bubbly alcohol than either of them probably should have. Shouto found himself becoming increasingly handsy as the time passed, first her upper back, then down to the gentle curve of her spine, her hips, and finally as they were slowly dancing he chanced to grab a handful of her ass.

  The idol star leaned into his toned chest, resting her head on his shoulder so that her breath fanned against his neck. She didn’t protest his touch, sighing softly instead of pulling away. The champagne had put her nerves around him at ease, and by now she was feeling as if she’d known him for years. In a way she had, always reading about him in magazines and seeing him on TV talking about his latest business ventures. He always found a way to stay in the spotlight.

 “Would you like to see how the rich live?” He asked, keeping his tone light in a way to show her that there was no pressure if she didn’t feel comfortable. Despite being such a playboy, Shouto never forced a woman to come home with him. That included heavy persuasion to get them into his bed. He had too much respect for the opposite sex to coerce them into doing anything they didn’t want to do.

 She looked up at him, blinking in time with the downbeat of the music playing. “Your place?” She asked, not bothering to be coy about it. She just wanted clarification for what he was asking of her before she agreed to anything.

 He simply nodded his head, a few red hairs daring to dip in front of his eyes. She reached up and brushed them back into place without much thought, “I’d love to.” She responded, suddenly feeling breathless by how close they were. Typically she didn’t do things like this, however they had such a profound connection that she decided to cave in to her wants for once.

 Typically she lived a very rigid lifestyle, adhering herself to strict rules to stay on top of her game. She had already broken several rules of her diet tonight and would more than likely regret it in the morning. However, Shouto’s presence seemed to make her forget about all of that. All she wanted was to spend more time with him, and thoroughly enjoy herself in the process. Maybe the calories burned through some extracurricular activities would help equal out all of the champagne she drank and pastries she ate. One could only hope.

 As the night wound down, and after Shouto did a grand display of his wealth by buying a few very expensive art pieces at the charity auction, the two wound up in his custom limo. The young star was not above throwing herself at him, his light touches across intimate areas throughout the night had her wanting him more and more. It was obvious what his intentions with her were, and she was completely on board.

 After marveling the beautiful interior of the luxury car, she turned to the side so she could face him. A gentle hand found his face, cupping his cheek as his two-toned eyes stared her down. Behind them was a lustful fire burning brightly, ready to explode. He stopped hesitating for the first time that night as he leaned in and brought their lips together at last.

 A needy whine left her, passing through her resolve with ease as her lips parted for his eager tongue. The kiss was sensual and greedy, hands aimlessly pawing through each other’s clothes as they wanted nothing more than to be closer.

 Shouto pulled away, knowing he had to wait for the main action. He didn’t have any recording devices within the limo, which in hindsight felt like a huge mistake. The night started as a simple conquest, but after talking to her and getting to know his little idol, the desire blossomed into something much more intense. This was no longer a simple catch for him. He wasn’t just going through the motions, he was actually putting in effort and if he hadn’t been inebriated then it probably would have frightened him.

 She looked at him with enlarged pupils, wondering why he pulled away. The playboy chuckled at the expression and a blush lit up her entire face. “I can either be a gentleman or we can do this here, I don’t believe I can do both.” He admitted, only adding fuel to her embarrassment. It clearly wasn’t rejection, however it did somehow feel that way just the tiniest bit.

 As they rode back to the building that housed his penthouse, he put an arm around her shoulder, tips of his fingers brushing the bare skin there. Even though it was light, it still seemed to set her ablaze. She shifted so that their sides and legs were touching, needing the closeness as she squeezed her thighs together. Something about him just made her so incredibly turned on that it was hard to keep her hands to herself (or off herself?) while they waited.

 When they finally parked out front, her hand darted for the door handle. Shouto let out another laugh as he reeled her back to him. “Hold on, sweetheart, I pay someone for that.” He couldn’t stop the amused look from crossing his features as a pout made its way onto her soft lips.

 A moment later the door opened. She took the hand that was outstretched to her and let it guide her out of the vehicle. A bright flash of light caused her to wince, though she was temporarily blinded she could hear the shudder of a camera. They just never give up, she thought bitterly as they called out to her, asking what she was doing with Todoroki Shouto at this time of night.

 Shouto appeared beside her, obviously unaffected by the paparazzi. He’d dealt with them for most of his life now, his father also being quite famous. They were just little insects that didn’t deserve his attention.

 He put an arm around his prize, his palm on the small of her back as he took her inside. The building security kept the onlookers at bay, not allowing them to come too close to the doorway. “Just ignore them.” He murmured into her ear, “they thrive on attention.”

 She nodded her head as they went through the glass doors. They went far back into the building, through a maze of corridors to a private elevator that could only be called when activated by his key. She tried not to marvel at the grandiose decor of the bottom floor. So far she couldn’t imagine what his penthouse would look like.

 Shouto inserted a silver key into the lock, turning it before pressing the call button.He removed his key and a few seconds later there was a high pitched chime before the gold doors opened. They went inside and he pressed the button for the top floor.

 They stood in a comfortable if not pleasurable silence as Shouto’s hand drifted downwards to her ass again. She acted as if she didn’t notice, though there was a tinge of pink on her cheeks as he gave her ass a small pat when the doors opened to reveal his lavish penthouse.

 She walked inside, awestruck at the expensive decor and beautiful open layout. It was even more magnificent then what she had expected, though in all honesty she wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Despite her celeb status, she wasn’t nearly wealthy enough to have anything bigger than an upper class apartment. It was a comfortable living, but it was nothing like this.

 Shouto wasted no time in guiding her into the large master bedroom. The king sized bed was adorned with silk sheets and a plush duvet. “Strip for me, sweetheart.” He murmured into her ear in a low voice, “dance for me like you do on stage.”

 He moved away from her, loosening his tie and shedding his jacket and vest as he sat on the edge of the bed. The singer stared at him before slowly starting to dance to an inner beat, unzipping her dress in the process and letting it fall to the floor.

 She expertly stepped out of it before smoothly taking off her heels. Keeping her pace slow and deliberate, she removed her stockings, only stopping when she was reduced to nothing but a pair of bra and panties.

 The billionaire was captivated by everything about her. Her rhythmic dance, the soft and bare skin, and the sensual expression that graced her face. He was slowly unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it open for her to take in his sculpted chest and abs.

 Her tongue came out to wet her lips, moving to straddle his lap. She rolled her hips against him, grinding her sex against his thighs. Shouto grabbed her upper legs, forcing her even closer as he captured her mouth with his own in a kiss that was a whirlwind of lips, tongue, and teeth.

 Shouto changed their positions so that he was on top of her, devouring her with his mouth as he moved his hips against hers. He quickly finished taking off his shirt. The only thing separating them now was their underwear and his pants. This didn’t stop her from feeling his hard shaft press against her pussy, his movements stimulating her clit slightly. It was enough of a sensation to make her whine needily for him, taking a fistful of his multicolored hair into her hand to force the kiss to go even deeper.

 He growled, tearing off her bra in order to fondle her breasts, tweaking the soft nipples until they were hardened peaks. His mouth ripped from hers and left a trail of smoldering kisses down the small expanse of her neck, nipping the flesh at the most sensitive points that had her gasping for some kind of release.

 Her hands moved to his pants, managing somehow to get them off without being able to see them. He kicked them out from around his ankles, enjoying the smaller amount of resistance against his straining erection.

 His fingers caught the elastic of her thong, sliding it downwards off her legs, making her untangle them from around his waist. Once she was completely nude he pressed a thumb against her engorged clit, eliciting a whimper from his conquest. He moved the digit in slow, agonizing circles that had her panting and keening for more. She had never felt so untouched in her entire life.

 “S-Shouto,” She rasped, “P-please!” She wasn’t sure how much more of his taunts she could take. His mouth had found the swell of her breasts, leaving purpling hickies across both of them. His eyes flickered up to look at her face, seeing the desperation infiltrating her features. He felt like he had hardly even touched her yet. He chalked it up to inexperience, she wasn’t known to go on many dates or have a steady partner.

 “Do you need my cock that badly, Y/N?” He asked quizzically, pulling his face from between her breasts. “Your body hasn’t stopped begging for me since the limo.” At the end of his statement, he pinched the delicate bundle of nerves to get his point across. The action caused her to buck her hips in a feeble attempt to try to get out of his grip, but Shouto merely laughed in response.

 He stood away from her and slid down his thin boxers. Instantly her teeth sunk into her lower lip as the sight of his hardened member, the tip nearly touching his belly button. There was a thin trail of multicolored hair connecting the small divot in his stomach to his groin, the colors split perfectly down the middle the same way as they were on the top of his head.

 “I’m going to need you to do something for me first, doll.” He said as he climbed onto the bed and settled back. There was a smirk plastered on his face now, “Before I fuck you, I want you to give me a little taste.”

 He watched as she sat up, her entire body flushed as she crawled to sit between his legs. One tentative hand reached out to stroke his shaft as her soft tongue lapped at the pre-cum glistening on his head. Shouto bit back a moan as he watched her, his eyes flicking to one of the several hidden cameras and giving it a wink.

 The singer didn’t notice him, too busy concentrating on the task at hand. Her tongue swirled as she slowly led him into her mouth, hollowing out her cheeks in an attempt to elicit some kind of sound from him. “That’s it,” He cooed, his hand finding its way into her tresses, “suck my dick like a good little idol.”

 She kept her eyes closed, too embarrassed to look up at him as she moved her head faster, hand still giving attention to the part of his length that wouldn’t fit within her mouth. After a few minutes, Shouto let out a small sigh of content before wrenching her off of him by tugging on her hair.

 He was smiling as she caught her breath, maneuvering them so she was on all fours in front of him. He aligned himself up to her soaking cunt, running his tip along her folds. “Wow, you’re really dripping for me, aren’t you?” He asked, voice sinfully deep. Before she could give him any kind of coherent answer, he slammed into her.

 Keeping his grip on her locks, he pulled her head back so that she had to arch her spine. A gasp rattled her throat as she was forced to quickly acclimate to his large size, walls stretching painfully at first before relaxing once more. She was so small compared to him that he felt like he was being suctioned inward, the feeling so powerful and overwhelming that he couldn’t stop the moan that came out of him.

 He continued to thrust his hips at an intense speed, the sound of his scrotum hitting against her skin bounced off the walls it was so loud. The up and coming music star was nearly screaming for him, her moans so loud that he wondered if the whole building could hear her. He imagined someone who always looked so innocent on stage sounding so positively lewd. Shouto felt so incredibly powerful for reducing her to nothing but a fuck toy.

 Shouto tilted his head back, groaning at how amazing his dick felt wrapped inside of her pussy. It was like she was made for him, perfect in every conceivable way. After all, no one had the level of dirt on her that he now had. It was such an addictive feeling, knowing he could do anything with the video. He had the power to ruin her career if he wanted to, though of course he really had no reason to.

 He was pulled from his thoughts at the sensation of her walls fluttering around him as she came so hard that she was silent for a full thirty seconds. When she finally started to descend from her high, she gasped out for air as if trying to mentally grab any oxygen she could find. He pulled her back by her hair, making her stand up on her knees. A muscular arm wrapped around her body and a strong hand captured her throat.

 She was silent again as he deprived her brain of blood and oxygen. Shouto found himself toeing the line between orgasm and not, holding himself back as much as he could for the time being. His other hand also snaked around, releasing her hair finally so he could stimulate her clit. Another few seconds he released the hold on her neck and she came a second time with the rushing sensation of blood racing through her brain once more, drinking in air in loud gulps.

 Shouto quickly pulled out and released his seed across her lower back and ass, easing her down onto her stomach as he caught his breath. She lay in a puddle on the massive bed, unable to form any sort of coherent thought as her mind was a tornado of emotions.

 After catching his breath, the playboy retrieved a warm wet cloth and dry towel. He cleaned up the mess he had made gently, careful not to touch any place that may be overstimulated. There was a sincere smile on his lips and a warmth within him that he hadn’t recalled ever feeling before.

 Once he was done cleaning her up, he tossed the towels into a laundry chute and pulled the sheets back. He climbed in next to her after turning out the light and covered them with the silk threads. His hand lightly moved up and down her back until she was fast asleep. As he listened to the light sounds of her breathing, regret began to sweep over him.

 He stood, frowning at the small whine she gave when he left. When he was sure that she hadn’t actually awoken, he padded to his laptop and unlocked it. He cut the feed to the video and promptly deleted the file before crawling back into bed and holding her once more in his arms.

Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist || Bingo requests open!

Tag list: @gallickingun​, @dabi-hates-fish​, @hawksward​, @sadistiks​

[dadoroki]

Reminder [1]

Dabi x F!Reader x Hawks

Warnings: violence, fluff, Dabi is Touya and we know it clap your hands 👏🏻 👏🏻

Description: The League of Villains prepare for their upcoming raid. Dabi takes the time to study you, who he is already quite familiar with. The only problem is the one obstacle in his way.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The team of villains watched the screen closely. The Hero Billboard Charts had started not too long ago and this was the perfect opportunity to study the enemies.

Dabi scoffed in annoyance. The ceremony was just an entertainment event judged by popularity and had no real purpose. It goes to show how pointless the title “hero” really was.

Number three! She may not be the number one hero. However, she is the number one in stealing hearts! The hero who makes dreadful weather look beautiful,

Lightning Hero: Storm!

Dabi’s full attention was now on the screen, watching the camera pan up to your contoured face. The last time he saw you was when you both were kids. Now you’ve grown into something more beautiful than ever.

You gave the crowd a wink and turned to the camera, blowing a kiss to the audience from the other side of the screen. One thing that never left you was your flirtation and Dabi was glad you kept it. Twice squealed, tugging on Toga’s sleeve who shared the same reaction as him.

“She remembered us! That gives me a better reason to love her.”

Toga nodded and twirled around the dim room with blushed cheeks. “I know! Isn’t she dreamy? I wonder what her blood taste like!”

She stopped beside Dabi, leaning back on his arm. “Don’t you agree? Look at you, you’re blushing!”

The man shoved her off, looking away from the live video. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“All of you be quiet! You’re supposed to be studying them for battle and you’re all doing the exact opposite!” A furious Shigaraki yelled, silencing everyone and becoming more serious.

Number Two! He does things his own way but he’s fierce! With great momentum, he’s reached the number two spot!

Wing Hero: Hawks!

The hero ravishly posed with a hand placed on his hip, the other behind his head. Yeah, Keigo definitely didn’t change at all.

The top heroes stood in a line with Hawks already fidgeting with boredom. He whispered something to Endevour before turning to you, a hand covering his mouth from the audience. “Hey, you’ve heard what the media’s saying about us, right?”

You didn’t dare to take your attention away from the crowd infront of you, not even sparing the man one glance. “Because of you, people think we’re an item.” Hawks smirked, returning his gaze towards the audience. “What’s so wrong about that?”

You let your head fall forward, slowly shaking it back and forth in defeat. You had known Hawks at a young age, working together in the same commission. The more you both grew older, the more the bond between the both of you blossomed.

Apparently, Hawks had grown bored of the hero speeches, moving forward to grab the mic. “Hey, chicken wings. Wait your turn.” You hissed which he ignored. “Lets see.”

Flapping his big red wings, Hawks began to levitate above everyone. “If we’re just talking approval ratings, Storm is number one with the charm and flirting she does with the fans.” Hawks looked back at your annoyed face, smirking at your reaction. “Second is me, third is Edgeshot, and fourth is Endevour. I’ll skip the rest.”

“I think approval rating is the most important number right now. Though, I think the most important news everyone really cares about is if Storm and I are a thing.” You furrowed your eyebrows at the man above you. “What do you think you’re doing?” You whispered. The winged-hero ignored you, continuing on.

“There are speculations that we are dating, that we are hiding our relationship, or that we are even married. But the truth is, the rumours are just rumours. We aren’t together. At least not yet.”

You squeezed the bridge of your nose, growing more annoyed. “Hawks, cut it out.” You were tired of reading articles and sources giving false accusations and now, Hawks was doing them a huge favour by stirring the pot even more. He flew towards you, stopping beside you with a wide smirk. “Lets give the fans what they want. If I save the day yet again, you have to agree to go on a date with me.”

“A public proposal!” The moderator exclaimed in excitement. Cheers erupted from the crowd and you could practically hear it from around the world. You glanced up at the cocky man. He knew exactly what he was doing and he knew you’d have to agree in order to keep the people happy. He lowered the mic to you. “Well, what do you say, Y/N?”

Everyone grew in anticipation for your answer, even the heroes beside you and the moderator. You desperately wanted to say no but Hawks had you pinned in every corner. You sighed and gave in. “Fine.”

Everyone in the packed stadium shouted in joy, clapping and rising to their feets. Except for the ones who wanted Hawks’s spot, groaning in disappointment. You just got yourself into a terrible unfixable mess. Hawks lowered the mic, never looking away from you and keeping that same cocky little smirk. “There’s no going back now, babe.”

From the League of Villains lounge, a groan from Twice and Toga escaped. They were upset but not as angered as Dabi. He clutched his fist tightly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen.

A young Keigo and Touya was sitting on a curb by the building. Touya began to fiddle with his fingers, thinking deeply about something that’s been bothering him.

“Do you think Y/N likes me?”

Keigo released the red feather he was playing with and faced the flustered boy. “Maybe, but who knows? She could possibly like me instead.”

Keigo was always competitive. His words didn’t affect Touya because he knew deep down, it was all just Keigo’s competitive nature. Plus, the boy promised him that he’d never in a million years like you. That was until his “disappearance”.

Even though Touya was “dead”, he was never really gone. He cared for his friends and watched over them. That’s when he noticed the change in Keigo. It would start off as subtle moves, gradually growing into full-on flirting. Of course you just had to be oblivious, your natural flirtation not helping the situation at all.

Touya felt betrayed. Not by you. He’d never blame you for anything. But who he did feel betrayed by was Keigo. The boy was supposed to be his friend. He swore he’d never see you as anything more than just a friend. And there he was, laughing with you, smiling at you, holding you close.

Touya’s trust in people would never be the same and he’d do anything to get back at Keigo.

“You alright there, Dabi?”

Dabi ignored the worried Twice and stormed out of the room, leaving everyone confused.

With weeks worth of preparation, the small group of top pro heroes hid quietly behind the buildings, getting ready to initiate their plan. Thankfully for you, you weren’t partnered up with Hawks but instead with Mirko.

“Pretty lady, do you copy? Do you copy, pretty lady? Over.” Psss

You placed a hand on your earpiece, scoffing at the nickname. “What?”

“Oh, you’re alive. Good. So for our date, where do you wanna go? Over.” Pss

“You don’t have to say ‘over’ everytime you’re done talking. You know that right?”

Silence from the other line.

“Yakitori, got it. Over.” Pss

You sighed, releasing your hold on the piece. Mirko nudged your arm with a grin. “Was that your boyfriend?” Just hearing those words made you roll your eyes without the intent of even trying. “No, don’t have one and don’t want one. Unless you wanna be that special somebody to me.” You teasingly winked as a joke.

A signal interrupted your conversation, indicating it was go-time. You watched as the league exited their building and you raised your arms far apart, letting your quirk do the work. Clouds began to huddle against each other and violent lightning struck down, one hitting a power pole which caused an explosion. A perfect distraction.

With that, the heroes rushed into action. You flew your way to a group of Twice’s duplicates and took a stance. You didn’t even have to fight since the men were already giving you heart eyes, arguing with one another on who loved you more. That allowed you to send a huge storm of wind their way, causing them to fly in all types of directions.

Before catching a break, you felt a shadow behind you which made you fully turn, quick to grip the sharp blade by your neck. Toga licked her lips and maliciously smiled at you. “Storm, right? I’m such a huge fan.” You hissed at your opened wound that began to slowly drip of your blood. “Yeah, I bet you are, sweety.” You gazed up at the newly crowded clouds you created, sending a lightning strike to the girl who fell down unconscious.

You were about to attack one of the Nomus until one of the villains caught your eye. Dabi slowly trailed his way towards a busy Hawks with angry eyes. But they weren’t just angry. Those eyes held frustration, disgust, even a look of lifetime rage.

Dabi didn’t have enough time to meet with Hawks but instead, he was met with you as you flew infront of him. He smirked and dusted his hands on his black pants. “Well isn’t she a beauty?”

You scoffed at the compliment, preparing yourself for battle. “Ever wondered what would happen if you mixed fire with lightning?”

The man only held his smirk, prepping his hands. “No, but I’d like to see what it could create if you know what I mean.”

Electrical discharge shot out of your hands and towards Dabi, him doing the same with his flames. Both lightning and fire met eachother in the center and it was an ongoing battle to see which person it’d end up striking. Instead, it caused another huge explosion and the impact caused you to shoot back.

You fell to the ground, scrapes and bruises forming on your body from the rough fall. Smoke surrounded the two of you and you heard the villains retreat from the battlefield.

“I guess our time is cut short. I’ll see you around.”

Dabi began to walk away before stopping, taking one last glance at you.

“Oh, and Y/N...”

Your head shot up at the sudden call of your name. The name you’ve never heard come out of anyone’s mouth with an exception of Hawks. He was the only person who’d be able to call you by that forbidden name.

“Don’t forget that promise you made for me.”

What promise? You’ve never met this man until today. With that, the scarred man left you with nothing but confusion.

[vannahfanfics]

Riveting Life Experiences

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Nami, Vivi Nefertari

Additional Tags: Modern AU, High School AU

Hey, everyone! This story was originally going to be for the One Piece School Zine, but unfortunately it could not be completed due to the pandemic. Still, I thought I would post it for everyone to enjoy!

“Thank you! Enjoy the rest of the festival!” Vivi called gleefully as their latest customer departed, snacking animatedly on the creamy chocolate-covered banana they had just purchased from her and Nami’s booth. Their chocolate-covered banana stand nestled in the junction of the east and west halls and overlooked the stairs leading down to the main rotunda. Nami, fundraiser extraordinaire, had snagged the spot to ensure maximum foot traffic. Vivi suspected that some arm-twisting and potentially frightening threats had been involved, but hey, they’d already made tons of money! Vivi wasn’t about to complain. 

Nami snickered devilishly as she leafed through the stack of cash they’d already accumulated in their first two hours of opening. 

“Nami,” Vivi laughed with cinched eyebrows, “you know you can’t keep that money, right? All the proceeds are going toward our oceanography club!” As Vivi playfully chided her best friend, the redhead flashed her a sardonic smirk. 

“Considering I am the president of the Oceanography Club, the money does technically go to me,” she corrected, now fanning herself with the fat stack of bills. “So, I am going to enjoy this, Vivi, dear.” Vivi could not help but chuckle at Nami’s affluent and opulent attitude. 

“All right, Miss President,” Vivi conceded amusedly. The blunette returned her gaze to the front of their booth, where rich chocolate-coated peeled bananas stood in plastic trays that Vivi had adorned in fun stickers to enhance the appeal. Above the colorful flowers and rainbows and a very tasteful unicorn, the candied bananas perched in all their splendor. Some of them simply sported the enamel-like hard chocolate shell, while others flaunted crushed nuts, sprinkles, marshmallow chunks, or swirls of peanut butter. Vivi’s mouth watered as she admired them. 

“Excuse me! I’d like two chocolate bananas, please!” 

Vivi jolted as she was suddenly addressed. It took her a moment to regain her bearings, so her hands fluttered uselessly across the counter while her mouth opened and shut uselessly. The girl before the stand blinked curiously at Vivi’s odd behavior, stroking a swathe of her voluminous wavy black hair. 

“That one, please,” the girl quipped simply with a point of a manicured nail at a peanut butter swirl banana. “Two,” she reminded as Vivi went to pluck one from the display. Cheeks burning, Vivi quickly did as told. 

