#id use my nicest buttons | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bnhabadass · 3 years ago

Text

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?” Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mob boss bakugou!!!#mafia au #mha mafia au #bnha bakugo #bnharem #bnharem collab #tw: dubcon #tw: alcohol #tw: overdose

1K notes · View notes

tonnerredebrest · 2 years ago

Note

I don't know who it going to be about, but sugar daddy au; however, instead on the usual thing, it's just them wanting to cuddle, and other domestic things.

just finished it! here you go anon <3

AO3 link at the bottom

Sweeter than honey, more saccharine than sugar

"You're sure this is a good idea?" asked Lando, thumb hoovering the download button.

"Yeah, don't worry," replied Max, totally relaxed. "I've used it plenty of times when money fell short. The payments were always on time, and everything is secure and anonymous. You can even choose to not show your face!"

"If you say so..." The Brit shrugged.

He thought about it for a few more seconds. What he was about to do was going to change his life, and he didn't know if it was going to be for the better. Yet, he really needed that money. Looking back at Max, the latter just shoot him a reassuring smile.

Well, Lando thought, maybe they won't be half bad.

His thumb finally pressed "download," and a notification popped on his screen:

"Thank you for downloading 'sugar adventures'! We hope you will find your new sugar baby or sugar parent with us!"

~~~

A month passed, and Lando still hadn't found any suitable sugar daddies or mums. They were either too creepy, either asked for feet picks, or straight up not responding after Lando had answered them. It was frustrating, as the Brit knew he was cute and thought we would find someone quickly. It was also calming, in a sense, as he felt very nervous about * really * having a sugar parent.

Then, on a fateful Saturday afternoon, his phone chimed. From the sound, Lando knew it was 'Sugar Adventures'. He sighed expecting yet another octogenarian asking to see his toes. Yet, when he opened the app, he fell on his butt, almost literally.

The guy who was contacting him wasn't old, heck, he was probably not even 35 years old! He was also stunning, an absolute marvel of a man. Lando could only describe him as an

Iberian Disney Prince. His hair was perfect on every picture of his profile, his smile could make even the more morose person blush in delight.

"Carlos", his profile read." 30 years Old, in search of a good and sweet time."

Lando was in awe. He had never seen such a young sugar daddy. Yeah, some were at the end of their thirties/ beginning of their four ties, but plain out 30? Unheard of. And why would a young guy be on the search for a sugar baby? Carlos was so hot he could probably pull anyone he wanted, anyone.

"Good morning Lando," the message read. "Would you like to go eat dinner with me? Of course, if it doesn't work for you, we can also just grab a coffee."

It was the nicest message Lando ever got on that God-forsaken app. He was absolutely gobsmacked. An attractive and polite guy? That seemed too good to be true. So Lando did what he always did when he was in doubt: he called Max.

~~~

"This is Max Verstappen, if you aren't my dad, leave a message, if you are:'Rot op!'"

Lando sight. He had called the muppet three times, and he hadn't answered. The Brit was ready to give up, but finally, the Dutchman called him back.

"Hey, Lando! How are you mate?" He sounded happy, as if he hadn't even seen the missed calls.

"I got a proposition." Lando was biting his bottom lip, as he always did when he was nervous.

"That's nice, do you consider accepting it?"

"Well, the guy's 30."

"30! What the hell," Max sounded as surprised as Lando.

"And he wants to buy me dinner or coffee."

"What? Fuck Lando, that's too good to be true. Are you sure this guy's real?"

"Well, you do have to use an ID to get on the app," Lando's voice was filled with irony, it was Max who introduced him to the app, yet he seems to know less than the Brit.

"Fuck me, you have to meet him up then."

"But what if it's just a gang of people waiting to get me roughened up?"

Max thought for a second.

"Ask him a pic of him holding something random, like a chair or a