“That’ll be five hundred Berries, please.” The girl held the two bananas by the sticks between her middle and third fingers while she fished some bills out of her uniform pocket. Vivi’s fingers quivered slightly as she took the money from the girl, who thanked her cheerfully before skipping over to a lanky, tan-skinned, dark-haired man with golden eyes lounging by one of the windows and looking totally unimpressed by the school festival. 

“Law! Law! I got us some chocolate-covered bananas.” 

“Baby 5, I didn’t want— ugh, no, don’t cry— fiiiiine…” 

Vivi continued to stand there with carnation-pink cheeks. I can’t believe I was fantasizing what they’d taste like! she thought ashamedly. Her focus should be on making their booth a great success, not consuming the merchandise. However, even as she chastised herself, Vivi’s eyes drifted back down to the scrumptious-looking treats. 

“So, Vivi,” Nami asked suddenly. Her slightly inquisitive tone jerked Vivi’s eyes away from the candy-coated bananas. Nami still fanned herself nonchalantly with the wad of cash. “What made you choose chocolate-covered bananas, of all things?” 

Vivi’s face immediately alighted with a self-conscious blush again. As she shied away from her friend’s inquisitive stare, Vivi worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She began to swing her body slowly from side to side, eyes flickering from the fruity treats to the redhead’s puzzled expression. Nami’s eyes darted up and down her form, analyzing her body language, but she waited for Vivi to speak instead of prodding her into further fluster. 

“You promise that you won’t laugh?” 

“Why would I laugh? Surely your reason for picking chocolate-covered bananas isn’t a knee-slapper,” Nami frowned with a raised eyebrow. Vivi’s cheeks brightened to a lovely shade of rose pink, prompting her to press her palms against her face. They immediately began to sweat from the sheer amount of heat rolling off her skin. 

“Well, I… Before moving here to Japan, I researched popular trends and events, and happened upon information concerning popular snacks sold at booths like these…” She trailed off as an uncomfortable wave of nervous nausea blossomed in her belly. Nami’s orange eyebrow crept higher and higher up her forehead as she began to stare at Vivi, nonplussed. 

“And…?” 

“One of them was chocolate-covered bananas.” 

Silence settled between them. Vivi squirmed under Nami’s persistent blank stare. She desperately wished that some emotion would show on Nami’s face— confusion, derision, amusement— anything. Instead, her face was a blank slate, her chocolate-brown eyes owlishly wide as the gears turned in her head. 

Finally, a smile cracked the vacantness of Nami’s ogle. 

“Vivi, why would you think I would laugh at that? That’s adorable!” the redhead squealed and lunged forward to wrap her arms loosely around Vivi’s shoulders. Vivi blushed brightly, both at her statement and the sudden half-embrace. 

“R-really?” Vivi squeaked, grabbing Nami’s forearms. Nami flashed her a friendly smile, which caused the little bubbles of anxiety in Vivi’s body to burst one by one. “Thanks… I just thought it was so silly,” she confessed with a light laugh. 

“Aw, Vivi,” Nami smiled sweetly. “I don’t think it’s silly at all. You were excited to come to a new place and learn about all the local cultures. I think that’s really cool, actually.” 

“You really think so?” Vivi asked doubtfully. Nami’s smile widened, and she raised a hand to boop her gently on the tip of her nose. Vivi snickered at the intimate gesture. 

“Yeah! So… Have you ever had a chocolate-covered banana?” Nami asked with a raised eyebrow. When Vivi shook her head, Nami slipped her arms from around Vivi’s to pluck two of the delectable banana treats from the display case. Vivi blushed as Nami presented the fruit on a stick to her. “Go on! Take it!” the redhead insisted, reading Vivi’s unsure expression. “We’ve made plenty of money today; I won’t miss the revenue from a couple of bananas,” she laughed when Vivi’s eyebrows knitted further. 

Reluctantly, Vivi took the chocolate-covered banana. She turned the wooden skewer slightly between her thumb and forefinger to inspect the treat from all angles. It was one of the marshmallow-coated ones; the soft, cylindrical structures protruded from the coat of brown candy as rocks rose from cresting waves. After a moment of considering it, she timidly leaned forward to bite off the end of the banana. She immediately released a satisfied hum. 

The milk chocolate melted as soon as it hit her tongue, spreading the rich, decadent flavor over her taste buds. The mute sweetness of the banana complimented it supremely, and the pillowy sweetness of the marshmallows perfected the harmony of flavors. Vivi couldn’t help immediately diving in for another bite before she’d even swallowed the first, eyes fluttering shut. Her lashes immediately parted again when she heard Nami chuckle. 

“It’s good, huh?” the girl said as she bit into her own banana, one with rainbow sprinkles adorning its chocolate shell. Nami released a similar hum of gratification. “Delicious! I knew I had a stroke of genius for me to ask Sanji to prepare these.” 

“I bet it didn’t take much convincing, either, considering you have him wrapped around your finger,” Vivi teased, sticking out the tip of her tongue with a playful wink. Nami smirked triumphantly. 

“Hehe, well, he is particularly susceptible to my feminine wiles,” Vivi’s counterpart snickered cheekily. As if summoned, Sanji’s voice came floating down the hallway, rising above the din of pleasant conversation and contented laughter. 

“Nami-swaaaaaaan~! Viviiiiiiiiiiii!” 

Both of the girls turned to see the blond charging through the crowd, hearts beating in his eyes and trills flying from his mouth as he zoomed from the other end of the school building. Nami leaned on the counter, resting her cheek on her hand and preparing a demure smile. Vivi rolled her eyes; Nami was preparing to swindle Sanji out of several bananas’ worth of his restaurant wages. 

Nami was the queen of the hustle, after all— but of course, Vivi was her back-up, so she too draped herself over the edge of their booth to seductively chomp on the chocolate-covered banana. She smirked as Sanji nearly fainted on the spot from the two girls smiling so charmingly at him. Though they’d only just begun, Vivi checked a successful school festival off her list of riveting life experiences. Oh, and trying chocolate-covered bananas, too.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[chucklegigglechortlesnort]

“Levi’s”

👉👈 i wrote this a while ago and... it’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks bc i’m not really sure about it but i mean it’s something right???

this concept popped into my brain after i bought a levi’s hoodie and connected the dots a little later

i hope it’s enjoyable

warnings: minor angst to fluff

Shoving open the door to your room, you flopped onto your bed with a dramatic huff.

You had spent the day in the human world, having accompanied Lucifer and Diavolo on business and the days events had left you completely drained.

Well, almost completely.

You still had enough left in you to spend some time with Levi, who you had promised earlier that day that you’d at least start a new anime that he’d been excited to watch.

You were exhausted and running on fumes but you couldn’t bring yourself to cancel on him last minute. He was just so excited about it and you didn’t want to ruin that by going back on your plans.

You pushed yourself up with a huff, rummaging through the bag of belongings you had managed to convince Diavolo and Lucifer (more so Lucifer - Diavolo was actually curious to see where you lived and therefore easy to convince) to let you snag from your apartment before you returned home to the Devildom.

You quickly shed your daytime wear for an over-sized hoodie and a pair of pajama shorts. Vastly more comfortable, you stepped in front of the mirror - more out of habit than anything else - to check your appearance. The hoodie you had chosen had a large “Levi’s” logo displayed on the front and you snickered to yourself. It was by pure coincidence that you had it, but you couldn’t help but snag it when you saw it hanging in your closet. It was too perfect to pass up and you figured you’d wear it as a joke, even if it wasn’t that funny.

You completed the look with a pair of fuzzy socks before leaving for his room.

When you reached his room, you knocked three times followed by two taps and a jiggle of the doorknob.

“What’s the pass-code?”

“No matter how deep the night -”

“- It always turns to day eventually.” 

There was a click and the doorway opened a crack. Levi peers out, looking around before yanking you into his room. You roll your eyes at his theatrics but allow a smile to creep onto your face as he shuts the door behind you.

“Ready to get this party started?” You asked.

Immediately his face lit up in excitement. It was cute how enthusiastic he was about every new anime or game he started and you couldn’t help but share it. He launched into rambling about how many rave reviews it had gotten, and how it was animated by one of his favorite studios and written by one of his favorite manga authors.

A giggle escaped you on accident and Levi glanced up to defend himself, but any retort quickly died in his throat as soon as his gaze landed on your hoodie. 

A flush rose to his cheeks as he stared at the Levi’s logo splayed across your chest. 

“Levi? Hello? You-”

“Y-your shirt- it- why does it have my name on it?”

You glance down, having momentarily forgotten about your little joke. You let out another giggle, much to Levi’s dismay. 

“Oh, yeah! It’s a popular brand up in the human world and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Funny right?”

Funny.

Levi guessed one would consider that an amusing coincidence, if they weren’t him. 

Or if they didn’t have a massive, ugly crush on you.

Or if the fact that you were basically wearing an item of clothing that declared you as his didn’t nearly send them into a cardiac arrest.

Then yeah he guessed that maybe ‘funny’ would be a way to describe this particular coincidence.

“Y-yeah. Sure.”

The oddly curt response caught you slightly off guard as he turned to stiffly stride over to the gigantic bean bag stationed in front of the obscenely large flat screen that sat opposite of it. You were slow to trail after him, hesitant after the rather cold exchange.

You plopped yourself down beside him on the beanbag moving in to cuddle up to his side, as usual (it had taken him a while to get used to this in the beginning, but luckily he had warmed up to the affection and was often reluctant to let go at the end of the night). However, he not-so-subtly scooted away from you, much to your disappointment.

Had your joke really been that bad?

You knew he may not have found it that funny but... still. You had at least expected a ‘dumb normie’ comment or something.

The terribly familiar concoction of anxiety and shame crept up on you as you settled into your seat, grabbing a pillow from nearby and hugging it to your chest to try and muffle the feeling. You crushed the cushion against you and wrapped your arms around your knees as Levi grabbed the remote and started the anime.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t bring yourself to pay attention, your brain was too occupied with picking apart and replaying the scenario. The soft flashing images only encouraged this hypnotizing lull of negative thoughts and none of your efforts to snap yourself out of it seemed to work. Somewhere in your mind you knew you should stop and that it was ridiculous to get so worked up about such a small issue - if you could even call it that - but the mindset to put that into action eluded you.

At some point your gaze had drifted over to Levi, who was seemingly fine, as well as completely engrossed in the show.

It must’ve been just you then. 

Levi must’ve felt your gaze burning into the side of his skull, because his own eyes flicked over to meet yours and his face went crimson.

“What are you staring at?”

The bite in his voice only managed to strike you deeper.

You felt a tightness in your throat and a stinging sensation beginning to rise behind your eyes.

Nonononono this wasn’t happening. Not over something this freaking stupid.

‘It’s not a big deal.’ You told yourself. ‘You’re reading way too much into it, just stop you idiot.’

However, much to your further disappointment in yourself, you couldn’t manage to hold back your tears.

You tightened your hold on the pillow and buried your face into it in order to muffle your sniffles. The patheticness of your situation did absolutely nothing to improve your mood and all you wanted to do was leave and go to bed so you could cry yourself to sleep like a loser and forget about it in the morning. And probably never where this hoodie again.

This stupid hoodie.

You could feel your sinuses plugging up with mucus and the urge to sniffle came once again, except this time you forgot to hide it with your pillow.

Levi’s gaze fell on you once again at the sound. How were you crying already? You were only on episode three and nothing major happened- it was a slice of life for hell’s sake. It took him a second to register that your eyes weren’t even on the screen and that they were glued to somewhere on the floor and as soon as he saw the welled up tears in your eyes, he panicked.

“_-_____? W-what the hell are you crying for?!”

That’s it. You were absolutely mortified.

“I-it’s nothing, I’m fine, Leviathan. I’m probably overtired. I think I’m just gonna call it a night, okay?” Your voice came out rushed and cracked as you uttered ‘fine’ but you didn’t waste any time dwelling on it as you slid off the bean bag.

Oh. Oh no. You used his full name. You only ever used his full name when you were upset. With him. Oh god oh fuck what had he done.

You were already halfway across the room when he had finally worked up the nerve to chase after you. 

“Wait! _____, I-”

“-Was my joke really that bad?”

Levi froze as you turned around to face him, eyes glossed over with tears and directed anywhere but back at him.

“Huh? No!”

“Well then are you mad at me because we had to postpone tonight a bit because I went to the human world? I thought you were fine with that.”

“No that’s not-”

“Then, why?” Your eyes finally met his, but Levi wasn’t sure if he was relieved or if he just felt worse.

The avatar of envy’s mouth snapped shut and he thought over his next words carefully.

“Why... what?”

Nice. Good one Levi.

Your shoulders dropped and you stepped away.

“...Never mind. Goodnight, Leviathan.”

Levi flinched at the use of his full name, watching as you turned toward the door and crossed the rest of the room.

You placed your hand on the door knob, gently turning it with fatigue that showed in your every move. 

The way your shoulders sagged and the hecitance in your step caused a heavy dread to settle in Levi’s gut and in less than a second he had crossed the remainder of the room, wrapping his arms around you from behind and tugging you into his chest. His face settled in the junction of your neck and shoulder and you had to keep yourself from shuddering when his breath hit your skin.

“Levi-”

“I’m sorry.”

It was barely a whisper but you had heard it perfectly clear.

“I’m sorry for being mean, and for not laughing at your joke, because it was really c-cute and you’re really cute and- um I guess I just didn’t know how to react but that’s because I’m just a stupid shut in and I don’t want you to think that I’m an icky creep or something even though I’m probably not doing that great a job of convincing you other wise and I’m sorry about that too- “

“-Levi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“You’re not just a stupid, creepy shut-in, okay? And I definitely don’t think you are.”

His grip loosens around your shoulders and you wiggle around in his grasp to face him. Your eyes are glazed over and tired, but despite that he can see sparks of something akin to adoration shining in them.

“You don’t?”

“Mm mm.” You hum, shaking your head.

It’s at this point that Levi realizes that your faces are inches apart, and the entirety of your body is pressed flush against his. His face is immediately overtaken with red and he slowly eases away from you. His large hand wraps around your smaller one and he grazes his thumb back and forth over your palm.

“D-do you... want to stay the night?”

You nod softly, a smile gracing your features once again, much to Levi’s relief.

“Yeah, sure.”

He’s quick to tug you back over to the plush bean back in front of the TV, figuring it’s a bit more spacious than his bathtub. He plops down and pulls you into his lap before he can chicken out, wrapping his arms around your waist so you’re pressed against his chest once again.

There are a few beats of silence before Levi’s voice rings softly in your ears, mumbling groggily as he drifts off to sleep.

“...You should wear that hoodie again.”

“...Hm... mabe I will.”

. . .

“Oh, and Levi?”

“Hm.”

“Apology accepted.”

The next thing Levi feels is a pair of lips ghost across his neck, but not a second later you’re out like a light.

You were certainly, with out a doubt, going to be the death of him.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

Castles Made of Sand

All credit goes to Jimi Hendrix for this borrowed title. After way too much time (thanks to our good friend Writer’s Block and hating the first route I took with this which lead to a complete rewrite), I am finally getting back to finishing up my last two remaining requests for my milestone event. This one was requested by @something-tofightfor, who chose image 5 for Benjamin Greene x reader. In lieu of going to the actual beach, stay inside, social distance, and imagine yourself there with this sugarplum instead. I hope you enjoy!

Image prompt 5: Benjamin Greene x reader

Rating: R solely because B. Greene is one sexy mofo. If you haven’t watched Gold Digger, there are spoilers you’ll come across in this one.

Word count: 2889.

Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @my-rosegold-soul @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws

If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.

Special thanks to @the-blind-assassin-12 for beta reading!

Once again, enjoy and thank you for reading!

Benjamin’s mouth had embarked on a journey. He’d made his way down the straight line of the back of your neck, and now was tirelessly pressing light kisses down the column of your spine. The heat of his breath was a sharp contrast to the air conditioning in the room, and he was sending literal shivers up your spine. Your eyes had fallen shut when he’d started on your neck, his long fingers threading through your hair. 

“You taste like saltwater and sunshine,” he stopped just long enough to murmur into your ear. He’d changed direction, rerouting and taking a detour up toward your other shoulder. Gathering your hair to sweep it out of his way, he ran a palm over your skin, brushing off several grains of sand that had been stuck there, reticent to let go. I understand completely, he thought to himself, a shadow of a smile curving his lips as they landed on you once again: one soft feather of a kiss followed by his mouth closing over a spot at the base of your neck, gently swiping his tongue over a patch of skin, tasting saltwater again before sucking gently, his intention to leave a mark clear.

You hummed softly, appreciatively, and grinned lazily as you opened your eyes. Benjamin hadn’t been excited about your idea for a weekend at the beach; he’d actually been a bit tight-lipped any time you’d mentioned it, which was strange-- you found that Benjamin was usually forthcoming about most things, with just a short list of exceptions: his childhood, his brother Kieran, and his ex-wife Julia. 

“I never knew you had hard feelings toward the beach,” you’d joked with him good-naturedly. You’d purposely avoided the topic for three entire days, and Benjamin had finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that maybe you’d given up your idea of a weekend away. I’d love a weekend holiday, just one that doesn’t include sand, he’d thought to himself, every time you’d made the suggestion. But Benjamin knew it had not so much to do with sand at all. It had everything to do with Kent. 

He did everything he could to avoid returning to the area. He’d done everything possible to leave his childhood and years in Kent behind, to start a new life, and he’d succeeded in doing so. But when Benjamin thought about the place, his heart dropped and his pulse raced at the same time. He felt like the former version of himself, the name Sean White haunting him, circling over his head like a vulture. It was always there. Benjamin was, down to his bare bones, a taller version of the boy with the name he could never escape— the boy who had spent time behind bars, who had nothing, who spent the most desolate and miserable years of a life he’d love to forget—in Kent. 

                                         ***          ***         ***

“We used to spend half of the summer on the beach,” you had continued, your voice light with excitement, words spilling from your mouth quicker than usual. “We’d deviate here and there, but we spent most of our beach days in Broadstairs. Joss Bay. Just as beautiful as Botany, but without so many tourists.”

Benjamin had just watched and listened, expressionless. He wasn’t the type to keep at reading, his usual task at hand, while someone was speaking, whatever the topic… even if it was highly irritating. 

But you, well, you just laughed, getting to your knees and knee-stepping the rest of the way to where he was sitting, a high-backed and slightly-distressed armchair. The end table and lamp were perfectly-suited for his academic pursuits and cerebral hobbies. 

Benjamin’s eyes followed your movement, unable to help a small, wary shadow of a smile appear, vanishing as suddenly as it had come on. You were there then, your forearms resting atop his knees and looking up at him with wide doe-eyes, unconscious of just how beautiful you always looked from his view. 

You had only met three months ago in an otherwise empty corridor at university, but things had gone swimmingly between the pair of you. Benjamin was well aware, and quite often, that he was falling for you, hard and fast and much too much all at once.  He knew that if he wanted your relationship to progress much father— I do, I want her, I want to need her out of love, not from dependency—he’d have to tell you everything; the absolute truth. I want this, with her: the antithesis of what I thought I had with Julia. 

That thought, each time it invaded his mind, caused his heart to pound irregularly, his surroundings to tilt before his eyes. Perhaps he needed you already.

He heard the music of your laughter, the quick glossy look in his eyes vanishing within a split-second. Her smile could illuminate entire cities. 

“I know,” you continued with a slight wrinkle of your little nose, “That it’s quite popular, and the waves are rather choppy, but the sand is still white and the view…” you trailed off, shaking your head slowly as a warmth of nostalgia flooded your senses. 

You were still enamoured by the beach, as you always had been— the horseshoe shape of the coast, the white chalk cliffs, the carefree atmosphere and the smell of the saltwater. Your times there at Botany Bay in Broadstairs were some of your favorites, hands sticky with ice pops melting too quickly, briefly staining the sand. 

“What do you say, B? I’ll find a nice place to say, we’ll spend a long weekend in Kent. It’s lovely there, you—“

Benjamin spoke your name softly, but there was a strange firmness to his tone. Never one to interrupt, you were a bit caught off-guard. As he removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose, you lowered yourself down to your haunches, allowing your arms to fall from his knees to your sides. You’d seen Benjamin tired. You’d seen him dejected, frustrated over a paper or two that he’d gotten stuck writing, but this… this was something different. And perhaps you were being a bit sensitive, but your feelings were a bit hurt. 

To top things off, you didn’t know how to react to an emotion you’d never seen before from the man you’d been seeing for just three months. Operating on instinct, you just nodded— though you were thoroughly confused— and stood, offering him a soft apology as you went to your small kitchen to put the kettle on. 

Just as you placed the kettle on the stove to heat, Benjamin appeared in the doorway. You forced a smile, hoping it was convincing enough to pass. “Chamomile or lemon balm?” you asked. He took a few long strides and pulled out a chair, sitting at the table, and bit at his bottom lip. 

“Chamomile… There’s.. I’ve…” Benjamin scrubbed his hands over his face in irritation. His nerves were getting to him. Anxiety was thieving his words. “I can’t go to Kent, Y/N.”

You turned to lean against the countertop. Crossing your arms over your chest as you furrowed your brow, it was obvious you were concerned. Benjamin had grown up in Newenden, a small port village immediately north of the River Rother, as an only child. You searched his face and saw tension in the set of his jaw. The rise and fall of his chest seemed almost labored, and when he looked at you, you were startled by the look of pain in his eyes. 

“My childhood.. it wasn’t like yours.” His voice sounded thick. “My mum was not an attentive mother. All of her care was concentrated on landing her next fix, and Kieran and I—“ He stopped short and shook his head, staring down at the table, tracing a knot in the wood with his index finger. “My… brother.” He struggled with the word, his jaw flexing. 

Your eyes widened and you opened your mouth to speak, but all that spilled forth was silence. He’s lied to me. You felt your chest seize and it was like his words stole your breath from your lungs. Your heart thrummed erratically. He’s been lying to me.

“Older brother.” Benjamin continued, and his voice became unsteady as he went on. “Kieran had no father figure and mine was… fucking useless.” Upper lip curved in contempt, his nostrils flared in anger as the kettle began its shrill whistling. Quickly, though you felt as if you were in a haze, you darted to the side to quiet the sound, wondering how long you could keep your hands busy preparing two cups of tea. 

“When my mum died, Kieran did everything in his power to make everything normal, to watch over the two of us. We had no money and no place to go.  Just 50 quid, mate, to get us through the month. He already had a plan on how to get the money… ‘Just stand and keep watch, alright? Just keep watch.’” 

Benjamin was unaware, but he was sneering-- his jaw clenched, brows knotted, his mouth set in straight line. But the part that was most jarring was the wildness in his eyes. Benjamin, what have you done? Your hands shook as you brought tea to the table, and you wondered for a moment when you’d managed to steep the tea bags. You had no recollection. Benjamin’s words were ricocheting in your head. You felt angry for being lied to, betrayed. You felt a dull ache in your chest for Benjamin and all that he’d been through. You felt a heavy guilt for unknowingly being so inconsiderate in badgering him about a beach trip. You felt like the foundation of your relationship had been cracked irreparably, like the fault lines in dry earth from an earthquake.  Setting one steaming cup of tea in front of Benjamin, you sank into a hard kitchen chair across from him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “So I stood there, and I stood there… and I heard something and then… there was all this blood…” 

Benjamin’s voice was shaking and as you looked up at him, you saw that his face was wet with tears, droplets falling from his cheeks and onto the table. He swallowed hard. “I took the blame, Y/N. I took the blame and I paid for it and he… he let me.”

“Oh, Benjamin.” You rose from the seat you’d just taken and walked to stand in front of him. You could see the agony in his eyes; there was no way anyone could fake that. “Benjamin, I’m sorry.” Tentatively you sat on his knee, and he shook his head.

“I should’ve told you, I planned to. When’s the right time to--”

You interrupted him by wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your cheek atop the crown of his head. Your anger melted away and the only thing you wanted to do was take it away. It was impossible, you knew, so you’d have to settle for offering comfort. For being there. 

“There isn’t,” you said, frowning into his hair. You softly ran your nails over the back of his neck and the two of you sat in silence for a moment. Closing your eyes, you turned to press your lips to his head before pulling away to look down at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words would come out. They were stuck someplace between your heart and your throat.

“As soon as I could,” he continued, blinking tears away, “I left. I got out of Kent, and I made a new life for myself, changed my name, got a job, and an ex-wife.” Benjamin attempted to smile, but the corners of his mouth just twitched instead, and no light reached his eyes. “Shawn White follows me every step of every day and I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“I don’t know a Shawn White.” Just saying the name felt strange on your tongue, and you vowed to never speak it again. “I know Benjamin Greene. I know that he helps strange women carry loads of sketchbooks to her office.” You smiled softly, the memory of how you’d met a vivid memory in your mind. “I know that he’s a diligent student, and smart, and is a great copywriter.” Pausing, you kissed his forehead. “I know his favorite foods, the type of music he likes, that he’s funny and attentive.” Finally, you caught his eyes, a touch of sadness and sour regret still there. “I know that I care about him immensely.”

Benjamin had taken to lightly running both hands up and down your back, one on either side of your spine. He couldn’t believe your reaction, or lack thereof. There was no accusation. There was no venom in your tone, no indication that you didn’t believe him. He had confessed to you that his life was a lie, and there you were, beautiful on his lap, reassuring him of all that he was. And when you kissed him then, there was no bitter aftertaste of pity. And when Benjamin smiled afterward, it was genuine, and it reached his eyes. She’s unbelievable.

                                              ***          ***         ***

“You’re so pale. B,” you’d teased, all in good fun. “C’mere.”

You slathered Benjamin in sunscreen— SPF 45,  to be exact. He’d helped you with the hard-to-reach places of your own, his warm palms and long fingers working the lotion over your skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather spending our time in the air conditioning?” he joked, voice low in your ear. One last time, he rubbed one hand over either shoulder and leaned forward to kiss your temple. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps popping up In gentle pricks. 

“Are you trying to make me forget about my mission? Because it’s working.” You turnED your head, narrowing your eyes playfully at Benjamin before turning your attention to the array of sandcastles littering the beach. Most of them looked more like sculpted sand dunes or ant hills more than anything else, but there were some valiant efforts all the same. Your mission was to thwart them all. 

“Really, I desperately want to impress you with my architectural skills,” you kidded. . Reaching to your right, you swiped the tote bag you’d brought down with you and pulled out a bright red, plastic sand pail. It held two smaller sand molds inside and a small, yellow shovel hung  from the bucket’s handle. You beamed triumphantly. Benjamin threw his head back in laughter. 

“What?!” Your voice dripped with feigned indignence, but his laughter was absolutely contagious. A giggle bubbled forth from your throat before it turned into full-blown laughter. “These are fully functional multipurpose tools!” You defended the vividly colorful kids’ toys as you unloaded the smaller molds from the pail. 

“You are utterly bonkers,” Benjamin said decidedly as he slid his sunglasses downward to shield his eyes. He leaned back on his readily-spread beach towel, leaning back on his elbows with his long  legs stretched out in front of him. 

And you are a vision, Benjamin Greene. The rest of Botany Bay— the horseshoe shape of the coast in the distance, the sapphire blue water sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight, the clean, whit expanse of sand and the picaresque pillars of chalk in your periphery— they all paled in comparison. You loved Benjamin irrevocably. 

And he felt the same way, you reminded him. “You love me, especially the utterly bonkers part,” you chided, setting your building supplies to the side. Joining him on your own beach towel, you rest your chin in your hand, propped up on your side to look down at him. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to his lips, your tongue teasing his bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Remind me again what I am?” you teased. Your eyebrows were raised in question and your mouth quirked upward in a smirk. 

Benjamin groaned in response, dropping his upper body down into his towel unceremoniously. 

“Brilliant at baiting,” he answered, rolling his head toward you. He was smiling, and your heart danced in your chest. Here you were, with Benjamin Greene in Kent, and of his own accord. You’d be returning to work soon, and he’d planned an end-of-summer beach vacation, at the very one you’d mentioned all that time ago. He’d remembered. And he was happy. 

You sat up with a burst of energy. Sliding in your own sunglasses, you readjusted the messy bun you wore atop your head. It was time to get down to business. “Now, are you going to help me build our castle before the tide rolls in?” You paused and turned your head to glance at him over your shoulder. “I can offer a promise of air conditioning as an incentive.”

Suddenly invigorated, Benjamin pushed himself up to sit as well, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Move over, Y/L/N,” he said, reaching past your legs for the lemon- yellow shovel. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: pampering you 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: yukishiro azuma/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.8k words

𝐚𝐧: thank you for ordering, @sleepy-ruri​ ~ I actually used your tag game as a basis for certain parts~ anyways, I hope this was worth the wait! I was gonna go straight to the cuddle but got inspired to add some build-up.

The amount of sleep you get is a gamble between 4 hours and 20 hours, no in-between. Tonight was clearly heading towards the former, well if the caffeine swimming in your bloodstream had anything to say about it.

And that’s on coffee addiction, periodt.

It's pretty tough, on one hand, you valued your sleep. A comfy bed and a nice pillow taking you on a trip to meet the Greek god of slumber Hypnos himself was always ideal.

On the other hand, there were just too many things to do and too little time to do them. Sure, you had finished your work for the day, but you had a whole list of things you could stay up for without feeling an ounce of regret morning come.

Itaru told you that he saw a lot of potential in you ever since you opened up your wallet for that cat game everyone was playing during “The Great Sardine Search”. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

It started out with him recommending a few more casual and cute games, the usual cat and dog idle time waster games. After a few weeks, he had proclaimed it was time to “drag you into gacha hell with him,” whatever that meant.

It only started with a simple rhythm game, which not only had cute characters but was pretty free to play friendly.

Looking through the list the local gamer DMed you, you sighed in disappointment. Was it directed at Itaru for dragging you into this hellhole, or at yourself for succumbing to the joy and eternal suffering of gacha games? Who’s to say, really.

Obey Me!, three different Ikemen games, Twisted Wonderland, two Ensemble Stars games, a good amount of battle RPGs, one with handsome spirits, another with humanized swords, and a good amount of idol music games with either cute boys or girls to name just some of the titles.

Just looking at the google docs gave you a headache, they even came with little summaries and color-coded notes that made you wonder if Itaru tried out all of these at one point, even the otome ones. The very thought made you chuckle, plopping onto your bed as you decided to finally download one.

3 hours. Well, 2 hours and 48 minutes but who needs to know the finer details?

You’ve hit a new low, congratulations. Might as well have stayed up the whole time instead of going to sleep, but you ended up exhausting all your energy both in-game and otherwise. You ended up looking at gameplay guides until you inevitably passed out.

You wanted to sleep-in but there was still work to do. Trudging out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, several boys were already eating their breakfast.

“Good morning,” some of them turned to greet you, and you could see Yuki’s… disgust? Concern? Concern hidden under the guise of disgust?

“You look like a raccoon,” Yuki says bluntly as he stabs his pancake with a fork, “your shirt doesn’t even match your pants.”

You laugh, albeit tiredly, as you look down at the shirt you randomly snagged from your closet. Oh, haven’t seen this one in a while.

“That bad?”

Yuki scoffs at your question like it even needed to be asked, “you looked like you chose it blind.”

“Fufu, I’m sure there must be a reason why our dear director stayed up late,” a voice behind you says, patting down the bird’s nest on your head. It was difficult to resist his touch, even if it was just that little, and you found yourself shifting into a position where he’d have more access to pet you.

Did he say you had a good reason for staying up? If he thought so kindly of you, you’ll let it stay that way for as long as possible.

“Oh my, our director sure is affectionate today,” you didn’t realize that your eyes had closed until they fluttered open again, looking straight up at an amused Azuma.

“Sorry, having a hard time staying awake,” you muttered, still enjoying the man’s healing touch.  Ahh, no wonder he was so popular. Not only was he beautiful and a gentleman, but you could feel your stamina bar slowly filling up just by him petting you on the head.

“Agh, it’s too early in the morning for this,” Yuki grumbled, looking away to finish the rest of his meal, “you better fix yourself later.”

You were going to dig in the food Omi so helpfully served you, but Azuma’s eyes scrutinizing your face made you more conscious than usual. Sure, Yuki mentioned your eye bags but he seemed more bothered by your not-so-cute outfit choice.

With Azuma, who always did his best to maintain and improve his appearance, it was a little different.

“You poor thing, someone as cute as you doesn’t deserve to look so tired,” he tutted, letting out a thoughtful hum. It was difficult to read Azuma’s face, but gears seemed to be turning in his head as he combed through your hair.

He paused his ministrations to bring your face closer, and you quickly averted your gaze. You weren’t sure if the other boys were watching, but still!

“Azuma, can you-“

“Come to my room later, okay? If you’re going to stay up, at least let me help you take care of your skin, hmm?”

The offer was tempting. It was kind of embarrassing going to a man’s room at night, even more, embarrassing to have him look at your face closely, regardless if it was just to help you with your skin!

Then again, he was a comforting presence. Being around him rejuvenated your spirit, which was very needed after that horrible no event card, x10 summon and the migraine Sakyo’s logistics lecture gave you.

Knocking on his door, Azuma personally greeted and escorted you inside. He sat you down on his bed as he walked away to grab a whole tray of products, the different colors and sizes momentarily distracting you. You weren’t sure if you could count properly at this point, but weren’t there 10 different products?

“I think these products will work best with your skin. There are ten steps so pay close attention to me, okay?”

Something about the way he just said things were so alluring? It really wasn’t fair to you.

“Alright,” you watched as he plucked an amber-colored bottle from the tray, pushing the nozzle that released its contents onto his fingers. It looked like an oil product, shining as the pads of his fingers touched your face.

“This is an oil cleanser, it removes your make-up and draws out other oil-based impurities,” he explained, beginning to massage the cleanser in. By instinct you shut your eyes, enjoying the sound of laughter coming from Azuma.

“Don’t get sleepy yet, director~ We still need to wash your face a few times after this.”

...

After washing your face for the second time, Azuma said you could finally relax. Well, you were gonna take him up on that suggestion.

Tomorrow you’ll take note of all the different skincare products and the steps in the routine, but for now, it was hard to pay attention, what with Azuma pampering you and his silvery voice lulling you into sleep.

Surely there were a few more steps to go, right? You’ll get some shut-eye until he finishes, then.

Azuma takes notice immediately of your lack of responsiveness, not even a gentle hum to let him know you were listening. Watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, he smiles to himself as he continues. It’s not often he gets to see this side of you, so he thinks himself pretty lucky. He’ll spoil you as much as you want.

...

Your hair being played with rouses you awake and even through the haze of drowsiness and the lack of lights in the room, you can tell Azuma’s been at this for a while.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he says softly, and you were sure his playful teasing pinked your face.

“Sorry, how long was I asleep?” When you entered Azuma’s room there was still some noise outside from the rest of the boys, but now the silence made it feel like you two were the only people still up.

Of course, with someone like Itaru and maybe even Banri around, you doubted it.

“Long enough for me to finish my own nightly routine, actually.”

“Sorry for taking up your bed space. I’m sure you want your beauty sleep, too.”

You should move, but now you felt much too comfortable to even leave the bed. You knew some of the other boys have already slept over with him, Mankai’s local amnesiac being a frequent bed invader himself; would he be alright with it if you slept over?

You looked up at him, figuring out what to say or waiting for him to pitch the idea himself, but he only stared at you, patiently waiting for what you had to say for yourself.

“Could I sleep here tonight?” The corners of his eyes crinkled, lips lifted upwards. Maybe you never gave it much thought, but at that moment he gave off a warm glow, not unlike a fireplace on a cold, winter night.

“My room and bed will always have a space vacant for you, director.” His dulcet tones were like honey to your ears, sweet and loving, and like a moth to a flame you were entranced.

He carefully adjusted the pillows, lifting the blanket before snuggling beside you. He left a small space between the two of you, leaving you with the choice to come closer or not.

Scooting your body nearer, you turn around so that you faced the wall instead of him.

“Little spoon this time, then?” You don’t respond, not really finding a reason to do so. At first, he’s stroking your arm, fingertips drawing incomprehensible patterns and shapes against your skin. First on your hands, slowly moving upwards to your forearm, until he reached your shoulder where you could finally make out a shape.

Stopping him for a moment, you shift slightly to take his palm and trace back a heart.

“Oh, are you playing with me?” He murmurs, now fully encircling his arms around you, his stomach resting against your back. Your legs tangle slightly with his, as tucks his chin by your shoulder, making you two inseparable.

In the darkness, his embrace was like a small dose of heaven, and your senses were beginning to shut down once more.

He breathes in your sweet scent, and you take in the rhythmic beat of his heart as both of you finally close your eyes.

“Good night, Azuma.”

“Good night, lovely.”

When Azuma woke up, he was face to face with his precious director engulfed in his arms, still in dreamland. During the night you must have turned around to face him. He briefly considered waking you up or moving you to get up but shut the thought down just as fast. His skin care routine could wait a few minutes.

Silently, he observes your peaceful face for a little longer.

Sometimes getting up early isn’t bad at all. After all, he gets to see a cute sleeping figure beside him.

want to order again?

[woodstockbtswriter]

Formally

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (Female)

Word Count: 3K

Summary: When you need a date to a major event, your friend Hoseok volunteers, but as the big night unfolds, you start to realize that you might just want to be more than friends.

Author’s Note: I’ve had this story in my back pocket for a while now. I started writing it right after the MV for Ego came out, and it’s based on my feelings about J-Hope. I should probably preface this by saying I’m a pretty new ARMY, but before the video, I didn’t understand why so many people biased him (and I especially didn’t understand why the whole Dom!Hoseok thing was such a popular concept). I thought he was a sweet ball of sunshine, but I felt no attraction to him. Then after just one viewing of Ego - I got it. That first glimpse of him behind the wheel of a car piqued my interest, then the shot in the GIF above sealed the deal (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a good suit). So anyway, all I’m trying to say is that Jung Hoseok is a Daddy, and I now stan. 😄 Hope you enjoy this story!

Formally

“This is a big deal, noona! You have to go!” Hoseok exclaimed, turning the invitation over in his hands.

You knew he was right. You were a small fish in the big pond of the global corporation you were employed with, but you’d worked hard for years and were finally going to be recognized for your achievements at the company’s annual awards gala. This was an opportunity you shouldn’t pass up.

“I know, I want to, it’s just...” You hesitated, and Hoseok looked up, waiting for your objection. “This is the kind of thing you have to bring a date to,” You explained, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed, “And I don’t have anyone to go with me.”

A look passed across Hoseok’s face, as though he didn’t understand why that should be a problem. He then perked up, responding enthusiastically.

“I’ll go with you!” He declared, his smile brightening.

“What?” You asked, unable to mask your surprise.

Hoseok sat up straighter, his exuberance growing.

“I’ll go with you! I’ll have to move a few things around, but I can make it work.”

A smile slowly spread across your face while a comforting warmth blossomed in your chest.

“You would do that for me?” You asked Hoseok.

“Of course!” He beamed, like his response should have been obvious.

You shook your head, though your smile didn’t leave you.

“No, Hobi, I couldn’t let you to do that. That’s so sweet of you to offer and I really appreciate it, but-”

“It’s no problem!” Hoseok insisted, cutting you off. “You’re my friend, and I want to help you.”

You bit your lip. You tried to picture yourself at the party, with Hoseok’s arm around your waist. The image in your mind was lit by a barrage of camera flashes.

“There’s going to be press there, Hoseok. We’ll be photographed together if you go with me.”

Hoseok’s smile faded into a thoughtful expression, his dimples showing as he pursed his lips. Clearly, he hadn’t considered that. After a moment’s contemplation, he shrugged.

“We’re friends, noona. That’s not a secret. The world already knows you spend time with all of us. Why shouldn’t we go somewhere as friends?”

You were quick to respond.

“They’ll say we’re dating. You know they will.”

Hoseok was unfazed, shrugging again.

“So what? I don’t care, and neither should you. Noona, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you. I’m not going to let you miss it just because you’re worried about what people will think.”

You sighed. Your resolve was weakening and you were running out of excuses.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” You tried. “It’s a formal event. The dress code is black-tie.”

A huge grin broke across Hoseok’s face as he replied.

“Then we’re just gonna have to go shopping!” He practically sang.

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, okay! You win.” You acquiesced. “We’ll go.”

“Yes!” Hoseok clapped in excitement.

You smiled appreciatively at him, the comfortable warmth rising up in your chest again.

“Thank you, Hoseok.” You said, placing an affectionate hand on his arm. “Really, thank you. This means a lot to me.”

Hoseok wrapped his own hand around yours, squeezing gently.

“Of course, noona.” He smiled warmly. “You know I’m always here for you, yeah?”

You felt your stomach flutter.

You were friends with all the boys collectively, but you and Hoseok had never really spent any one-on-one time together. You’d always liked him, had always known he was kind and enjoyed his friendly demeanor, but you weren’t particularly close to him. The only reason you were having this conversation now was because he was the first one to arrive for dance practice today and you couldn’t wait any longer to share your news with someone.

But as you looked into Hoseok’s eyes, full of light and life, feeling the sincerity exuding from him, you realized he was exactly the kind of person you wanted to accompany you, and you knew that you were definitely going to enjoy getting to know him better.

“I think I’m starting to see that.” You told him as you slowly returned his smile, already feeling much closer to him.

-

You examined yourself in the dressing room mirror. It wasn’t even noon yet and you’d already tried on dozens of dresses at several different stores. One thing you could say for sure about Hoseok, the boy could shop. He’d helped you find some beautiful gowns, but none of them had been just right. This one already looked like another “no”.

“Noona?” Hoseok’s voice called from the other side of the dressing room door. “Are you dressed? Can I see?”

You sighed and pulled the door open, standing dejectedly in the doorway.

Hoseok could immediately tell you weren’t pleased.

“Oh,” He exhaled, taking it all in, “Yeah, I see.”

“Maybe yellow wasn’t the right choice.” You said, running your hands down the front of the satin dress. It had looked amazing on the mannequin, bold and chic, but after trying it on, you realized the color was all wrong for your skin tone.

“It’s okay, noona, we have plenty more choices.” Hoseok encouraged you.

Your shoulders sagged.

“Hobi...” You couldn’t help but whine. “I don’t want to try on any more dresses. I’m tired and hungry and nothing looks good on me and I just want to go. Let’s just face it, we’re not going to find anything today.”

Hoseok’s expression softened.

“Noona,” He said gently, “You know it’s not you, it’s the dresses, yeah? You are beautiful. We just have to find the right dress to accentuate your beauty.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You pouted.

“Tell you what, just try on one more for me, and if you don’t love it, I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Okay,” You sighed. “One more.”

-

Hoseok looked up from his phone when you stepped out of the dressing room a few minutes later wearing his latest dress choice, and his eyes noticeably widened when he saw you. His mouth fell open, his phone almost slipping from his fingers as his gaze swept up your full length, taking in every detail from your toes to your face and in-between.

Your cheeks felt suddenly warm as he looked at you. You swung the skirt a little, making it swish around your hips.

“What do you think?” You asked, anxious to hear his honest opinion.

His response was to mutter something in Korean that you were pretty sure was a swear word.

“Is that good or bad?” You chuckled.

“Good!” Hoseok assured, a broad grin lighting up his face. “Very good.”

You smiled back at him, then turned toward the full-length mirror. The brighter light outside the dressing rooms made the dress shimmer even more, and it was easy to see that the champagne color complemented your skin tone and hair color perfectly. You smoothed your hands over the dress, admiring how it fit your body. It hung just right, flattering every curve, and the neckline revealed just enough to be elegantly sexy. You could easily imagine yourself strutting into the party full of confidence in this dress.

Hoseok’s face appeared in the mirror just behind you, looking over your shoulder. His dark eyes shone with admiration and approval, and you realized you could easily imagine him next to you at the party, too.

“You look stunning, noona.” He said. “Like, so gorgeous. I mean, you’re always beautiful, but this is like, next-level beautiful.”

You grinned in appreciation.

“Thanks, Hobi. I think you picked a real winner.”

“Definitely.” He agreed. “I think we’re all done here. Now we just need to find matching shoes, and jewelry...”

He trailed off when he saw your face change. While he spoke, you had looked at the price tag on the dress.

“What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip. You knew it was too good to be true.

“This dress costs more than I make in a month.” You explained, your shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Hoseok. You picked an amazing dress, but I can’t afford it. We’re going to have to find something else.”

Hoseok just laughed, waving his hand dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it! I’m buying.”

“What?” You balked. “No! I can’t let you do that!”

Hoseok smiled gently, taking both of your hands in his.

“I’m buying this dress for you, noona.” His voice was kind, but firm. “And all the accessories. It’s not up for discussion. I want this to be one of the most memorable nights of your life, because you deserve it. Do you understand?”

The intensity of his gaze nearly gave you a chill. You’d never seen this side of him before. But you kind of liked it.

“Yes, sir.” You replied, giving him a smirk.

“Good girl.” He grinned, patting the back of your hand. “Now, let’s go get some lunch before we hit the shoe store.”

-

A few weeks later, you found yourself once again staring into a mirror while Hoseok waited patiently on the other side of the door. This time though, you weren’t in the changing room of a dress shop, you were in one of the fancy ladies’ rooms of a massive five-star hotel. You could hear the muted sounds of the live band and the hundreds of guests mingling as your company’s gala was in full swing just beyond the hallway. Only moments before, you and Hoseok had been out on the dance floor in the extravagant event hall, swaying together amongst many other couples. That is, until you had politely excused yourself. You’d needed a second to collect your thoughts.

In all your preparations for this night, you had never actually considered your date with Hoseok to be... well, a date. He was just helping you out, doing you a favor. As a friend. And that’s all you considered him. He was just your friend.

But when he showed up at your door earlier this evening, wearing an expertly-tailored and obviously very expensive suit, with his hair parted to expose his forehead, your gut reaction was not merely friendly.

In all honesty, the phrase “full-course meal” had immediately come into your mind.

Then he gave you a smile that held all the radiance of the sun, causing an equally wide grin to spread across your face as he reached for your hand. He spun you around slowly, appreciating your final look, complete with styled hair, polished makeup, and the accessories he helped choose.

“Look at you!” He effused. “You’re going to knock them out tonight, noona!”

His praise was not unusual, he was a known hype-man and he always had nothing but nice things to say about you, but something about the way his eyes sparkled and the way he didn’t let go of your hand after he spun you made his words more affective. A familiar feeling fluttered to life within you.

From then on and throughout the rest of the night, Hoseok had been a perfect gentleman and a model date.

He’d held the car door open for you, and driven safely to the event venue, chatting easily and happily all along the way (while looking remarkably attractive lounging in the driver’s seat, his long fingers caressing the steering wheel).

When you arrived downtown, he’d ushered you through the crowds outside the hotel, your arm securely linked through his, then posed comfortably with you in front of the photographers, his arm tightly around your waist and his expression smoldering.

Once inside, you’d introduced him to your colleagues, and he was charming and gracious, complimenting you profusely.

When you sat down to dinner, he held out your chair for you, engaged you in entertaining conversation throughout the meal, and even made a toast in your honor.

The awards were presented after dinner, and Hoseok cheered louder than anyone when you went up onstage to receive yours. He then listened attentively with his face glowing with pride as you gave a small acceptance speech, and wrapped you in the tightest hug when you returned to your seat.

When the awards ceremony concluded and the band started playing an upbeat song, he immediately led you out onto the dance floor, expertly twirling you around.

And throughout it all, with every little thing that Hoseok did, you felt your attraction to him (something that was virtually nonexistent before tonight) grow and grow.

Until finally, after a few lively numbers, the band slowed their tempo down, and a soft melody floated through the room. Hoseok’s smile, which had been broad all evening, softened as he pulled you in close, holding you cheek-to-cheek, one hand keeping yours against his chest, the other on your back. You clung together wordlessly for several moments, spinning around slowly, your heart thrumming inside your ribs.

Then Hoseok leaned back, looking you in the eyes.

“I’m so proud of you, noona,” He spoke softly. “You know that, yeah?”

You nodded, captivated by his gaze, and he lifted a hand to your face, gently brushing his fingers along your jawline. His face seemed to hover closer as he touched yours.

And that was when you had pulled away, and escaped to the privacy of the ladies’ room.

You squared with your reflection in the mirror, and decided to be honest with yourself. It had been building up to this all night, and now there was no use denying it: You had feelings for Hoseok. Strong feelings. And they were most certainly not platonic. You weren’t sure if he was feeling the same way, but you were sure that if you didn’t tell him what was in your heart, it was likely to burst.

So with a quick touchup of your makeup and a comb of your fingers through your hair, you straightened your dress and marched purposefully out of the restroom.

“Everything all right?” Hoseok asked when he caught sight of you, concern plain on his handsome face. Subconsciously, you wondered how the elegance of the long angles of his face had escaped your notice until tonight.

“Everything’s fine.” You reassured him. “But there’s something I want to tell you.”

His eyebrows pulled together pensively, but he waited for you to continue.

“I want you to know how much it means to me that you came with me tonight. You’ve been the best date a girl could ask for. Even though this isn’t a date date, but I guess that’s what I want to say...”

You looked up at Hoseok, taking a deep breath, attempting to slow the pounding of your pulse. His kind expression gave you the encouragement you needed.

“Hoseok,” You were choosing your words carefully, “What would you say if I told you... I find myself wishing... that this were a real date right now?”

He let out a small chuckle, his dimples showing.

“Noona...” Hoseok breathed, amusement plain in his tone as he stepped closer to you, his hands lifting to cup your face, “I know we agreed to come as friends, but this was always a real date to me.”

Then before you could react and with a smile still on his face, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

The smooth and gentle pressure of his warm mouth, the sure touch of his fingers on your skin, the heady scent of his cologne, and the lean firmness of his body all combined to give you butterflies and fireworks unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Hoseok’s kiss was soft, but full of passion. You could feel how much he meant what he said, and it made your legs feel weak.

“But if you like,” He spoke, pulling away just far enough to look at you, your face still in his hands, “We can be more formal about this. I could officially ask you out, if you want. Just so there’s no confusion.”

He was teasing, but you didn’t think it sounded like a bad idea.

“I would like that, actually.” You told him, smiling sweetly up at him.

Hoseok grinned, dropping his hands to grasp both of yours.

“Noona,” He said, pressing a quick kiss to your fingers, “Would you go out with me?”

“Yes. Tonight, and any time you want.” You answered him, sure your smile now rivaled his in conveying the brightness of the sun.

“Mmm,” Hoseok pretended to give it some thought, “How about every night? And every day. And all the time. How does that sound?”

It sounded amazing. You thought your heart might just soar away, carrying you with it.

“That sounds like you want me to be your girlfriend.” You replied.

Hoseok nodded, squeezing your hands, his grin not diminishing.

“What do you say?”

You slipped your hands from his grasp, running your fingers up his suit coat, gently grabbing the lapels and pulling him down to you.

“I say you’ve truly succeeded in making this one of the most memorable nights of my life.”

As soon as your words left you, you took his mouth with yours again, kissing his pretty lips with all the fervor you possessed. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his chest, and returned your kiss with enthusiasm, sweeping his tongue across your lips. Then just as you were about yield your mouth open to him, he leaned back again.

“So I was thinking,” He said, his breath hot on your flushed lips, “If the photos from tonight start rumors that we’re dating, I guess it won’t be such a big deal after all.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” You shrugged, then tugged again on his jacket. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, I just want to keep kissing you.”

Hoseok smirked at your response, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pinning your hips to his.

“Yes, jagi.” He murmured into your mouth, capturing your lips once again, and you melted into his embrace. Deepening the kiss, he tilted your head back, and as you savored the feeling of being happier than you’d ever been, any thoughts about returning to the party completely fled your mind.

[quintessenceofdust73]

WINGMAN by Quinn73 on AO3

Pidge felt a cold trickle of perspiration sliding down her back as she approached the entrance to the most popular nightclub in this little corner of the galaxy, a posh establishment known as The Event Horizon. She clutched her sparkly handbag a little tighter and wondered if she should go inside. She checked her watch. She was still too early. Why was she foolish enough to agree to this? Pidge sighed and began pacing back and forth in the high heels she was still very unaccustomed to wearing. Hunk had been the one who talked her into this madness. He had been very persuasive, having gone on and on about how vulnerable Lance was.

“He hasn’t dated anyone since...” Allura’s name went unspoken. “...you know.”

“I know,” she replied to Hunk. “But aren’t you normally his wingman?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m the best wingman there is.” Hunk looked incredibly pleased with himself. He winked at her. Pidge frowned, perplexed by how strange Hunk had been behaving lately. In recent weeks he had been bombarding her with the most personal and embarrassing questions when she least expected it. “But you know I have an important diplomatic mission to Cyan III, so I can’t be there to help him get back into the dating scene. Pidge, please, do this for me. I don’t want Lance to get his heart broken again—“

She exhaled. “Fine. I’ll steer him away from the crazies and the stalkers. What time do I have to be there?”

“Seven o’clock sharp. And wear something nice. You know, maybe get your hair done, put on a little makeup—not that you need it—it’s just, Lance—- uh, I ,mean, that club is really upscale, okay.”

After that conversation Pidge rummaged through her closet and found nothing suitable for the evening except for the clingy little emerald green cocktail dress she had worn only once before. The diamond earrings she had inherited from her great-grandmother would look nice with it, she thought. There was only one necklace that she owned that was the right length for the neckline of the dress though, and she wondered if it would be appropriate to wear it or not. It was a golden heart on a delicate chain that had been sent to her as a special delivery on her twenty-first birthday. There was no return address, only a typed note that read, “To the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I have ever known. I hope someday I have the courage to tell you how I really feel about you.” The message wasn’t signed, and she had no idea who sent it to her. Colleen had teased her daughter so much about her “secret admirer” that she had hidden the necklace away in her jewelry box and had never worn it.

Lance had been particularly sulky at work that April, and often seemed as grumpy as he was when his siblings ate all the garlic knots and didn’t save any for him. He was even grouchy in his classes. Pidge overheard his students gossiping about it, and thought that it was very strange because Lance was known to be the most cheerful and enthusiastic of all the flight instructors at the Garrison.

Pidge began having lunch in her laboratory, pretending that this was saving her valuable time on her latest project. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she was avoiding Lance because her feelings were hurt. After three years of long weekend video gaming sessions and endless hours at his apartment binge watching all of the movies and television programs they had missed while in space, she thought their friendship meant something to him. She couldn’t believe he had forgotten her birthday this year, and she had cried herself to sleep for three nights. Hormones, she thought. Maybe she should ask the doctor for something she could take for all of her mood swings. She thought it might have something to do with her being a late bloomer.

She checked her watch again. It was nearly seven. She looked up at the glowing sign above the famous club’s entryway, squared her shoulders, and walked towards the front door, then abruptly stopped short before entering the nightclub. There was a sign on the door in front of her that read

ONCE YOU CROSS THE EVENT HORIZON, THERE’S NO TURNING BACK.

Pidge read it, and then swallowed. She reminded herself that she was doing this for Lance because she wanted him to be happy, even if that meant he was going to find happiness with someone that wasn’t her. Her vision blurred, and she wiped the corners of her eyes with her fingers, hoping her eye makeup didn’t smear. She took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.

A young Galran woman greeted her in the front lobby. “How many are in your party?”

“Oh, uh, I’m looking for a friend. He might have arrived before me,” Pidge replied.

“You are welcome to look for him, miss. Let me know if you require a table.”

“Thanks,” Pidge responded, and she headed towards the bar just beyond a large sign that read “The Singularity.” She assumed that with a name like that it must be the singles bar. There were several sorry-looking males and only a few overly made-up females of a variety of species at the bar. All of them seemed either depressed, intoxicated, or both. She sat as far away from all of them as possible. If Lance was going to meet the woman of his dreams tonight, surely it wouldn’t be any of these pathetic creatures. What was Hunk thinking? The Polluxian bartender asked what she wanted to drink, and Pidge responded that she was waiting for a friend. She cringed inwardly as a gap-toothed Unilu male sauntered her way and sat on the barstool next to her. “Buy you a drink, sweetheart?” His breath reeked of intoxicants.

“No, thank you.” She moved away from him. He leaned closer, eyeing her in a way that made her very uncomfortable. Pidge’s mind raced. She needed an escape. “I’m meeting a friend here tonight.” She looked toward the club’s main entrance, and saw her opportunity. “Sorry.” She got up. Lance had just arrived, and she couldn’t repress her grin at the sight of him. She darted towards the front lobby, passing in front of the huge darkened room called The Black Hole, which was, by the sound of the loud music, a dance floor of some kind.

Pidge thought Lance looked quite dashing in the tailored blue suit he was wearing, but she soon realized that his expression was surlier than usual, as if he didn’t want to be there at all. Her smile melted away.

Lance didn’t see her approach. He had turned toward the young Galran hostess. “Table for two, please. I don’t know if she’s here yet though.” His stance was alert, with his fists curled at his sides. He looked as if he was ready to bolt at any moment.

“There was a pretty young woman of your species who arrived just before you did. She said she was looking for someone,” said the hostess. She saw Pidge standing a few feet behind Lance. “Here she is, sir.”

Lance took a deep breath, as if bracing himself for something very unpleasant. He slowly turned around, and Pidge watched as Lance’s expression went from a look of anxiety to one of elation. “Pidge?! What are you doing here?” He looked happier than he had been in weeks. “You look great in that dress, by the way.” His eyes lingered on the golden heart-shaped necklace at her throat, and his grin broadened even more.

“Hunk told me I had to be here, and I don’t understand what’s—”

“Hunk really is the best friend a guy could ever have, isn’t he? I owe him big time for this.”

Pidge didn’t understand what Lance was talking about. “I—“

The hostess interrupted. “Your table is ready, sir. Right this way.”

Before Pidge could even ask what was going on, Lance grabbed her by the hand and followed the hostess into a brightly lit dining room, past the larger tables for boisterous gatherings, and onward to a quieter, more dimly lit area where couples would normally sit at smaller, more intimate candlelit tables. The room was empty for the moment. Soft, beautiful music was playing in the background. Pidge was both overwhelmed and confused. She felt a momentary pang of regret as Lance let go of her hand, but she soon realized that he did this in order to pull out a chair for her. “Oh! Thank you.” She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. What was happening? She smoothed her skirt as she sat down. They should be at the singles bar. How was she supposed to help Lance get a date if...

“Hunk really had me fooled,” Lance said with a chuckle. His blue eyes sparkled with happiness.

“What exactly did he tell you?” she asked, trying to calm her nerves. She had her hands hidden in her lap, hoping Lance wouldn’t notice that they were shaking.

“Well, when Hunk said that he was gonna set me up on a blind date with a girl who would be an absolutely perfect match for me, I was really skeptical about that. At first, I refused to go because I told him my heart already belonged to someone and I wasn’t interested in meeting some other girl, but Hunk said that I had to go, and that if I didn’t go you would be really upset with me. I thought that meant that you wanted me to move on, and that hurt so much.” Pidge noticed that Lance began to tear up a little. “I thought you didn’t like me that way, especially when I saw that you didn’t ever wear the birthday present I sent you.”

Pidge gaped at him as touched her golden heart pendant with one trembling hand. “You sent this to me? I-I didn’t know!” She felt a cool tear slide down one very warm cheek. “The card wasn’t signed. I am so sorry. I love the necklace! It’s beautiful, and thank you for it.” Don’t cry, don’t cry she told herself, but it was too late.

Lance extended his hands across the table to her, and after wiping her face with a napkin, she reached out to him, allowing him to take both of her small hands into his larger ones. “Hunk had to trick me into going on a date with you,” he confessed. “I was too afraid of rejection to ask you out on a real date, even though we spend nearly every weekend hanging out together.”

Pidge bit her lip and then gave him a watery smile. “He had to trick me too. He said you were going out tonight and needed a wingman. That’s why I was waiting for you at The Singularity just now.”

“Wearing that dress and with your hair curled and—wait a minute! Are you actually wearing makeup?” Lance chuckled. “You look like a model or a movie star. Did you really think I would be looking at some other single lady at the bar when you look hotter than a supernova?”

Pidge giggled. “Well, I wanted you to see what you’re missing,” she teased. “And from now on, the only heart shaped pendant I will ever wear will be from someone that I love, not some unknown secret admirer.”

Lance beamed at her. “I hope that means you’ll wear it again.”

“Always.”

That was all the encouragement Lance needed. “When I sent you that note I was thinking of something a wise man once said: Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

“Lao Tzu,” Pidge commented, recognizing the quote. “The note you sent said that I am the strongest woman you have ever known and that someday you hoped to have the courage to tell me how you really feel about me.”

“I guess that someday is today.” He let go of her hands and slid his chair around the table to her side. “I love you, Katie Holt. I always have. I’m sorry it took so long for me to find the courage to say it out loud.” He reached out to cup her cheek, wiping away one of her happy tears with his thumb.

Courage, she thought. Just tell him. She placed both of her hands on his broad shoulders, and he dared to move even closer to her. “I love you, too.” she said softly. “All these years, it’s always been you, Lance.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned towards her. Their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. Instinctively, Pidge slid her arms around his neck, and Lance responded by pulling her closer and deepening the kiss.

“I think we should stop,” she whispered in between kisses.

“Why? I know you’re enjoying this as much as I am,” he said in an uncharacteristically deep voice that made her shiver.

Pidge knew she had to be the sensible one. “The waiter will be here soon and we haven’t even looked at our menus.”

Blushing, Lance slid his chair back to the other side of the table. “I guess I was getting a little too carried away with kissing my new girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend? You move faster than a proton in a particle accelerator.”

“Sorry. I should have been a gentleman and asked—“

“Yes, well I do expect my boyfriend to be a gentleman, especially when we’re in public.” Her eyes sparkled like the diamonds she was wearing. They were both giddy the rest of the evening, which was spent dining and dancing and talking about the bright future that was ahead of them.

It was mid morning at the embassy on Cyan III when Hunk’s deep space communicator received an electronic message from two of his fellow Paladins. When he opened the message, Hunk saw that it was a selfie taken on Lance’s phone. In the photo Lance was smiling at the camera, dressed in his finest suit, looking more cheerful than he had been in years. He had his arm around a gorgeous girl in a clingy green dress who seemed to radiate waves of happiness. It was Pidge, Hunk realized. She looked so glamorous he nearly didn’t recognize her. The message read, “I had the time of my life at The Event Horizon—dinner and dancing with the love of my life. Thanks, Hunk. You’re the best wingman ever! —Lance.”

[halfwaythereroyalwrites]

Balikbayan Box (Pietro Maximoff x Filipinx!Reader Kilig One-Shot)

Pairing: Pietro Maximoff x Filipinx!Reader

Warnings: Cursing. Cheeky flirting. Gets “suggestive” toward the end. Mostly a heartwarming story

Word count: 1,691 words

A/N: I love that writing a Filipina!Reader story allowed me to find more Filipinxs on this platform! Please check out my other stories on my masterlist, and let me know what you think! 

Requested by: @princeabomination​

Kilig is a Tagalog word to describe the feeling of excitement and exhilaration and possibly embarrassment from anything remotely romantic.

Masterlist

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     Pietro wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he came home, but he surely didn’t expect for the aggressive squeaky sound of packing tape to greet him instead of your usual chirpy, “Hey babe!” He furrowed his brows at your current task. You were unfolding and taping up two large boxes half your body size. The empty boxes had the name of a Philippine shipping company printed on the side in sizeable bold letters, followed by an addressing line. Scattered all around the living room were numerous, humongous piles of canned goods, coffee creamers, gently used clothes, candy, toiletries, shoes, school supplies, and what Pietro was pretty sure was his partner’s sanity. Your hair was in disarray, your finger subconsciously on your lips — nibbling at your nails — and your face was contorted in worry when scanning the various labeled piles.

     Pietro’s voice broke your train of thought. “Darling, are you ok? What is all this?” You shook your head in response.

     “I’m sending some stuff home to my family, but I don’t know how this is all going to fit! I knew I should have bought that third box. I’m pretty sure I forgot Tita Maria’s favorite lotion. I don’t think I have enough chocolates for all my pamangkin. Oh shit!” You were glancing around the piles when a logo caught your frenzied attention. You grabbed a polo shirt from a neat, folded pile of clothes. “I think I got the wrong brand of shirts for Tito Eddie! He likes Calvin Klein! Not Ralph Lauren! Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I said I would ship this out by tomorrow, but I got everything wrong, and I…”

     “Darling,” Pietro sped over in a blur and gently held your face in between his hands, directing your fraught gaze onto his face. “Breathe.” You tried to take a deep breath, but the breath stuck in your throat, not being able to move past the panicked constriction of your chest. Pietro quickly noticed your struggle, took your hand, and placed it in the middle of his chest. He flattened your palm over his heart and kept your hand pressed there with his own. “Breathe with me, my love. In.” You slowly inhaled in sync with the rise of his chest. “Out.” You let out your breath through pursed lips, following the fall of his chest. “Again.” You both repeated this action until your body visibly relaxed. You stepped closer to Pietro, leaning your forehead against his chest.

     “Pietro, I’m so stupid. How am I gonna get this done on time?” you whispered against his chest.

     “I could always help you, my love,” he took your face in between his hands and focused your eyes on his. “ Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it done faster than you can blink. I can even run it over to your family.” His heavy, comforting accent enveloped your worries and made you momentarily forget your near-breakdown earlier. The scent of his cologne coupled with the feel of his calloused fingers running up and down your arm anchored you down to reality. You sighed, shook your head, and muttered.

     “I want to do this myself. These are my first balikbayan boxes that I am sending home to my family, and I want it to be special.”

     “What are these for anyway?” Pietro repeated his earlier question. You broke out of his embrace and started surveying the piles you have neatly laid out all around the living room.

     “When a family member lives overseas, they always send presents, or pasalubong, to their family back home,” you explained. You picked up a couple of canned goods and started arranging them into the bottom of one box. “A balikbayan box shows your family how much you love them. There’s always something for everyone in here, and they take months to ship.” You picked up a pile of children’s clothes and started folding them into the box. You paused, holding up a brightly colored shirt with a popular cartoon character drawn on it. “Opening up balikbayan boxes was a huge family event for me. Everyone gathers in the living room, and they would unpack the box little by little, handing out each person’s individual gift. The boxes always had my favorite chocolates and clothes that no other kids in our barangay could find at the malls. Wearing the clothes and eating the treats that came from abroad was almost like…a message to others…that there is someone outside of the country who loves you so much that they remembered to send you presents.”

    Tears were welling up in your eyes as you reminisced. You could picture those mornings vividly. Your mother would wake you up in excitement, saying how the balikbayan box had finally arrived. You would run into the living room to find your father or one of your uncles tearing the layered. brown packing tape open with a knife. Your address would be neatly written on one side while the sender’s address would be written on the other. You imagined the foreign country this box hailed from to be overflowing with the presents it contained. As soon as the box was torn open, you would peer inside and look for your name to be written on one of the tightly packed items. You wanted to dig into the chocolates immediately, but your parents would make you try on the shoes and clothes addressed to you before eating your treats.

     “My love, are you ok?” Pietro had encircled his arms around you from behind, pressing his body against yours. You wiped the tear running down your cheek away and nodded your head. You allowed your body to melt into Pietro’s. The warmth of his body alleviating the tightness you unconsciously held in between your shoulders. Pietro began peppering the side of your face with small kisses, pointedly kissing the trail your tear left behind. He gripped your hips and spun you around to face him. He laid his forehead against yours, noses touching. His hands rested on the sides of your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks. His lips ghosted over yours as he whispered, “You let me know if you need anything, my love. Say the word, and I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he kept his forehead against yours.

     “What did I do to deserve you, Pietro?” you wondered aloud. Pietro took both of your hands to his lips and placed a kiss on each one before holding your hands against his chest.

     “You have my heart, darling.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before leaning into your ear. His voice are deeper as he whispered the next words. “You know what else you have?”

     “No, what?” you answered, confused. He softly took a hold of your wrist and led it down toward the direction of his crotch. Before your hand even touched his groin, you snatched your hand out of his wrist and smacked his chest.

     “You idiot!” you laughed in disbelief.

     “There’s that beautiful smile! I was only joking, my love” Pietro chuckled at your incredulous reaction. “…unless?” he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

     “No! Get out of here! I need to finish this.” you waved him away but not before Pietro sneaked one last kiss on your lips and a cheeky slap on your ass. He walked over to the bedroom, and you got to work on packing up the boxes. The only indication time was passing was the changing colors against the walls, courtesy of the light shining through the windows. When you first began, the light filtering through the windows and hitting your walls had been a bright white, nearly blinding in its luminance. As the day went on, the light became less blinding and more vibrant — shifting back and forth from hues of golden yellow and orange for a few hours before turning into the softer white of moonlight coupled with the orange tint of the streetlight flickering outside. The sound of crickets could be heard from the window by the time you finished packing. You dragged the boxes over to one corner of the living room before plopping down onto the couch, celebrating your victory.

     You had your eyes closed when you heard the bedroom door creak open to reveal a shirtless Pietro in gray sweatpants. His chiseled figure made its way onto the couch and sat next to you. He turned his head to glance at you and asked “So is everything done?”

     “Yup.” you popped your p at the end, continuing to keep your eyes closed, oblivious to the Adonis of a man seated next to you.

     “Good. You need rest, darling. Come to bed.” Pietro squeezed your thigh, the movement prompting you to open your eyes and gaze sideways at his shirtless body casually laid back against the couch.

     “Thank you for everything today, babe. I really appreciate you knowing how much this meant to me.”

     “Of course, my love.” his husky voice had dropped down an octave, making his accent thicker and his voice deeper. He held your cheek in one hand, staring into your eyes as his thumb drew back and forth against your cheek. He rose from the couch to stand in front of your seated figure, holding out a hand for you to take. “Let’s go to bed.”

     You scooted your body forward and peered up at him through your eyelashes. Your hands traveled up and down his thighs, slowly and suggestively. “I wanted to thank you…properly.”

     “…but you already did.”

     You sighed at his obliviousness. Without saying a word and keeping your gaze locked on his confused eyes, you got down on your knees in front of him while slowly undoing the knotted drawstrings on his sweatpants. You lightly traced the V that led down to his groin and placed a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his lower stomach. You grabbed his hand and placed it in your hair and proceeded to pull down his sweatpants and underwear. Pietro’s eyes, meanwhile, went from confused to wide-eyed realization.

     “oh…OH!”

______________________________________

A/N: Feel free to message me if you have any comments, request, or would like to be added to my taglist!

taglist: @multifandomlife22​ @thottiewinemom​ @princeabomination​

If you want more Filipina!Reader fics: @self-proclaimed-chaotic-good​ and @propertyofpoeandbucky​ have some great ones and inspired me to write these. Thank you so much y’all! I didn’t even realize I never saw myself in fics until I read yours, and it meant so much to me

[lolas-writings]

Can you give us a preview of the second part to your DabiHawks trilogy???

Sure!! I’ll give you a little bit of the opening scene, you know, as a treat. ;)

[Read Part 1 Here]

“In recent news, Todoroki Enji, Japan’s former number one hero, Endeavor, is due for his court hearing in the next few days. Though it’s already been four months since the League of Villains was captured and Todoroki’s dark past was revealed to the public, citizens are still heavily divided about Todoroki’s case. Although many believe that he should receive the proper punishment for the charges of both child and spouse abuse along with countless claims of misconduct and neglect from citizens he rescued in past villain attacks, the skepticism derives from the nature of which these accusations arose.

“Just two days after the league was apprehended, pro heroes Hawks, Miruko, and Eraserhead released the information regarding Todoroki’s past, but the most startling piece of information that was released deals not with the youngest Todoroki sibling -- being groomed from a young age to carry on the Todoroki name -- but with the eldest Todoroki sibling.

“After being pronounced dead nearly seven years ago, it is now confirmed that Todoroki Touya is not only alive, but the former league member, Dabi. While that in and of itself is a shocking reveal, the public has latched not onto Touya’s existence, but of his connection to pro hero Hawks. It was revealed shortly after the league was captured that Hawks had worked as an undercover spy for the commission, but that begs the question: was this planned from the beginning?

“After revealing his infiltration mission, many speculate that Dabi and Hawks worked together to bring down former pro hero Endeavor. One would benefit from the event at having his abuser locked away in prison while the other would rise the ranks and become the new number one hero. Due to this popular theory, Hawks’ approval rating has taken a sudden nose dive with the speculation that he ended up siding with the villains in order to tear down the current hero society, not only for the league’s benefit but for his own gain. There have been no comments as of now-”

“Turn that shit off already.” Dabi nearly growls to the woman sitting across from him, his right hand clutching his left bicep in a death grip. The faint pinprick sensation of his nails digging into the flesh helped ground him, gave him something to focus on since he could no longer feel a connection to his quirk. Fucking suppresor cuffs. It also helped keep him from scratching his skin raw in that area, if only to satiate the constant itching. Nothing good came out of this dumb ass program so far and he was seriously losing his mind.

Ever since he was chosen for forced into this villain rehabilitation program they’ve been slowly revoking his past persona, chipping away at whatever was left of Dabi in order to force him back into his first life. Into being Todoroki fucking Touya again.

The first to go was his quirk. Not permanently, but he was required to wear quirk suppressing handcuffs for at least a year before moving on to the next phase -- he was reminded daily that if he acted out, more time would be added, and he wasn’t sure he could survive that.

The next to go were his scars. Not at all once, though. It had something to do with having to be eased out of one life and gently nudged into another to reduce the chance of psychosis or any heavy dissociation episodes. So they began with the most hidden scars, the ones that were always covered and locked away by simple clothing. Most of his chest scars were gone by now, and just the previous day they healed his entire left arm of the burns that birthed Dabi. They itched like hell now, the new skin irritating at best and down right unbearable at worst, but he did his best to refrain from scratching. He wasn’t too fond of the thought of picking up Shigaraki’s habit.

And since the beginning, they had been working on his name.

“We’ve talked about this, Touya.” A god forsaken name that Dabi never wanted to hear again. A name that made him clench his jaw and sink his nails deeper into the healing skin of his arms. They had been trying to reattach him to his old name, but he held such deep resentment for it and it’s origin that even four months later it still grated on his nerves in the worst possible ways. But after four months, he had learned that no matter how much he fought it, the bastards that ran this program didn’t care if he wanted to sever all ties to his past life, he was going to be reacquainted with it whether he liked it or not. So he sucked it up, clenched his jaw so tightly his gums were sore, and swallowed the words of disdain that coated his tongue.

[rocket-remmy]

And Then You Break|| Skylar And Remmy

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @theskyeandsea and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: Remmy’s decided this will be their last match at the ring. Skylar didn’t know what she was getting into when she followed. Someone else has other plans. CONTENT: Gore, Body Mutilation, Limb Loss, Non-Con (Forced Fighting)

How she’d wound up walking down the street from some shady looking MMA club, Skylar wasn’t quite sure. She’d decided to drive over to Remmy’s to surprise them-- as a thank you for her birthday gift, she thought she might come by with a couple of her favorite movies and see if they wanted to have a movie night. Remmy had been through… so much lately. After the conversation with Alain, she wanted them to know that they weren’t a monster, not to her. Maybe they weren’t okay with what they were and maybe they’d never be okay with it. But, they weren’t a monster. But, when she’d arrived, she’d seen them hurrying out the backdoor of the large, ominous house they called home. And so… she’d followed them here. To some sketchy MMA club. Watching Remmy enter, she tilted her head. She knew that they had been in the military, so this sort of thing kind of made sense..? But, why were they here so late at night? As she followed after them, Skylar was stopped at the door, a gruff woman with pink hair demanding an entry fee that she quickly paid. As she entered, Skylar was startled to see all kinds of people milling around. What was this place?

Tonight, they’d decided, was going to be their last match. Remmy had already emptied their locker into a backpack they had brought with them, they were just waiting, now, for their match. Jax had come by when they were packing and reminded them that tonight was a big night. They’d found a very special opponent for Remmy, and it was going to be a big collection night. Friday nights were the main events, after all, and Remmy was one of the most popular fighters. Jax liked to remind them of that, and Remmy hadn’t missed his narrowed expression when he saw the backpack. They had quickly stuffed it back in their locker, saying it was just for a change of clothes. He could sometimes be a rather intimidating man, and his sharp eyes always felt as if they were looking straight through Remmy. They’d just...let him know after the match, to not sign them up for anymore. That would be fine. Finally, late into the night, the announcer called out their match. “And now, for the match you’ve all been waiting for! The main even of the night, the Unmoveable object versus the Unbreakable object!” Remmy had stood, pulled up their hood, closing their eyes. Listening to the roar of the crowd. ”Zombieeeeeee versuuuuus Gargoylllllllle!” Made their way out towards the arena, slowly, stepping up to the entrance. “The Undead Underdog, everybody! Death’s fist itself!” Stepped into the ring, pulling their hood down, facing the crowd. On the other end of the arena was the monster. Caged. But unlike every other monster, it did not act like it. Sharp eyes stared directly out from the cage and landed on Remmy. Remmy swallowed, took up position, and waited for the bell.

The longer Skylar stayed here, the more it dawned on her that the people here weren’t… weren’t entirely people. At least, they weren’t human people. Eyes widening as she saw a man yawn, a mouthful of fangs on full display, she did her best to slip through the crowd without jostling anyone. She didn’t want to be here-- why was Remmy here? And why was everyone else here too? As she moved through the crowd, she found herself being pushed towards the stadium, to the seats that lined a chain link fence that surrounded a large pit in the ground. A cage. A fighting cage, she realized. Without really wanting to, she found herself pushed towards a seat and did her best to make herself as small as she could amongst the loud, angry people. There was so much noise that she couldn’t really make out the words of the announcer-- it was overloading her hearing aids. There was just too much going on. But, her blood ran cold as she watched the first fighter step out of the ring, watched them lower their hood. It was Remmy.

The cage door dropped and Remmy braced themself-- but the impact never came. Instead, the thing inside moved slowly, stiffly, solid stone shifting around, cracking with its enormous effort to move, as the creature crawled from its confinement. Feet crushing just the very ground it walked on, and Remmy was very suddenly aware of why it had not fought and cried while in its cage. Eyes rotated in the head to look at Remmy as it moved with an almost mechanical motion, turning to face them, crouched on all fours. Remmy held their position, fists up. They’d brought one extra weapon with them into the fight this time, a pair of brass knuckles borrowed from Nell, and slowly, they reached down into the pocket, pulling them out. They were gonna need them. Finally, the creature stopped pacing. It was only a few feet from Remmy, still low to the ground, but as its eyes followed the movements of their fists, it began to rise, stone cracking as it did, dust crumbling from its skin only to reveal more solid stone beneath it. And when it finally reached its peak, a good two feet above Remmy’s head, it spread giant, stone wings with a thunderous crack, opened its jaw, and howled at Remmy with a booming snarl, the force of it making them step back, hands over their ears.

Horrorstruck, Skylar wanted to look away as the massive hulking monster lumbered out into the ring. She wanted to leave this place-- this wasn’t a good place. She could see dried splatters of blood on the ground, far too much blood for any one creature to survive. She could see the anger and adrenaline and excitement in the eyes of the people around her. She could see the way bookies exchanged money for little slips of paper, putting down bets. This was a horrible, awful place. And Remmy was at the center of it all. Why? Why were they here? As the creature in the ring let out a roar, Skylar’s hands went to her hearing aids, the sound overloading her for a moment. Dropping her head between her knees, she tried to focus on her breathing, on anything other than the fact that her friends, her best friend, was in there. With that monster. And they were going, going to fight. After a moment, she felt someone grab her shoulder and she looked at them-- she couldn’t tell what they were saying, but she could read their lips. Watch. Don’t miss. Best fighters. What? No, no, no. None of this made sense.

The creature-- a gargoyle, Jax had said-- wasn’t fast. It raised a claw, click by click, before swiping down at Remmy. They were able to dodge that one, but quickly realized that fighting something this large was going to be more difficult than just doding, as a wing pressed forward and knocked them from their spot. They landed hard on their back, a welt in their chest. One swipe of the wing would have killed anyman, broken ribs resetting themselves as Remmy rolled out of the way of a slow moving foot, stomped into the ground where they’d just been. Rubble buckled underneath the claw as it dug in. The ground shook under its weight and Remmy felt like someone had stolen all the life from their limbs for a moment. They only watched in horror, just barely moving out of the way in time as the foot swung forward, aiming for them. Wind rushed over their head as they stayed ducked to the ground, hands over their head, protecting their neck. In the next moment, a claw was wrapping around them, lifting them from the ground, stone nails digging into their flesh to keep a grip. Remmy cried out, scrapping for a hold on something, finding no hold to grab. They punched, hard with the knuckles and watched stone chip from the monster’s hand, but it did not stop, it did not cry out. In the next moment, Remmy was another crater in the ground, and the crowd was cheering louder than ever.

Though Remmy was faster, the monster they were up against was powerful. Skylar flinched as she watched the beast’s wings slam against her friend, sending them sprawling against the ground. She watched as they rolled out of the way, watched as the foot came crashing down. The giant impression in the ground was enough to have her reaching up, cupping her mouth in horror to prevent herself from screaming. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. All around her, there were people laughing, cheering, booing, screaming for blood and gore and death. The crowd wanted to see them die. Everyone here, they weren’t watching to see a bloodsport. They were looking for a fight to the death. As the creature’s lumbering hand circled her friend, Skylar couldn’t help the panicked shout that came from her. “Remmy! Remmy, no! You need-- you’ve got to get out of there!” She yelled. But, it was no use. Blue eyes watched, unable to look away, as Remmy was smashed into the ground.

A ringing sound was the first thing Remmy registered. And then the roar of the crowd. And then the creaking of stone joints. They looked up just in time to watch a fist come straight down into them, pounding them farther into the ground. Could feel dirt and stone and cement digging into their back. Could feel their lungs collapsing with every hit. It swatted them again. And again, and again, until Remmy stopped moving, eye rolled back in their head, a nasty, black ooze pooling on their chest. They couldn’t see anything, black dots eating away what vision wasn’t buried by the ruble. But they could still hear the cheering. I wanna stop, they tried to say, but choked. Let me out. They wanted to cry, but couldn’t. After a moment, all their joints snapped back into place and their broken neck righted itself and vision crashed back into their head. Remmy shoved themself from the hole in the ground and scrambled up, as far away from the creature as they could before it realized they were still alive. They stumbled over to the cage door, barely making it there before their still injured body gave out, collapsing in front of it. “Jax,” they called out to the man standing there, “please. I need to-- I want qui--” Their stomach heaved, emptying its contents. “Ah, ah, ah,” Jax said through the gate, bending down low so he could loom over Remmy, but stay close, “no quitting, remember? You promised.”

Remmy’s body shuddered at the words, at the smell of bile, the smell of rotten blood, the smell of stone. Shit. Jax stepped back just as a claw swiped through the space Remmy had just been. Now they were flying towards the other end of the arena, colliding with the wall, and sliding down in a slump. 

It just kept getting worse and worse. Every time the monster reared back and slammed their fists into Remmy, with every hit, Skylar watched as a dark spot of black began to grow and soak through the front of their shirt. Tears filled her eyes as she forced herself to watch. She didn’t want to see this, but she had to. If they-- if they-- no, they weren’t going to die. They couldn’t die. She watched as Remmy managed to stumble their way to the edge of the ring, their hands gripping onto the fence as they talked to a shadowy figure she couldn’t quite see, someone tucked back out of sight. She watched as they doubled over and retched. She watched as the monster drew back it’s hand and smashed into Remmy once more, flinging them against the wall where they collapsed in a heap. “Let them out! Let them out! They’re done! They’re done, please! Just let them go!” Skylar cried out. The person to her left stared at her for a moment, a sneer growing on their face. Reading their lips, she was able to piece together, No… the gargoyle… alive…. No one.

Remmy must’ve been hearing things, because they swore they heard Skylar, as they pulled themself back up to their feet, braced against the wall. The gargoyle hadn’t moved from its spot yet and Remmy took the moment of reprieve. Tears were welling in their eyes. This was it, wasn’t it? It was kinda funny, they thought, as they tried their best to focus on the creature now pacing, like a predator just waiting for its prey to die so it could dig in-- that not a few days earlier Remmy had been arguing to Morgan about this place. That how, deep down, they’d known she was right. And now, this creature was proving her right. They were dying and the crowd was cheering. And Jax, his eyes sharp, wouldn’t let them quit. Remmy sniffled a little, sank to a sit on the ground. The crowd booed. Get up and fight! They shouted. Fight you monster! With a small breath of clarity, Remmy decided they were right. If they were going to die, they wanted to at least go out swinging. Stiffly, they stood. Their body was almost all healed now, and they honed in the hunger that was creeping into their bones. To the hunger that could make them stronger. And when it was enough, they let go.

Black, veiny eyes snapped open with a snarl. The gargoyle lowered itself to all fours and roared again. Remmy roared back, almost as loud, and launched themself at the monster, hands bared. 

Hands pressed against her mouth, Skylar was powerless to do anything other than watch. Remmy was going to die. They were going to die, they were going to be battered and broken and destroyed under the weight of the massive stone monster that loomed in the ring against them. They were going to die and she would just be here, in the stands, watching. But, as she watched, she could see the way their bones were shifting back into place, the way they were able to rise to their feet. And then their eyes opened-- Skylar recoiled in her seat, flinching at the sight of the inky black eyes that had replaced the calm light eyes that she knew. All she could do was watch as they threw themself at the creature, looking just as monstrous. 

Flesh met stone in a flurry. Stone claws won most of the battles, but the iron knuckles on Remmy’s fist pounded hard against the gargoyle’s arm. Unrelenting, even as the monster tore a chunk out of Remmy’s side in an attempt to claw them away, to deter. They weren’t. Not until their fist broke straight through the monster’s stone arm and it fell to the ground with a loud bang, crumbling to pieces. The creature yowled, thrust its wings against Remmy, simultaneously propelling itself away from them while knocking them back. Remmy landed hard, already scrambling back to their feet, twisted and broken, arms grappling for the monster at the other end of the ring. Piercing stone jewels met their ravenous eyes, as the creature leapt up. It lingered in the air for a moment, as if defying gravity, with its enormous weight, before letting reality pull it back down to earth. Back down on top of Remmy. A sickening crunch rang through the arena. Remmy stopped crying out, silence by the sound of their own body break. But the creature wasn’t finished. With its jaws, it bit into their arm, and tore. Tossed the limb away, not even caring to consume it. Destroying just for the sake of destroying. Then its beak sunk itself into Remmy’s chest, and they finally cried out again. A ravenous gurgle, sputtering, clawing at the things head with their one arm left. The iron knuckles crumpled to pieces on the ground against the granite of the monster’s head. With each tear, Remmy grew weaker. Until finally, their eyes were their own again. 

Remmy wailed in pain. “Stop it!” they cried out, pushing against the creature uselessly. “Stop it, please!” They shouted. “I don’t wanna die! Jax, please!” Their wails silencing some of the crowd. Sputtered as black, rotted blood spilled from their chest, their mouth. “P-please! Help me!” they cried out, too weak to fight back anymore. The gargoyle seized it opportunity, beak dug into their stomach, claw digging into their waist-- and pulled. With all its might.

And with a horrible ripping noise, Remmy came apart.

It was like watching a head on collision happening in slow motion, but worse. Worse, because Skylar knew Remmy, cared about Remmy, wanted nothing but the best for Remmy. And her she was. Forced to do nothing but watch as they launched themself at the beast that shared the ring with them. For a moment, for a brutal, awful moment, it almost seemed as though they had a chance as they tore the arm from the creature’s body. Ripped it away, sending rocks and debris flying across the ground. But, as the monster roared in anger and lashed out in with a vengeance, Skylar knew that her worst fears were coming to life before her very eyes. “No! No, call it off! Please, call it off!” She cried bolting from her seat. She didn’t care about the people who cursed and swore, who shoved her away and yelled at her. She pushed through the crowd until she was at the edge of the ring, her hands grasping the chain link fence. 

And she watched, wide-eyed, as the creature pulled the mangled, still screaming body of her best friend in two.

Remmy was sure that death was the next thing coming. Their vision was faltering in the blistering pain that was running through their body. They couldn’t feel their legs anymore, torn from their torso like paper bags torn apart by children’s fingers. They knew what had happened even without looking, but the pain was too great, and the reality of what was about to happen, as the gargoyle came back up, rotten blood smeared across its face, and bent down, its beak around Remmy’s neck, truly set in. Remmy sobbed. They hadn’t been able to say good-bye to anyone. Not Blanche, not Skylar, not Morgan. Not Mina or Nell or Luce or Nora. Or Moose. Who would take care of Moose? He was probably in good hands with Blanche. But what about Skylar? Who would be around to tell her she was worth it, that she was good and whole and deserved to be happy? Or Morgan. Who would help her fight now? Who would struggle through each day with her, knowing how she felt without even talking? Remmy blinked and a figure at the fence line came into focus. It was Skylar. Were they seeing things now? They must have been. In their last moments, their brain must have wanted to show them a friend. Just like last time they’d died. But this time, there’d be no waking up.

Remmy felt the pressure of the beak begin to close around their neck. They’d stopped fighting already, too tired, too pained to try anymore. They closed their eyes, and waited.

A loud bang rang out through the Ring and the entire crowd went silent this time. Jax stood at the door, pushed open, a shotgun in his hands, barrel still smoking. The gargoyle, now missing the chunk of its chest where a heart would be, teetered for a moment, before it went crashing down next to Remmy, shattering. 

For a moment, as Skylar stared at her friend’s limp form, their legs ripped off and strewn across the ring, their upper body a mangled mess of black ooze and flesh-- for a moment, she caught their gaze. They saw her. They knew she was there. In that moment, Skylar knew that she had to do something. Remmy was dying, they were bleeding out and that monster was crushing them, ripping them apart. She couldn’t just watch anymore. Turning around, she sprinted through the crowd, trying to find some way into the caged arena. She needed to be there, needed to get them out. She wasn’t sure if that was something she could do, or if it was even possible at all. But, she had to try. As she pushed her way through the eager crowd, Skylar spotted a man slip through a gate into the ring. She sprinted towards him, legs pumping as fast as she could to get there. Then, a concussive bang of sound exploded in her ears and she clasped her hands over her hearing aids. Gritting her teeth together, Skylar pushed through the ringing in her ears and ran towards the now open gate. She could see them-- she could see them lying in the dirt. Eyes staring up at the monster that was now falling flat beside them. 

Without a second thought, Skylar ran into the ring, threw herself down beside them. “Remmy! Please, please, don’t go. Don’t do this.” She sobbed as she pressed her hand against their gore and dirt streaked face. “Don’t die, please, you can’t die. You can’t!” Tears streaked down her face, dripping and mingling with the thick puddle of black ooze that surrounded their body.

The world faded in and out. Remmy was sure this was what death felt like, but as their mind searched, they couldn’t find the old memories of it. As they lay there, wondering if it was truly possible for a zombie to bleed out, if their death was inevitable without help, without needing their head removed. They wondered what it would feel like, to wilt away like that. Would it be like dying from a bullet? Or would it be peaceful, like falling asleep? Why had Jax saved them? What was Skylar doing here? Wait-- “Sky...lar?” they managed to croak out. Was their mind deceiving them? Was this a hallucination? It had to be. There was no way Skylar was actually here with them. It couldn’t be true. But even through the pain, they could feel her warm hands, pressed against their face. They could see her tears, clouding her big, blue eyes. “No…” they muttered, distress apparent in their voice, “why...why are...you...here...Skye...no…” sputtering, coughing up some more black ooze. The pain that thrummed through their body was like none they’d ever felt before. In the distance, someone was heading towards them. “R-run…” they managed to sputter out, “p-p-please...you can’t...he can’t...run, you have to...run…I’ll be...I’ll be okay...”

“I’m here,” Skylar sobbed as she clutched their face in her hands. There was so much tarry black ooze, so much ruined flesh, so much gore, smeared across them. She forced herself not to look down at the place where their legs had been, at the mass of torn entrails and tendons below their chest. She forced herself to focus on their light eyes, the way that they stared at her, recognizing her for a brief moment. “Don’t die, please, don’t die.” She whimpered, her breath coming in shallow waves. She watched as they tried to speak, more of that dark liquid spilling from their mouth. Swallowing thickly, she shook her head. “You can’t die. You can’t, you’re going to be okay. Everything will be okay, we’ll make it okay. Remmy, Remmy--” Before she could say anything else, she felt rough hands grabbing her by the shoulders and she was tossed aside. Sliding across the ground, her back slammed against the edge of the ring and she stared in dazed horror as a figured stepped forward and leaned over Remmy. Their words echoed in the back of her mind. Run.

Eyes flooded with tears, her hands soaked with inky blackness, Skylar scrambled to her feet and ran.

The last thing Remmy saw of Skylar was her back. Tearing through the door and out of the ring. Good. She would be safe, then. She would be okay. Tears spilled down Remmy’s face, mixing with dirt and blood and ooze, whatever dead, rotten liquid filled their veins. They could already feel their arm growing back, bones snapped, muscle and sinew clawing its way up the solid carbon. That was good. That had to be good. 

Someone had grabbed their one free hand and was dragging them back across the arena, towards the corridor that led to the back. Blackish blood and viscera smeared across the floor as they did. Remmy’s head lolled to the side, staring at the spot where Skylar had been. At least she was safe, now. Whatever happened next, they’d be okay knowing that, right? Would their legs come back? Did it matter? They’d never been so torn apart. The pieces of the gargoyle lay shattered around where they’d been. They passed its arm, the passed Remmy’s arm, they made it to the corridor and darkness began to swallow them up. Finally, Remmy found the energy to look up at Jax. “Where are you….t-taking me?”

He didn’t answer.

[chaoticneutralwriter]

17; #1013Gift

In which it’s a very special someone’s birthday and you don’t think you had the words to describe how much you love him

Idol!Jimin x Staff!Fan!Reader

word count: 5.2k

genre: fluff, romance, fluff, comedy, fluff, oneshot, established relationship

A/N: It’s a best boi’s birthday and I gotta show some love because he makes me feel soft in my frozen heart :(( the world is whipped for Jimin. Happy birthday to the sweetest, talented, most handsome, humble, caring fairy/angel in the world. Thank you for being our singer and I only wish all the happiness and health to you forever. Now let me kiss your cheekies.

“Y/N-ssi! Please get the candles!”

“Yes!” You answer back, scurrying to grab the pack on the table as well as the additional matches that came with the order. You run into the artist room wherein you find most of the staff members setting up the rich chocolate cake on the coffee table, pinning the little custom toppers that had cute and silly pictures Jimin had took along with a big ‘Happy Birthday’ edible plaque in the middle. You hand off the candles, each of which are shaped into the numbers two and four before turning to busy yourself with setting up other things.

The boys will be coming off stage soon from their encore and after giving back their mics, they would gather in this room to cool off, take post-concert pictures for Twitter and change to head back to their hotel for the night. At least, that’s what they would usually do but today there is an additional event on the list.

Today is Jimin’s 24th birthday.

Because of the special occasion, it seems like everyone and everything is supercharged with extra energy and excitement, including yourself. The smile had yet to leave your face ever since the beginning of the day in spite of already wishing Jimin a happy birthday through Kakao (right at midnight!) and in person albeit briefly before he was swept away for rehearsals and of course the concert. And boy what a concert that was. The tension was always high for a BTS show but this time around, you felt like it was even higher which should be impossible but you shouldn't be surprised, it’s the boys and proving people wrong is kind of their specialty now. Of course the fans didn’t disappoint either, matching the boys' energy level right up until the end. You can still hear the chorus of them singing happy birthday to Jimin echoing through the stadium and the scale of it had you, for lack of better words, really shook.

It made you think how it must feel if you were on the receiving end of all that love and support.

So by the time the concert is drawing to a close, you had worked up the feeling of longing in your chest to really sit down and spend time with Jimin properly. Your hand unconsciously goes into the pocket of your official tour pullover, fiddling with the small box hidden inside. The morning had been so hectic that you didn’t have the time to give Jimin your gift and you were hoping now that the show is done, you’ll be able to have a better chance. But evidently, the birthday boy was quite popular right now.

“Oh, they’re coming!” Someone announces and with those words, a flurry of things are set into motion. The candles get lit, someone grabs the camcorder and stays by the doorway on standby, and then suddenly your vision is obscured by the large bouquet of flowers shoved into your arms. You splutter, taken off guard for a second before you too get into your position just as the lights are shut off, leaving only the small glow of the candles to burn brightly.

There’s a moment of silence, and then a commotion of noises growing louder until it finally reaches the room. When the door clicks open…

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Park Jimin! Happy birthday to you!”

It was a mess of voices, all singing together in various tones but the volume rising above everyone’s was probably a mixture of Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook (off-key but still harmonious in some bizarre way that you can’t help but pause in your own singing to wheeze). Jimin’s got a big smile on his face as he approaches the awaiting cake, eyes creasing until they practically disappear as he presses his hands together in a brief moment of making a wish before blowing out the candles —

With his nose.

You really love this man.

You’re actually thankful now that you have the large bouquet in your arms because now you can hide your face that is bursting with muffled laughter. The round of applause also helped too.

“Thank you everyone, all the staff, the members, the fans who organized so many amazing events for my birthday. I’m so thankful to have you all here to celebrate this special day with me.” Jimin says, a hand placed over his heart like he’s about to burst from all the feelings inside of him. “Please continue to take care of me!” He finishes with a deep bow and everyone cheers.

You were mid-clapping when you feel someone gently nudge you on your shoulder. Glancing back, you meet the eyes of one of the staff members who gestures with her chin to the flowers still in your arms. Oh!

Your face grows hot as you weave your way through the bodies of people to get to the centre where Jimin is. His back was towards you as he accepts a gift bag from Hoseok so you tentatively try to get his attention. Luckily for you, you can always count on one of the members to help you out.

“Hyung, Y/N-noona is behind you.” Jungkook calls from his seat on the black couch, already fork deep in the cake.

At that, Jimin whips around, stepping back slightly as he too gets taken aback at how large the bouquet is in your arms. Nevertheless, he beams at you.

“Noona what’s happening here?” He giggles, manoeuvring the gift bag so it slid lower onto his forearm, freeing his hands.

“These are from your dad.” You supply, lifting up the assortment of flowers and nearly breaking your wrist at how heavy they were.

“Aish, I swear he gets bigger ones each year.” You hear him jokingly say. You smile, about to tell him that it’s only because he really loves his precious son but your thoughts are short-circuited when you feel his hand wrap around your wrists, tugging you forward until you were almost to his chest, the bouquet being the only thing standing in between you. You peer up with wide eyes and though you’re barely able to see above the colourful flora, you still make out the sly grin pulling back Jimin’s full lips. “But he’s managed to find such a pretty flower that I’m willing to let it slide.”

Off to the side, you hear coughing, loud and forced and your blush deepens as you try to shrink yourself to hide behind the bouquet, even as your heart is doing backflips in your sternum.

“Yah, I could’ve died eating this cake and then what would we have done?” Seokjin complains though he’s only half serious.

“Oh hyung, don’t be dramatic.” Jimin rebuttals, taking the flowers off of your hands, but still keeping a hold on you as he shuffles to one of the couches. “And that’s my cake you’re eating! I still haven’t had a bite of it yet!” You have no choice but to follow, perching yourself on the armrest of the couch even when Jimin tries to sneakily tug you onto his lap. Once he’s settled, he takes the time to open the little card attached to the pick in the bouquet, about to read it when he realizes that it was all in English.

“Noona can you tell me what this says? I can only make out a few words.” He hands the card to you and you hesitate for a moment, not really sure if you should intrude on such a private thing but with one quick glance around the room, Namjoon's nowhere to be found. Your eyes catch Jimin's though and he's smiling up at you and it's only then that you feel like you're given the okay to read it.

Taking the card from his grasp you scan over the words and can't help the smile that blooms on your lips as you translate, “To my precious son, I wish you a happy birthday where you may always be happy and healthy. Take care of yourself, I love you very much, from your father.”

You watch fondly as his face changes in the subtlest of ways, growing softer as he takes in the words written before his lips break into another beautiful smile again once he’s finished.

“Wow, my dad really is such a romantic.” Jimin laughs breathily.

“Yeah, you would have to get that side of you from somewhere Jimin-ie.” Namjoon comments, now fully changed into his own clothes. When Jimin opens his mouth to protest, Taehyung takes the time to swoop in and deliver a forkful of cake into his mouth, effectively stopping him. You hold back a giggle as he pouts but chews anyways. The rest of the guys wander off one by one to go change and gather their things to set off back to the hotel. Jimin continues to lounge on the couch, slowly chipping away at his cake and you’re content to watch him.

“Noona, you should try this cake, it’s really good.” He says, trying to scoop up a piece to offer to you.

You shake your head. “No it’s okay, it’s your cake after all. You have your fill.”

“But I want to feed you~”

You splutter, feeling warm again and the whiney way in which he says it makes it almost impossible to resist. You suppose you can take a bite…but you really should be saving your appetite for dinner tonight… Oh heck this is Jimin, the birthday boy, who are you to say no —

“If you’re going to eat a piece, make sure it’s not the part where he blew his nose all over it.” Hoseok interjects as he casually saunters over to pick up his kermit duffle bag from one of the seats.

“Ah hyung!” Jimin exclaims petulantly, whipping his head to face the dancer and you bite back a snort, watching as his ears and the back of his neck turn crimson. “I would nev—I didn’t do such a thing! When did I — ?! Noona, don’t listen to him.”

“Wah this guy; she was in the same room as us when you blew out your candles that way! What are you saying, ‘I never did such a thing?!’” You hear Seokjin practically announce to the world and you see him across the room while dramatically pointing an accusing finger at Jimin.

That finally pushes a wheezing chuckle past your lips as you bend over slightly in hopes of concealing it but Jimin hears it all the same. He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, looking a lot like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. You compose yourself, turning back to give him a warm smile.

“It’s okay Jimin-ah, I still love you.”

Immediately a chorus of ooh’s go off around the room before it escalates to straight up whoops and hollers (you think you hear Yoongi screeching in the mix, yelling for everyone to start heading for the vans). It does nothing to calm the redness of Jimin’s ears so he all but curls in on himself, ducking his head into his hands as he lets out his own yell of embarrassment. You finally throw your head back and laugh aloud, can’t stand the group’s antics anymore as you get up from your seat.

“C’mon Jimin, go get change so you can go back to the hotel to rest and continue celebrating.” You encourage, trying to coax him with a few gentle pats on his head. He’s dyed his hair to a rich pink that borderlines on being magenta and despite his constant dye jobs, it’s still silky to the touch. You pull away before you get lost in wanting to stay and stroke his hair forever. After a few more minutes of coaxing, Jimin eventually drags himself out of his hole of embarrassment to change out of the concert t-shirt he was given to wear for the encore, coming out with one of his own shirts and a slightly baggy zip-up hoodie.

“You should come by my room for dinner noona.” Jimin suggests, hauling his bag over his shoulder as you two walk towards the hall leading towards the garage.

“I thought your members wanted to get together and drink a little for your birthday.” You say, stopping in your tracks.

“It’s just a few drinks to unwind and celebrate another successful concert, they won’t be long.”

You throw a look at him, tilting your head but can’t help smiling softly. “Don’t worry about me.” You reassure, taking his hand and squeezing when he goes to protest again. “Relax and enjoy your time with them freely. Besides, I still have to help around here a little bit more before leaving.”

You watch him chew his bottom lip and you feel the urge to reach up and stop him. So in a spurt of courage, you lean up to brush your lips to his cheeks but miscalculate in your hesitancy and instead, land one on the corner of his chin. It still does the trick in surprising him, wide eyes blinking down at you as you duck away in shyness.

“I-I’ll text you okay?”

Jimin reluctantly agrees with a mumble but not wanting to let you go just yet, pulls you into his arms. You’re more than happy to oblige as he rocks the both of you in place, taking in each other’s warmth as you bury your head into his shirt that still has the barest hints of his cologne on. Every once in a while you feel him press soft kisses on the crown of your head that causes you to involuntarily squeeze your arms tighter around him, refusing to look up at him like a knee jerk reaction from an overload of affection. You hear him giggle above you and then suddenly you’re assaulted by a barrage of kisses, Jimin making sure to smack his lips loudly each time he makes contact until you squeal and leap out of his arms, face boiling hot.

“G-Get going! They’re all w-waiting for you! I’ll let you know when I’m at the hotel okay? Love you, gotta go bye!” You say it all in one breath, turning hurriedly to scurry off but then screech to a halt when you remembered; his gift! So you race back almost shame-faced, eyes refusing to meet Jimin’s so all you hear is a noise of confusion but you grab his hand and shove the small black box into it before pivoting so fast you almost gave yourself whiplash, running all the way back to the waiting room to help pack away any remaining things that might need to be brought back to the hotel as well as clean up.

The last thing you hear is Jimin’s laugh echoing down the hall, followed by an equally loud ‘love you too!’

-

It’s midnight by the time you finally step foot into the hotel. You and the staff members have packed away most of the luggage trunks that contain a plethora of stage outfits, cosmetics and other knick knacks that was a part of the concert. You all also took advantage of the catering leftovers, some taking food for when everyone needs to be up early and already on the go with no time for morning room service.

During the time you worked to clean up, Jimin had been messaging you through Kakao, asking how you were doing and if you’ll be on your way soon, all of which you reply, telling him that you will be and reminding him that he should be enjoying his dinner and drinks with his members. It’s been a good while since then, the singer becoming uncharacteristically quiet but you can only attribute that to him taking up on your advice or that he must’ve headed off to bed early after a belly full of good food, drinks and being dead tired from doing a concert.

So you’re surprised when your messenger goes off as you’re on your way to your floor and when you pull out your phone to check, the name that pops up is Jimin’s.

“Noonaaaaa, are youh ere yet???? TTT“

“I miss youuu TT please hurryy backkk TTT”

You snort, taking the time to reply back to him and wondering to yourself if there was any possible way that Jimin is currently very tipsy right now (something you think is rather impossible, given how much the boy drinks but even then, he looks and acts fairly sober) for him to be texting this way.

“Yes, I’m on my way to my room. Did you eat well? What are you doing still up?”

“Yess I ate a lot ^^ but I miss youu moree TT

Come over to my room pleaese~~? I’m lonely”

A character sticker pops up under the message, expressing big, round puppy eyes that you can’t say no to.

So you don’t.

“hh okay, I’ll come over just for a bit alright?”

“Yayyy!!!! I’ll wait for you~~~ <3”

A giggle escapes you before you hit the elevator button to close the door and push the appropriate floor the boys were on. Once it reaches with a ding, you head out down the hall, past doors until you finally come to the right one and after ringing the doorbell once, it flings open and you’re engulfed in a tight embrace.

“Noonaaaa~!” Jimin whines, making an effort to wrap himself around you like a koala bear. “I miss you~~”

“We just saw each other not too long ago Jimin-ah.” You laugh breathlessly, straining from his weight even though you’re putting back as much effort into the hug.

“That’s too long ago….” He murmurs into your hair. You chuckle, patting him on the head as he continues to smother you but choke out a squeak when he suddenly lifts you and shuffles the both of you into his room. He does well in balance for the most part, to the point where you’re baffled but like your thoughts had jinxed it, his foot catches mid-step and you get deposited onto the couch a lot less gracefully than what Jimin had intended. You release an ‘oof’ as your back hits the cushions and Jimin barely has any time to keep his weight from crushing you, bracing his hands on either side of you to do so.

“Oh my God noona, are you okay? I didn’t mean to drop you.” He’s apologizing between embarrassed giggles and find yourself smiling and giggling along with him.

“It’s okay.” You assure, voice slightly muffled into his shoulder before jokingly asking. “Are you drunk?”

He pulls back if only to give you a greasy grin, “If you mean on your love, then yes.”

You turn away with a snort and when you feel like that wasn’t enough, you bring a hand up to hide half of your face while using the other to give a small shove on his chest. He gets off of you with a laugh, squeaking as he heads off into another part of the room. After taking the time to recover, you finally take notice of the coffee table in front of you that’s laid out with various plates of fruits, pastries and the half eaten cake Jimin received earlier. Your eyes naturally turn to where Jimin’s back is facing you, busying himself at a round dining table that’s been pushed to the far corner littered with white porcelain plates of dinner, multiple glasses and champagne bottles; hints of the members being here earlier. It seems like they had a good time.

“Did you eat yet noona?”

“Ah, I had a bit to eat before leaving.” You answer, sinking comfortably back into your seat as you continue to watch Jimin. He strides languidly from the table to the other side of the room near the mini fridge, a bottle of champagne in his hand and when your eyes travel to his destination, you spy the two additional flute glasses that he automatically reaches for. You tilt your head in disbelief though a smile creeps onto your lips all the same; you honestly shouldn’t be surprised at this point. No sooner, Jimin settles down beside you, placing the two glasses onto the table before he goes to uncork the bottle.

“You should eat more, there’s plenty of food left still. The hyungs all went a little crazy with the room service.” He says that but sloshes the alcohol he’s pouring into his glass, splashing some of it onto the plate of strawberries. You try not to let out a laugh, however the strong exhale through your nose gives you away anyways.

“Don’t laugh.” Jimin scolds playfully, lowering his tone so that it sounded more nasally and from the base of his throat.

“Yes, Jimin-ssi.” You smile, taking the glass he offers you and when he grabs his own, you raise yours in cheers. “Happy birthday to Jimin-ah.”

“Thank you jagiya~” He coos back, clinking his glass to yours before he turns away out of respect to down it in one go. You’re left blinking by yourself as you, at most, take a hearty sip of yours. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him do that but it still leaves you very awestruck and…. A little afraid.

When he finishes, Jimin throws his head back, sighing out loudly in satisfaction as he ruffles his hair, smile never leaving his plush lips. You find yourself having the same problem as you watch him practically radiate joy from every fibre of his being, placing your glass down to reach for a piece of fruit. You both fall into quiet conversations about your day, the gifts he got, the projects he’s seen on Twitter for his birthday, funny things that happened during the day, conversations with his members — all the little things. You try your best to indulge in Jimin’s drinking but find very quickly that it’s best to sit that one out as you’re already feeling quite the buzz by the third glass, any more and Jimin would probably be the one to carry you to bed.

“How was celebrating your birthday during a concert?”

The singer’s smile widen (if that’s even possible) until his eyes crease, lolling his head so that it rests on the back of the couch as he replies, “It was amazing. It’s not the first time I’ve celebrated my birthday on tour but every time it’s always special because it makes me realize that no matter where I am, there’s always so many people who love and cherish me; ARMY, the members, the staff and you. You’re the ones who make it special even when I might think my birthday is not all that special.”

“What are you saying…without your birthday you wouldn’t exist…” You scold in a mumble, mouth stuffed with a pineapple wedge. “And that would suck…”

Your comment causes Jimin to giggle melodically, reaching over as if to pinch your cheek but you deflect, ducking away like a cat who doesn’t want to be petted. It makes him want to tease you more but he lets it go for now.

“I’m just a little sad that my family couldn’t make it to the show this time around…” Jimin continues with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I would’ve love to have dinner with them and introduced you…”

Your eyes widen a fraction at the confession, heart speeding up at the thought of meeting Jimin’s family. In the time that you’ve been dating Jimin, he very seldom lets anyone interact with the people he cherishes most (friend or family). He’s scarily a good judge of character, even if he had only spoken two words to someone he just met. Jimin’s always polite and friendly by nature of course, but he’s someone who doesn’t accept just anyone into his circle of friends. So for him to announce that he wants you to meet his family….

You feel honoured as you break out into a cold sweat.

“Jagiya relax.” Jimin giggles, taking a hold of your hand, his face turned towards you now to notice your quiet panic. “I’m just getting ahead of myself… But I really do want you to meet them, and when you do, I’m positive they’ll love you.”

The sincerity of his words makes your heart speed up for an entirely different reason now, and you find it hard to look away from the soft smile he’s giving you — not when he seems to look at you like you’re the entire universe when his eyes are the ones that glisten like he holds the universe in them. You’re smitten really, at how easily Jimin had washed away all your worries with simple touches and glances like this and it just makes you love him all the more.

“You think so…?” You don’t mean to whisper, but you feel like anything louder would disrupt this intimate moment you’re sharing. You feel him squeeze your hand gently, the sweetest of smile adorning his lips, setting his face aglow.

“I know so.”

His voice comes out in a much softer tone, huskier around the edges as he seems to share the same sentiment as you. Jimin’s eyes remain fixated on you, drinking your image in like it’s the first time he’s seen something so mesmerizing and for that, you can’t help but to steadily grow self-conscious. Before you’re able to drop your gaze from the intensity, he sighs out.

“God, I really want to kiss you right now noona.”

Your breath hitches; the way he says it sounds like he’s been holding back for quite some time, admitting only now because he can’t stand it for much longer. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking but you shouldn’t be the one to talk because suddenly, you feel a rush of adrenaline that spurs you on to do something you’d probably chicken out halfway if you were sober.

“Close your eyes.”

The steadiness in your voice takes even Jimin by surprise, blinking owlishly for a second before he obliges, eyes sliding close. You breathe in deeply, steeling your nerves and hoping that the sound of your rapidly beating heart doesn’t give you away as you lean in close until your lips press on the smooth skin of his forehead. You don’t linger for long as you slowly lower your face until your lips touch delicately over each of his eyelids, so soft that to Jimin, they feel like the brush of butterfly wings.

“Don’t look yet…” You murmur when you feel his eyes flutter behind closed lids and you move to place your lips on the apples of his cheek, taking in the way he seems to desperately want to reach out to you, feel your lips on his — a hard swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing and the subtle scrunch from the couch under his grip is the only thing that gives away his anticipation. You don’t mean to tease, but you can’t help but want to take your time in appreciating him, show how much you cherish him if not through your words than through your actions. So when you finally press a kiss to those soft, pillowy lips, he melts in an instant, instinctively tilting his head so that you both slot perfectly together.

Your eyes flutter close, giving in to him as you feel one hand cup the side of your neck and the other pulls you in even closer, hoisting you into his lap, chest bumping until all you feel is him. Your sighs are swallowed by him and he takes his time to kiss you thoroughly, just as you had with him, sucking on your bottom lip and coaxing you with his tongue. You break away multiple times only to draw back in because neither of you can’t get enough of the taste of each other but eventually you do with a soft smack of your lips. Mind clearing from the haze that is Jimin, you notice how you’re straddling his hips and how he’s reclined against the couch, staring up at you with pupils blown out underneath slightly tousled hair. His lips are parted as puffs of air brush against your cheek, pink and swollen with a wet sheen to them — you don’t think yours are any better but while you think you look like a complete, total mess, Jimin looks divine.

It must’ve showed on your face because a sly smile stretches across his face, followed by a chuckle that rumbles from his chest to yours.

“That was naughty of you noona.”

The deep raspy tone alone was nearly enough to sober you up. You begin to lean away, more than embarrassed but you feel his arms tighten around you, keeping you in place.

“No don’t….” He almost whines, “Give me one more for my birthday…”

You blink, letting his words sink in and when they do, a giggle bubbles up inside of you, making your shoulders shake and you have to lower your head down to rest against his shoulder. You hear him giggling along with you but you don’t think it’s for the same reason as yours. Once you’ve managed to reel yourself in, you bring a hand up to run a hand through his hair, brushing away the strands as lean your forehead gently against his own, smiling softly down at him.

“Okay….”

He’s all too pleased when you agree, smiling into the kiss that you’re all too happy to give.

You won’t point out the fact that it’s been way past midnight.

-

Bonus

You notice it as Jimin stretches his neck back for a second, the silver finally catching the light of the lamps.

“You’re wearing it…” You can’t help but let it slip out. Jimin hears you and follows your eyes until he sees what you’re so fixated on. A grin immediately breaks out across his lips.

“Of course I am noona. I was surprised when I opened it; how’d you find it?”

“I didn’t…” You admit, fiddling with the sleeves of your pullover. “I heard you lost it and how you couldn’t find a replacement ever since so…I thought you would like to have it again. I know it was important to you.”

He nuzzles his nose against yours affectionately, beaming at you with so much gratitude you think it’s a little undeserved of you. “Thank you noona, it really means a lot to me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have someone who cares about me and ARMY.”

You’re the lucky one here, you think, cheeks heating up at the praises and you take to occupying yourself by straightening out the little silver letters that spell out ‘ARMY’ resting on the base of his neck. He flinches away, giggling from how ticklish your fingers are making him.

“You know I’m still ARMY even if I’m your girlfriend too, right?”

“Of course noona~ I know you’re my biggest fan~”

[stratus-skye07]

You Think You Know Me | Chen

Requested: Can I request Chen x reader where Chen is a mafia leader but the reader doesn't know until the reader finds out and they have a big argument which causes the reader to leave but the reader comes back and they make up. Super fluff and angst thanks 

Genre: Angst / Fluff Ending / Mafia AU

Word Count: 11k

It’s odd when you look back at how you were a few years ago and how much has changed. Of course, it happens but to such an extent where you feel like you were living someone else’s life.

Living a normal life is what a majority of the population come to expect as they get older. For some, it’s easier, and others it’s not as easy. I was given the short end of the stick in life. Both my parents died when I was young, leaving me to be raised by my grandpa who eventually passed away shortly after I graduated high school. I was alone.

Fending for myself, I didn’t have the financial means to go to college so working part-time jobs was my only way to eat and have a roof over my head. While working one of my jobs is when I met him.

Being a waitress pays well, at least for me, but can be the most tiring job of them all. It wasn’t easy getting this job at such a popular and elegant restaurant so I work my hardest to do the job well.

Tonight’s reservation is supposed to be the most important for the restaurant. It’s booked out to a group of very important businessman. They buy out the restaurant every now and again to hold meetings of important matters. This was the first time they would be here since I’ve been working here.

The owner of the restaurant hands me a four-page nondisclosure agreement, “I’m gonna need you to read over this and sign it for tonight’s guest. Should you choose not to sign then I’ll have to replace you.”

I raise my eyebrows, “So these guys are a huge deal?” I ask.

He nods, “Yes, they’re old friends of mine and have given a helping hand in making the restaurant the way it is. I let them come here to hold their meetings in confidentiality so whatever you hear doesn’t leave this place.”

“Can I ask what kind of business they do?”

He sighs, “A wide variety of marketing. So please read over this, sign it, and give it to me before tonight.”

It took me a few rereads to be sure that I understood everything that was expected of me before I officially signed the NDA and handed it in. Shortly before the guest was due to arrive, I mentally prepare myself to work the rest of the night. While tying my apron, I overhear some of the girls talking about tonight’s event.

One of them claps in excitement, “I’ve been waiting for tonight since the last time they were here.”

“I know, we rarely get any handsome guys to come in but for one night, we get nine of them all at once.”

“Last time they were here, Kai winked at me. How can someone look so cute but sexy with that grin of his?”

Seeing as these two have worked here long enough to know something about these guys. I’m not close to either of them but it wouldn’t hurt to ask about them.

“Who exactly are these guys?” I ask, entering their conversation.

They both start to gush again when one of them explains, “They’re all CEOs of different companies. They come together for meetings to collaborate on their businesses.”

“The best part is they’re bachelors.”

I nod, “Usually rich businessmen are. I’m sure they have a fiance waiting for them somewhere.”

Both girls began to giggle again, “They’re self-made CEOs so their parents do force them to get married.”

“Which means they get to marry whoever they want.” The other girl adds.

I hum in understanding of their excitement, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?” I say jokingly to get their emotions riled up again.

They both nod in glee until one of them stops, “Well maybe not with Kim Jongdae.”

The other looks sad as well, “Oh yeah, Mr. Kim.”

“Mr. Kim?” I ask.

“He’s the big boss of the other eight. He’s much tougher to get his attention. All the others at least glance at us when we walk around to serve but Mr. Kim doesn’t even flinch. He’s either really not interested or he’s gay, which is such a loss for women.”

Before I could get any more information about the group, we had to get to work as they arrived. I and the two other girls stood across from the table that was in the center of the room. The nine men enter the room. We all bow our heads to greet the men. The silence is deafening. The only sound that’s being made is the set of footsteps walking around the room.

As they take their seats, we go to work. The girls gave me a rundown of everyone’s names. On one side of the table sat, Park Chanyeol, Oh Sehun, Kim Minseok, and Kim Jongin. The second important CEO, Kim Junmyeon, sits on the other side followed by Do Kyungsoo, Zhang Yixing and Byun Baekhyun. I can already tell from his position at the end of the table that is was the boss of bosses, Mr. Kim.

I go around handing each of them their menus until I reach Mr. Kim. As I’m turning to face him, my apron slides across the table causing it to take his fork with it. The fork lands on the floor. I gasp as I quickly bend down to reach for it but Mr. Kim’s hand reaches for it just as fast causing our hands to touch.

I look up to meet his eyes. I bow my head, “I’m sorry, I’ll get you a new one.”

He gives me a gentle smile as he shakes his head, “It’s okay, I believe in the five-second rule.” I chuckle at his comment as I rise to my feet to continue serving.

A few minutes go by and the guys have ordered. Their food begins to arrive in the room. I’m pouring the wine when I notice, the two girls discussing something at the opposite side of the room. Once I finish, I walk over to them to see what the problem is.

“Everyone is waiting for their food, what’s going on?” I whisper to them.

“She forgot who ordered what.”

I look at the other to ask, “How did you forget, you took their orders.”

“I know but I forgot to write their names down along with the orders.” She explains in a slight frantic without causing a scene.

“Is the food ready yet? I’m hungry.” The one named Baekhyun asks.

“I’m screwed.”

I sigh, “Just grab a plate and watch for my signal.” Luckily for her, I overheard them making their decisions before ordering. My memory has never failed me in all my years of living.

I take half of the plates and give them to their owners. While I’m setting a plate down to Suho that’s sitting at the opposite side of the table, I glance as the girl walks slowly towards Chanyeol with Minseok’s plate. I slightly shake my head twice until she reaches Minseok to which I nod.

Once all the food has been given out I attempt to go back to my position with the other girls when a loud voice calls out to me.

“You!” I turn to find, of all people, Mr. Kim pointing at me. “Come here.”

I stand beside him, “Yes, sir?”

Slowly his gaze goes from the center of the table, up to me. “Did anyone ask an opinion from you?”

“Excuse me?” I ask, not understanding what he meant. His attitude is completely different than how it was just a few minutes ago.

He just raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. I quickly lower my head, “No, sir.”

“You seem to have some issues controlling the balance of your head.” He says.

He must be talking about the signals I was giving the girl about each dish. I don’t know what to say to him without throwing my coworker under the bus.

“I-I was just recalling something completely irrelevant. I’m sorry if there was a misunderstanding.” I say bowing my head.

He scoffs then begins to spit out numbers, “Zero, nine, two, one, one, nine, nine, two.”

I look at him in confusion, “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“If you have such a great memory then you must be smart as well. Add all the numbers I just said then multiply it by nine. If you get it wrong, you’re fired.”

I scoff at how ridiculous this has come down to. I stare at the center of the table as I begin to think.

Mr. Kim shakes his head, “If it’s too difficult then maybe this job is too hard for-”

I finish thinking to answer, “Two hundred and ninety-seven.” I return his gaze. It’s not difficult, I was just finishing multiplying thirty-three by nine.”

The room is silent as I begin to feel like I’m causing more trouble than just getting fired and leaving but I need this job and I won’t let some snobby CEO take it away from me when he has no idea the struggle it is to work in the lower class.

I bow respectfully, “I can see that I’ve caused some discomfort in the room and for that, I apologize. I’ll excuse myself.”

“No.” He stops me, “Stay and do your job.”

Without saying anything else, he continued to talk to the other men as if nothing happened. I continued to serve the whole table but at the same time, I began to have a feeling that I was being watched. I wanted to think that it was Mr. Kim watching me but the girls said so themselves that he never bats an eye at any woman. I brush off the feeling until the end of the night.

After the men have finished eating, I and the other girls take the plates to the back so we can end our night when the boss approaches me.

“Y/N, can I have a word with you.” He asks.

My heart begins to race thinking about what it could be. Is he actually gonna fire me? My answer wasn’t wrong. Yet again, I doubt he would just let an incident like that pass.

We go into his office. After he closes the door, he stands in front of me. I lower my gaze awaiting what he was going to say.

He sighs, “What an interesting night for you. I can’t say I’ve seen worse.”

“I apologize for causing you trouble,” I say.

He nods before extending his hand to me, “Here.”

Reaching out my hand, he hands me an envelope. With confidence, I take it and open it to find money inside.

“Is this my last pay?” I ask, knowing the answer.

Suddenly, he starts chuckling. “No, I’m not firing you. This is from Mr. Kim. It’s your tip.”

My eyes widen as I look at the wad of money that’s in the envelope. Too much to give a waitress as a tip.

“I thought he didn’t like me,” I say in shock.

“The opposite, actually. He was impressed that you were able to get the answer correct and also put him in place so respectfully. He says you worked hard and to keep it up.”

Shaking my head, I leave his office in disbelief. Once the shock factor goes away, I begin to think that this amount of money isn’t right to keep. Call me dumb but there’s only so much money a person can accept for an odd reason.

I run out of the restaurant to find Mr. Kim but by the time I spot him, he’s getting into his car and begins to drive away. In a quick attempt to catch up and get his attention, I end up breaking the heel of my shoe. I fall on the sidewalk, nearly twisting my ankle.

Great, if things could’ve gotten any weirder for tonight.

On my next day off, I ask my boss where Mr. Kim works so that I could return his money. As much as I need the money, I don’t think it’s right to take this much for not doing much. In a way, I feel like I would owe that person something if I kept it.

I would’ve come sooner but my ankle ended up swelling which kept me from working for a few days. It’s still a bit tender to walk on but I didn’t wanna prolong giving the money back.

With a lot of pleading, he gives me the address to his company. The tall exterior of the building is a little intimidating but I push that thought out of my head or else I would never go in.

I enter the building where there’s a lot of businesspeople walking around. I notice the reception desk that had five different secretaries sitting.

I approach one of the employees, “Excuse me, is CEO Kim Jongdae available?”

“Do you have an appointment?” She asks.

Before I can say no and expect to get turned away, there’s a familiar voice that says from behind me, “She does now.”

Looking over my shoulder, there’s Kim Jongdae.

After the awkward staredown, he has me following him up to the top of the building which is most likely where his office is located. I tried to just tell him straightforwardly that I didn’t want the money so it wouldn’t take up any more of his time but he insisted I follow him to talk.

I felt uncomfortable the entire time we were waiting in the elevator to get to his floor. He didn’t even look at me the entire time. I also felt out of place since the building was filled with businessmen and women then there’s me. A random girl walking in, wearing jeans and a hoodie.

Once we enter his office, I’m amazed at how large it is. I almost mistook it for a meeting room but I’m not exactly familiar with the business lifestyle.

Mr. Kim walks over to his desk to sit in his chair when he starts to speak again, “So what do I owe this sudden visit? Did you come for another problem to solve?” He asks jokingly.

I shake my head, “It’s actually about this.” I take out the envelope from my jacket pocket, “This tip you left me.”

He raises his eyebrows, “What about it? Was it not enough?”

“No, it was actually too much. I can’t accept this much no matter how much I may need it. So I’m returning it.” I say sliding the thick envelope onto his table.

He shakes his head, “I don’t want it back. It’s no longer mine.”

I scoff, “Are you seriously choosing to be difficult about this?”

Shrugging, he adjusts himself in his seat, “The real question is, why did it take you so long to come here to return it? Did you have an inner moral discussion for the past few days?”

No, my ankle was killing me but I won’t bother telling him my problems. A man of his stature doesn’t understand the struggles of low-class people like me anyway.

I simply shake my head, “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Just take your money back. I’m sure it doesn’t really matter to you anyways.”

I turn to walk out of the office when my ankle begins to act up again. I yelp in pain as I quickly bounce off it but lose my balance in the process. I reach for something to hold so I can let the sting pass but I end up leaning into Mr. Kim.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I say nervously feeling the firmness of his body against mine. “It’s just my ankle.”

Looking up at him in surprise at how quick he was to come to my aid. I try to push away from him but he held me in place to not lean on my foot.

“Come here,” He leads me to the chair across from his desk, “Sit. Let me take a look at it.”

Kneeling in front of me, he reaches for my ankle but I quickly pull my leg back to hide it, “It’s not a big deal. It’s still in the healing process.”

“Don’t make me hold you down.” He says in an aggressive voice. “Let me see.” His tone isn’t a threatening one but more like a dad ordering their kid to show their scraped knee.

Not wanting to argue about it, I lift my ankle. It’s kind of embarrassing having a complete stranger check on your ankle for you, especially when that stranger is as handsome as Mr. Kim.

He takes off my sneaker and lowers my sock to where only my ankle was exposed. He gazes at the slight bruising around it. Once I got home that night, it swelled up. Now that the swelling went down, it left behind the bruises which make it difficult to walk around sometime.

“When did this happen?” He asks as he moves my ankle around.

“That night,” I say not giving much information about how it occurred.

“Was it because of the money, you ended up hurting yourself.” He asks in a low voice.

Ignoring eye contact, I don’t say anything but I know that he put two and two together to get somewhat an idea of how I hurt myself.

Without saying anything else, Mr. Kim walks out of the office then returns with a first aid kit. He takes out a pain patch and carefully places it over the bruised area.

Suddenly he speaks again but with a much softer tone, “I didn’t mean anything by it. I gave you that much money because I felt bad for embarrassing you. I misunderstood you, twice now, and I don’t usually do that so apologizing isn’t something I do often. Giving money is what I’m used to since no one questions it. They just take it.”

“It’s a shock when you find that not everyone’s like that,” I say.

He begins to massage the patch. At first, it was painful but he adjusted the pressure so it felt more soothing. My eyes began to linger around the movement of his hands. His slender fingers going up and down my leg made it harder to breathe.

“Mr. Kim...”

I immediately lose my train of thought when his gaze turns to me again. Neither of us moves an inch. My stomach is beginning to knot up at the sight of him. Unwelcoming thoughts begin to come to mind of his hands moving a high to grip my thighs.

That thought is knocked out of my head when the phone on his desk begins to ring. He sighs before pressing the speaker button.

“Mr. Kim, your meeting is about to start.” The woman on the phone says.

“I’ll be right there.” He confirms.

Putting my shoe back on, I take the envelope that I had left on his desk and take out a twenty-dollar bill.

“I’ll accept this as my tip. I’m sorry to disturb you.” I say as I bow my head.

Without saying another word or allowing him to say anything back, I leave his office. For most of my life, I’ve known when to draw the line. Kim Jongdae is in another world than me so he’s on the other side of a line that I can’t cross. It’s better to leave this way.

A couple weeks go by and work has been busier than ever. My ankle stopped hurting that helped a lot in keeping up the pace of work. The only thing that has become a pain in the ass for tonight is the douche bag businessmen that are sitting in my section. All of them obviously married but still try their best to flirt with me. Married men like them make me wonder how their wives even said yes.

I approach the table again to refill their drinks. The three men turn their attention to me as I lean in to pour the wine into their glasses.

“Y/N,” One of the older men with glasses calls me, “what time do you get off work?”

I scoff, “Around the time you should be putting your kids to bed.” I say.

I try to stay as calm as I can when it comes to customers like these because it’s my job to maintain a kind demeanor towards everyone but I don’t want them to think they can do whatever they want just because they’re the customers.

The man chuckles, “I like a kitty with claws. How about when you get off work I take you home in my car. It’s a really fancy one.” His tone is almost like he’s trying to talk brainless person.

“I’m afraid I have more important things to attend to, sir. Enjoy the rest of your meal.” I say with a forced smile to my face.

The work night is finally over. The rest of the night got a little easier after those businessmen left. With my purse over my shoulder, I head out of the restaurant to walk towards the bus stop. I just want to go home and pass out from the constant walking around.

As I’m walking down the sidewalk, a car pulls up beside me and parks. I don’t think anything of it until I hear the driver call me by name.

“Y/N!”

Turning my head, I see the man from earlier. He gets out of his car to approach me. He has this odd-looking smile on his face once he’s in front of me.

He points to his car, “I told you I had a nice car. Get in and let me take you for a spin.”

I take a step away, “No, that’s okay. I have to get home or else my boyfriend will get worried. Please get home safely.”

I begin to walk away but he continues to follow my every step, “Well, let me give you a ride home. I’m sure gorgeous hard-working young lady like yourself is exhausted from being on her feet all day.”

I finally snap, “Listen, I’m not interested in what you might have planned for me so please go away or I’ll report you for harassment!”

His face turns sour, “When the fuck is being nice harassment. You should be grateful an honest man like me is even offering to help you. There’s not many of those around.”

I scoff at him. Not wanting to have to listen to his so-called justified excuses, I continue to walk down the sidewalk.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He forces me to stop by grabbing a hold of my wrist and pulling me towards him. “I’m not done talking to you. For someone who works at a high-class place, you should really learn to respect people.”

“Let go of me!” I instinctively knee him in the groin. His grip on my arm only tightens as he bends over in pain.

“You rude little bitch!” He shouts before punching me in the face.

I fall to the ground, I cup my face from the sudden shock. Once a man puts his hands on a woman, there’s no telling how much more damage he’ll do.

The man towers over me and grabs my leg for me to not get away, “Seems like you need a man to teach you some manners.” He says raising his fist again.

I flinch and close my eyes as I wait for the impact again.

When the hit doesn’t come, I glance over my hand to see Mr. Kim holding the man’s wrist. His face looks stern along with his jaw clenching as he eyes down the guy.

“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you.”

“Who-”

Before the man can even finish his sentence, Mr. Kim delivers a hard strike to the man’s face. The man groans in pain as he bends at an angle from the hit. Mr. Kim grabs him by the collar of his shirt to lift him upright again.

He shoves the man hard against his car door before punching him in the stomach. The man tries to bend over from the hit but Mr. Kim pulls him back to stand upright to look straight at his face.

“Take a good look at my face, you piece of shit.” He practically growls while speaking again, “You come near this girl again and my face is gonna be the last one you see. So get back in your fancy car and don’t come back here.”

Mr. Kim opens the door for him before shoving the man into his car. The man takes a moment to snap out of what happened to finally drive away.

I stand and approach Mr. Kim. He’s still staring in the direction the car drove away in. His body is tense. His fist is still balled up and slightly shaking from anger.

“Mr. Kim?” I call out to him which manages to snap him out of his rage. “Are you okay?” I ask noticing his knuckles are pretty red.

His face finally loosens up enough for him to give me a smile, “I should be asking you that.”

I take a huge sigh of relief that things didn’t get any worse, “I’m okay, thanks to you.”

“You shouldn’t be walking around alone at night like this.” He says. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

I shake my head, “Oh no, you’ve gone through enough trouble for me. I can take the bus as I always do.”

“I won’t take no for an answer this time. I’d feel better knowing that you got home safely. So if you wouldn’t mind?” He says signaling towards the much nicer car that was parked across the street.

The car ride to my apartment was pretty quiet. Mr. Kim would considerately ask if I was okay or if I felt any pain anywhere. Those were the only times he spoke. The rest of the way was silence. Even though I had gone through a scary situation, I didn’t feel scared of being alone with Mr. Kim. It was more the opposite. I felt like I was the safest in the car with him.

Once we got to my apartment, Mr. Kim walked me all the way up to the door. He eyed the neighborhood with a look of uncomfortably.

“This is where you live?” He asks.

I shrug, “Yeah, I know it’s not great but it’s all I can afford.”

“Not someplace I’d see someone like you living in.” He says.

I chuckle as I ask, “Oh really? Where do you think I should live? Gangnam?”

Suddenly, instead of replying, he reaches out to pull my face closer to his with his hands around the back of my neck. Space is nearly gone between us as he examines my face from where I got hit. My eyes widen at how close I can see the features of his face.

He strokes my cheek with his thumb, “This is gonna bruise. I’d ice it down before you go to bed.” He advises.

Feeling the knots forming in my stomach again, I slowly pull his hands away from my neck. Looking up at him, I ask, “What were you doing near the restaurant?”

He’s wearing casual clothes so he couldn’t be coming to have a meeting or anything. I doubt him showing up here was a coincidence. Those rarely happen to me.

He sighs as he puts his hands in his pockets, “You want the truth or some sappy excuse?” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Truth then.” He runs his hands through his hair, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you since you left my office.”

“Huh?” I ask in confusion. “I didn’t take you for a joker.”

Looking at me with a serious face, he says, “I’m not.”

“Mr. Kim-”

“Please, call me Jongdae.”

His sudden confession took me off guard and I assumed he was only after a one night stand but it’s not until he asked me out on a date that I began to feel that it wasn’t just one thing he was after. There were sincere feelings from him.

After seeing a movie, we take a walk before calling it a night. We walk somewhat in awkward silence. I’ve never been on a date with someone like him before.

Finally, he breaks the silence by asking, “Did you like the movie?”

I nod, “Oh yeah, I was looking forward to seeing it so I appreciate you taking me.”

He smiles charmingly, “I usually don’t go out to see movies or things like that since work always gets in the way.”

“It’s okay, Mr. K-I mean Jongdae.” He laughs at my sudden correction. “Sorry, I met you as a CEO. I never imagined we’d be going on a date.”

“I understand. I know it was sudden. Believe me, I was surprised myself. It’s really hard for women to catch my attention but there was something about you that I couldn’t shake.” He explains.

“I’m just me. There’s nothing extra to me.” I say.

Shaking his head, he adds, “For some reason, I don’t buy that. I think there’s something different about you that even you don’t know.”

I look at him confusingly, “I’m not following.”

“Like, why did you give me the tip back?” He continues, “You could’ve just accepted it. Instead, you came all the way down to my work to return it. Not many people would go to that extent so why would you?”

I shrugged not sure what to say, “It’s hard to explain, really.”

“I mean, was it how you were brought up?”

I scoff, “Hardly. Both my parents died when I was really young so I barely remembered them. When I started living with my grandpa, he was extremely hard on me growing up. Always said that if I were to live with him then I needed to pay my dues. He found every excuse possible to get me to work. All because I lived with him. He didn’t care if we were blood.”

I sigh as I continue to explain, “I’ve always felt that if you are given something that you owe that person. You, giving me so much money, made me feel like I’d owe you eventually. I can’t owe anyone anything when I don’t even have anything for myself.”

“I understand that. Money is the only thing I can offer anyone so there would never be any favors that need to be returned.”

Nodding, I take the plunge to ask the burning question, “Since you brought it up. Why did you ask me out?”

He stops to look at me, “Why?” He repeats.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it. It’s just that you’re a CEO and I’m just a waitress, along with other part-time jobs. I’m nothing special. I mean you’ve seen where I live. Why the interest in me?”

He shrugs, “I’m not sure yet. I guess that’s why I asked you out, so I could figure that out. Besides, I’m a self-made businessman, which means there’s no one above me to tell me who to date and I surely don’t care what other people say about me. Aside from being smart, you’re beautiful and as far as I know, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Looking at him, I begin to feel this warm feeling in my chest. Working in a high-class restaurant, I’ve seen all the rich men look down on people with less money than them. In their eyes, they’re not on their level. I always thought that was every rich businessman. Never would I meet someone like Jongdae that looked passed all the materialism.

At this moment, I stop seeing Jongdae as CEO Kim but as a regular man.

“Jongdae-”

I don’t get a chance to speak when a thunderous roar begins to sound from the sky scares me. Within seconds, it starts raining. Jongdae quickly grabs my hand and leads back towards his car.

By the time we reach the car, we’re both soaking wet. I begin to get chills from the cold droplets of water.

“Are you cold?” Jongdae asks.

I rub my hands together, “No, I’m fine.”

“Let me see.” Without warning, he reaches out to grab both my hands in his.

The warm feeling of his hands' enveloping mine made my heart race. I stare at his skin glistening from the pouring rain as well as his damp hair that caused his the fringe to fall over his eyes. The feeling continued to travel into the pit of my stomach until the sight of him became more erotic than intended the longer I stared.

“I’ll turn on the heat.”

He loosens his grip on my hands, preparing to let go when I tighten my hold on him. His gaze raises up to meet mine. For an intense moment, I stare back at his eyes until my attention goes down to his lips.

Lust wins over reasoning as I lean in to meet his lips. There’s no hesitation from Jongdae either. He cups my cheek to pull me closer but the center console kept us too far apart. With a tug of my arm, Jongdae guides me over to straddle him in the driver’s seat. Before I knew it, I was searching for the waistband of his pants to undo his zipper. The outside became a blur from the fog that formed on the windows.

It didn’t take long for us to get close after that. The year went by so fast. After the first few months, he started taking care of me more than I’d expect anyone to. The gifts started off little then grew to the extreme. First, he got me a diamond bracelet. Then for our six-month mark, he bought me a car. At the beginning of our relationship, he would either pick me up or have one of his drivers get me from work and it felt burdening. He bought me a car for independence.

The recent gift was the most extravagant. It was for my birthday, he got me an apartment in Gangnam. He even put everything in my name so that if we ever broke up, he wouldn’t be able to take it away from me and leave me homeless.

Each gift I tried to decline them as much as I could because of the feeling of owing something to him but he quickly convinced me by saying that the only thing he wanted in return was my love and support. Saying that it was much greater to him to have from me than anything he’s given me. I started realizing that he wasn’t giving me everything so that I would be tied down to him. He was giving me these things to make life easier for me and it was sincere.

I enter the large building I once felt intimidated by but now seems like a place I work at. A place where I can walk in with casual clothes. Jongdae had given me a badge of my own so I would be able to come and go into the building to see him without being stopped and most of the employees already knew who I am.

The one thing that Jongdae had me promise him is to always check with his secretary before going into his office. He always has a lot of important people visit him so I make sure to respect his work environment.

Once I’m given the okay to enter his office, I enter quietly just to see him in his focus state. It gives me more time to admire his serious demeanors. It’s not until I close the door behind me that he turns his attention to me. The corner of his mouth turns up before he gets out of his chair to greet me with a hug.

“Hey,” He gives me a peck on the lips, “what brings you here?” He asks.

“I just came to see how things are going,” I say.

He hums, “It’s been pretty busy but why do I sense that there’s something more to this visit.”

I sigh, “Fine, you got me. I was wondering if you were going to be free sometime later maybe when you get off work?”

He chuckles, “I wish I could say yes, but I actually have some important business to do with the guys.”

“Again, I see and here I figured if I came in person you wouldn’t reject me this time but it seems that I’m losing my touch after a year.”

I attempt to slip out of his grasp but he holds me tighter. “To be honest, it makes it extremely difficult. On the phone, I don’t have to see your beautiful face in such disappointment.”

“I figured you would give me at least one night to have you to myself,” I say.

“I would but you know how busy work has gotten as of late. This is one of those busy months.” He says.

“It’s the third time this week. You’re beginning to neglect me, Jongdae.” I say with a pouty look on my face.

He kisses my temple, “I know, but we’re in the middle of a huge business deal. I need to make sure everything goes according to plan. No one but me can get this right. I promise though that I will make it up to you. You know I always keep my promises.”

The sad thing is it’s not the first time he’s been consecutively busy and I’ve been understanding of his work. The only reason I give him the guilt trip is to make sure he doesn’t get too used to my understanding. The rewarding thing is he always makes up for it with whatever I want which isn’t something he can buy.

I nod my head, “You promise?” Feeling the desk behind me, I hoist myself on to sit on the edge. “I don’t know if I believe you this time. You’ll have to start making it up to me.”

He chuckles taking a step closer, his waist filled in the space between my legs, “You’re right.” He says putting his hands on either side of the desk, “You’ve been so patient with me.” He begins to whisper as he speaks and dragging his lips across my neck and jaw.

Once his lips find mine, I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. A groan leaves my mouth when his hands begin to travel up my shirt.

Having office sex isn’t something that we’re new to or shy to. For someone who’s the boss of the company, it was more surprising that Jongdae was the one the initiated it, to begin with. Another reason I don’t fully see him as the CEO of a huge company.

Our steamy session is interrupted by his phone ringing. We both sigh as the fire within us is put out by the fact that he has to go back to work.

Clearing his throat, Jongdae presses the speaker button to hear his secretary, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Kim….Y/N.”

“It’s okay. Go ahead.” I say.

“Mr. Kim, your one o’clock appointment has arrived.”

Jongdae’s expression changes into a serious one as he fixes himself up, “Give me a minute.”

He turns to me with a disappointed look as I straighten his tie for him, “I know.” I say.

There’s not much to say in times like these. This is his work and as much as it pains me to be away from him, I have to let him go do what he needs to.

Jongdae walks me to the door, he insisted on walking me out of the building but his meeting is more important so I end up leaving him in his office. Closing the door behind me, I head towards the elevator.

I reach around the corner when a woman catches my attention along with a lot of other male employees’ attention as well. She’s extremely beautiful especially with the skin-tight dress she’s wearing and black red bottom heels. As we pass each other, she gives me a small grin to greet me which I return with an awkward one. I’ve never seen her around. I wonder if she’s new.

Whoever she is, she’s entering Jongdae’s office. That’s his one o’clock appointment?! The curiosity kills me as I head over towards Jongdae’s secretary’s desk to see what I can find out about this woman.

“Hey, Y/N.” She greets me.

“Hey, how're the kids?” I ask.

She smiles, “Great, my oldest is graduating elementary school next month.”

“Really? It feels like yesterday you told me he was scared of going into kindergarten.” Jongdae’s secretary has always been nice to me and she’s like my ears in the office if something happens that Jongdae doesn’t want to tell me.

She frowns, “I know. I can’t stop them though.” Sighing, she adds, “I’m sorry again for interrupting, I know that it’s hard to spend time with Mr. Kim.”

I shrug, “It’s okay. I’m sure once this deal goes through he’ll have a whole lot of time to make it up to me.”

“That’s the way to do it. From the looks of things, the whole thing should be done and decided pretty soon. That woman that just came in is the head of the company that’s negotiating with Mr. Kim.”

I act surprised as if I didn’t pay that much attention to the woman, “Really? She looks pretty young, is she the boss’s daughter?” I ask.

“No, and it’s strange, no one knows a whole lot about her. The CEO of the opposing company used to speak to Mr. Kim on the phone about business but then she showed up suddenly to take over the negotiations in person.”

I hum in fascination, “Things must be getting serious then if they’re bringing someone to talk to him face-to-face.”

She nods, “They’re having another meeting later tonight to see if Mr. Kim can seal the deal quickly.”

He’s meeting her tonight? He told me that he was going to have a meeting with the guys and if he began honestly then she must be included in it as well. What if he told me that so I wouldn’t get jealous over the fact that he was going to have a meeting with a woman like that.

“I wouldn’t worry.” I get interrupted by a reassurance, “Mr. Kim is extremely loyal. Plus, in all the years I’ve known him, you’re the only woman I’ve seen him actually look at with loving eyes and not business eyes.”

“Thanks.”

Call it human nature, but I couldn’t rest easy knowing Jongdae was gonna be near a woman like that. I trust Jongdae but I don’t know her. It’s like taking your dog to the park, you know what your dog will do but you don’t know what dogs will do.

Waiting outside the office, I spot Jongdae and the woman leaving the building and entering his car. I follow, at a safe distance, behind them until they reach somewhat of a high-end club. It wasn’t too difficult to get past the bouncer since he was only allowing women of a certain stature to enter. Lucky for me, I fit his interest.

Being as inconspicuous as I could, I roam around the crowded areas around them. They stopped by the bar for a few minutes just talking. There were moments where Jongdae would laugh and smile which made me feel extremely uneasy since he’s not usually like that to anyone but me. My mind begins to battle between rationalizing and jealousy. I continue to think maybe he’s being like this because he’s trying to get this business deal settled. The other side of my brain is nagging me that this isn’t how he would go about it if it were a man he was doing business with.

As I begin to argue with myself, Jongdae and the woman are on the move again. They slip through the crowd and head towards upstairs. At the top of the steps, they enter a backroom where that reads VIP.

I sit around for what seems like hours but it was actually fifteen minutes. Most of it is basically me thinking if I should barge in there to confront the situation but then I begin to wonder if it really is something to do with work. I’d feel terrible if I ended up ruin an important business deal. At the same time, the waiting game isn’t working for me.

Going with the jealous thinking I approach the door and nearly start banging on the door but I stop myself. Leaning in, I listen in to hear muffled commotion happening on the other side of the door. Reasoning leaves me as I begin to think the worse is going on in there.

I swing open the door as I barge into the room. My heart goes from beating to a fast rate to a dead stop. Usually, you’d hoped to be wrong in these types of situations but, in my case, I really wished I was right about Jongdae cheating.

The room looks like a massacre had occurred. Blood splatter everywhere along with the bodies they came from. From what I could see there were six of them lying in a different part of the room. My eyes meet the eyes of the men that were standing over them. Their faces were all blur to me at that moment until my gaze meets a set of eyes that I’ve looked at for the past year.

“Jongdae?” I say his name in a barely audible voice.

He’s holding a gun to a woman’s temple. The same woman that he came in with. She’s on her knees in front of Jongdae. A moment later, I begin to realize that the men that are surrounding the room are the same men that work alongside Jongdae. The same ones that attended the restaurant for their meetings. The same men I’ve personally met shortly after dating him.

His eyes changed the instant they found mine. They were cold and unforgiving. A look I’ve never seen on his face before.

“Y/N?” He calls out to me with his sweet voice but he doesn’t look like the same Jongdae that I grew to love. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I…? What are you…?” Before I can even bring myself to speak, I begin to feel lightheaded then the room begins to spin. When I try to turn away to leave, I lose my footing and my brain just shuts down.

The images of what I saw continue to run through my head even in my sleep. The blood, the carnage, and Jongdae in the center of it all. It was a dream. I keep repeating the sentence to myself. It’s not until the image of him with blood on his hand wakes me up from the nightmare.

I sit up breathing heavily from shock. I’m back in my apartment. I don’t remember how I got here and begin to wonder if what I saw last night was actually real or a dream. I have to talk to Jongdae.

I prepare to get out of bed when I see a figure sitting in the chair. It’s Jongdae. When did he get here? Does that mean that what I saw last night was real?

“Are you feeling better?” He asks with his eyelids still closed.

He opens his eyes to look at me as I answer, “What happened last night, Jongdae? What did I walk into?”

Leaning forward, he rises from the chair to sit on the edge of my bed, “Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you.”

I shake my head, “Please tell me what I saw was a dream and it didn’t happen?”

He sighs, “I wish I could. Believe me, I didn’t want you to see that side of me.”

Tears begin to fill my eyes as I ask the gut-wrenching question, “Who are you?”

Jongdae looks around before finally looking me in the eyes to tell me the truth, “To the business world, I am CEO Kim Jongdae. To the guys and the underground world, I am EXO’s mafia leader, Chen.”

Mafia leader? How could someone like him be associated with the mafia? He’s the CEO of a damn company. How is it possible for someone to do both like this?

He continues, “I’m not the bad guy. The woman you saw last night, she was an undercover assassin. She was sent by a rival company to take me out but I found out who she was before that could happen. The club we went to, I own it. I brought her there to trap her, along with her accomplices but it ended up getting messy.”

“W-what happened to that woman? Is she…?” I barely have the strength to finish that sentence. Jongdae doesn’t look at me as he nods his head.

She was dead, along with all those people I saw in that room. Suddenly, the large knot that had been tightening in my stomach begins to rise up my throat. Feeling the sickens coming up, I push past Jongdae to get to the bathroom where I barely make it into the toilet.

Jongdae is instantly by my side as he held my hair and patting my back. Feeling how gentle his touch is, conflicts with my feelings about him after what I saw last night. He helps me stand before going to the sink to rinse my mouth out.

“Y/N,” he reaches for my hand but I instantly pull away.

“Don’t touch me!” I give him a shove to put some distance between us. I can barely think with him in front of me. If he were to touch me again, I would become so confused again.

“I swear, I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to expose you this lifestyle. Every time I wanted to say something about it, you would give me that innocent smile and the courage I’d built to would instantly go away.”

“Then why didn’t you just break up with me? It would’ve been less painful for both of us.” I say through sobs.

His face turns into a pained expression, “I was already in too deep. I fell in love with you.”

“Damn it, Jongdae!” I shout at him, “Why couldn’t you just cheat on me like a normal person? But instead, you’re a fucking mafia leader. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Don’t say that. I’m the same person you met in that restaurant a year ago. My occupation doesn’t change that.”

“How doesn’t it? You’ve killed people.”

Hyperventilation begins to set in as I lose strength in my legs. Jongdae catches me before I hit the ground. With little effort, he carries me to the bed. I begin to sob in his chest uncontrollably. He shushes me as he pulls the covers over me.

Eventually, I fell asleep in his arms. Letting all the tears out, made me tired. When I woke again, Jongdae was gone. I only remember what he whispered to me before giving me a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you so much. Whenever you’re ready I’ll wait.” Then he left.

I went on about my life as normal. Jongdae came by my apartment to talk but I didn’t let him in. I wasn’t ready. He knocked on the door a few time before leaving. He has a key to my apartment but he said he wouldn’t use it unless I said otherwise and he never did.

I didn’t see or hear from him for a few days after that. I couldn’t keep my decisions straight in my mind. One day I’d want to break it off and the next I’d want to talk to him to know more but both choices I end up chickening out with my choice. When I didn’t think about the fact that he was a mafia leader, I would say yes to staying with him. The images of what happened in that club continued to give me nightmares.

Eventually, I came to a decision. I would leave him. Things would only get worse for us if we continued to see each other. Our lives were easier before we met. He wouldn’t have had to hide this and I wouldn’t have had to see what I saw.

Once I called and told him about my decision, he invited me to meet him at his office after hours. All the employees would be gone, we wouldn’t be interrupted.

Entering his office this time around had a different feeling to it. Especially knowing what I do now. Things seem to have a different vibe from what I was used to. Everything has changed since the truth came out.

Seeing him at his desk makes me wonder if all those time I came in to see him, was he working on mafia plans. The thoughts are nonstop.

“Have you been well?” He asks leaning against his desk.

I cross my arms, “I mean I’ve been better but I’ll live.” I look him up and down to notice the dark circles like he hasn’t been sleeping. “You look like shit.” Has this really affected him that much?

He shrugs, “I’ve been worried about you since we parted ways. I didn’t want this to harshly affect your life as it has and for that I’m sorry.”

I scoff, “I thought apologies weren’t your thing?”

He smirks, “When it comes to you, I’ll apologies nonstop.”

“How about you tell me the whole truth instead,” I say.

“Fair enough. A long time ago, I had nothing to my name. When I created EXO, it’s what helped start up my business. In a way, EXO’s money was what was invested in the company. I’m living a double life as a CEO and a mafia leader.”

I take a huge breath, “I just don’t know how to feel about all this. Everything just makes me wonder if all the things I thought you were doing was actually work-related. How many times did you tell me that you were out doing business and it was actually gang-related?”

“Would you feel better if I did tell you what was work and what was mafia work?” He says so straightforward.

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know if I could handle it.”

He slowly approaches me as if I would run away in fear. I hold my ground up until his chest is just inches away and I can smell his cologne. His hands reach for mine and out of instinct I raise them for him to take.

“I know you can. You’re as tough as they come. I knew that since day one when I met you. The way you assertively proved me wrong, I knew that there was something about you that was addicting.” He continues, “I fought with myself for days after you left my office on whether or not to pursue you but when I saw that prick attack you, I couldn’t control myself. I wanted to kill him but I couldn’t do that in front of you.”

“You could’ve stopped right after that. Why did you continue?” I ask.

He looks at me with those familiar loving eyes, “I wanted to be the one for you. The one to comfort you, to care for you, to love you.”

I fight the tears that threaten to come out as I start to speak, “When we first started dating, I had trouble accepting the fact that we were from different social classes. I always felt that I wasn’t good enough to be with you. I was prepared to be with you as a CEO. Knowing that you’re a mafia leader, scares me because that’s a whole different side of you that I have to introduce myself to and the first time was hard enough.”

“I understand that you’ve gone through a lot and I’ve loved you more and more because of how well you’ve endured it. I promise to inform you about everything so you’re never left out of the loop again. I will make you a part of my life.”

I can’t help but smile at how open and willing he is to keep me in his life, “As welcoming as that is… that’s a piece of your life that I can’t be a part of. I can’t live with the fear of something happening to you when we aren’t together. There’s only so much I can endure.” I say slowly sliding my hands out of his grasp.

“Y/N...” He calls my name through a harsh exhale.

“Goodbye Jongdae.”

Leaving him after seeing the pain on his face made it twice as hard. This was the hardest decision I’ve had to make.

I wait for the elevator when tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I didn’t want to say goodbye. To be honest, I’m more than willing to be with Jongdae even with the mafia world being a part of him. My only concerns are being in the way of his lifestyle. I would only make it difficult for him to work. It’s easier for him to not have someone like me holding him down.

Once the elevator doors open, I quickly wipe away the streams on my cheeks. When I look up, a man is exiting the elevator. He walks past me so fast I barely get a look at his face. Watching his back, he ends up entering Jongdae’s office.

I shrug it off. He might have another meeting to deal with as Chen. I enter the elevator and press the lobby floor button. Just as the doors are about to close, I hear a loud crash coming from Jongdae’s office. Instinct takes over when I stop the doors from closing and race towards where the noise had come from.

Entering the office, I find the mysterious man pressing Jongdae over his deck. His hands around his neck trying to strangle him. Hearing the pain he was in, I pounce on the man. I jump on the man’s back and try to pull him off Jongdae. To no avail, the man shoves me off him causing me to fall on the floor.

I get back to my feet to grab the desk lamp. I start swinging it at the man like a baseball bat. It didn’t do a lot but anger the man. He did end up releasing Jongdae to focus his attention on me. He snatches the lamp out of my hand and tosses it across the room. He ends up punching me so hard that it knocks me off my feet and has me in a daze.

I attempt to get to my feet but the man grabs a handful of my hair to pull me to my knees. I scream in pain as he starts dragging me across the room. He suddenly releases me. I look up to find that Jongdae tackled the man to the ground.

“Y/N!” He shouts for me over his shoulder, “Get out of here!”

He pulls out his gun from the back of his waistband but the man knocks it out of his hand while struggling for it causing it to slide under Jongdae’s desk.

Suddenly, the man manages to get on top of Jongdae. While fighting him off, the man reaches for something at his ankle. It’s not until he raises it up that I see that it’s a knife. He thrusts it straight down towards Jongdae’s chest but manages to grab ahold of the man’s wrists.

Seeing the struggle, I get to my feet to immediately jump on the man’s back to pull him off Jongdae. The man rises to his feet which is when he grabs my hair along with the nape of my neck to control where my body moves. He pulls me to face him then pushes me against Jongdae’s desk. The knife in his hand begins to point towards me.

Instinctively, I turn my back to brace myself for the knife impaling me. All of a sudden, I feel warmth envelop me. Looking over my shoulder is Jongdae. So close to me that I can hear the groan he was keeping in his throat. The man pulls the knife out of Jongdae’s side.

“Jongdae?”

He begins to collapse. Still holding me, the weight of his body takes me down to the floor with him. Again, he takes more of the hit of the ground as he continues to protect me. In my view of the ground, I stop the gun from under the desk. Stretching for my life, I barely manage to get my hands on it. The man pulls Jongdae away from me to finish the job. I’ve never fired a gun before but there’s no better time to learn. I turn onto my back to aim the gun at the man’s head and, with no hesitation, pull the trigger.

The man’s body collapses on the ground as I stay frozen from the fact that I just killed someone. My hand shakes, still holding the gun.

“Y/N!” Jongdae shakes my shoulders but I barely understand what he’s saying after that. “Y/N, look at me.” He takes the gun out my hand and pulls my face to look at his. “Are you hurt?”

When I hear the word hurt, I automatically look down at the stab wound that was drenched in blood. His face has gone pale along with sweat beading around his forehead.

“How can you be asking me that when you're bleeding out?” I say placing my hands over the wound to stop the bleeding.

He groans in pain as I press hard, “I’m fine, this isn’t new to me. As long as you’re okay...” He chuckles but his face loosens up as he collapses at my side.

“Jongdae!”

Within seconds, the familiar faces of Jongdae’s group came. They heard about the assassination attempt from a source and came as fast as they could. They took care of the body and took Jongdae to their private doctor. I had numerous opportunities to walk away since Jongdae was getting treatment and he was stable, but for some reason, I couldn’t leave. I love him too much to walk away from him in his time of need.

Once I was finally able to see him after getting patched up, I sat at his bedside. I honestly never thought I’d come back to his penthouse after everything. I hold his hand making sure to feel his warmth.

“You know,” I hear Junmyeon’s voice come from the doorway, “he’d understand if you weren’t here when he woke up. He’d respect your decision, no matter what it was.”

Not taking my eyes off Jongdae, I respond, “I know.”

As the day passes, I’m left alone with Jongdae as the rest of EXO are working hard to keep the business intact while Jongdae is recovering. I never leave his side, especially to go to bed. Instead, I lie in bed with him to keep him company. I want him to know that he’s not alone.

I lie on my side, looking at Jongdae’s profile. My head begins to get heavy as I lean on my hand, trying to keep myself awake.

I rest my eyes for a second when I begin to hear Jongdae’s voice, “I don’t recall ever having you pass out on me like this.”

Snapping my eyes open, Jongdae’s eyes are gazing down at me. I attempt to sit up but Jongdae places his palm on my shoulder to keep me lying down.

“Jongdae-”

He shushes me, “You looks exhausted. Just sleep.” He begins stroking my hair which lulls me to a long-needed slumber.

When I woke up he was asleep again. I started to believe that maybe I was dreaming about the whole thing until he wakes up again.

I finish switching out his sheets since the last ones had blood on them. As I’m raising the blanket up to his chest, he grabs a hold of my wrist.

I find his gaze on me again, “You shouldn’t be here. You should go home.” He whispers.

I smirk, “You should know you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Apparently I don’t. If I remember correctly, you were leaving me for good.” Even though he wasn’t exactly asking me, he wanted to know why I came back.

“That would’ve been the smart thing to do, in my case, and you know how intelligent of a woman I am, but the truth is I’m more of a fool than you think.” I take his hand away from my wrist and squeeze it tight.

Staring at me, he sighs, “You shouldn’t have seen any of that. You could’ve gotten hurt. You should’ve just kept walking.”

“How could I? Knowing that you were in trouble? You could’ve been killed. I couldn’t just walk away when you were in danger like that.”

He smirks, “It’s not my first close call. I can assure you it won’t be the last. I’d rather it not be a similar situation for you. You at least look unharmed from the attack.”

“Is that what you think?” Suddenly, the tears that I’d been holding back are coming to the surface. “However it may look, I am hurt. My heart hurt seeing you bleeding out in front of me. It also hurt to force myself to break up with you.”

His eyebrows go up, “What was that last part?”

I wipe the moisture from my chin, “You heard me. I wasn’t scared because you were a mafia leader. I was scared of holding you back even more. You’re in charge of everything. I’m just a regular girl living from paycheck to paycheck. Our lifestyles are completely different, even more than I thought before.”

Gripping my hand, he pulls me into the bed. His arms hold me against his body, “You’ve never held me back.” Kissing my temple, he adds, “Not once. To be honest, I’ve felt better with you by my side. Before you, I was beginning to lose interest in doing everything. When you came into the picture, everything had more meaning knowing that I would see you at the end of the day. The things I do makes a difference for the city.”

“This might sound crazy but I don’t care what you do anymore. Everything that I wanted to do to stay away from you just hurt my heart too much. When I realized someone was trying to kill you, I couldn’t idly stand by and let it happen.”

“If you truly can’t stay away from me, then don’t go anywhere. I’ll take care of you. You’ll never have to worry about anything else as long as you’re with me. Move-in and stay with me.” Each time he finished a sentence, his hold on me grew tighter and I knew that he means every word.

I return his gesture by hugging him just as tight, “I should’ve known something was up with you. You were too perfect.”

Thinking back that day, I knew that things would change. I never thought about if it were gonna be for the better or not but I wanted it to come. It was like eating junk food, you know it’s not necessarily good for you but you couldn’t help to have some of it.

“Mrs. Kim?” I turn to face the familiar voice of Jongdae’s right-hand man.

I smirk at him, “Suho, how many times have I told you to just call me Y/N?”

He nods, “About a million times since you got married but if I were to get used to it then Chen would get jealous about it.”

I shrug, not wanting to push it again. “Fine, what is it?”

“Your 4:00 meeting is here.” He informs me.

“Ah please tell me there’s good news this time so I can at least go in with a smile on my face.” I raise my eyebrows to verify it but to my disappointment, he sighs, averting my gaze.

I clear my throat to hide the irritability I was beginning to feel, “Is Jongdae joining us?” I ask.

He points over his shoulder to respond, “He’s waiting for you.”

I rub my hands together before walking past him to exit the room, “Let’s get our hands dirty today then.”

After marrying Jongdae, it didn’t take long for me to start my own empire of business. It didn’t take long for me to understand how the underground worked. Jongdae taught me everything and I was quick to pick up a few things on my own.

Every now and again, I think about how I’ve come to this position. Is situations like this, you would ask yourself if given a do-over would I have made the same choice. The answer is easy. I was going nowhere in my life before Jongdae. If we hadn’t fallen for each other, I’d still be struggling to get by on my own. The truth is, in this world, to survive, you either adapt or perish.

I chose to adapt.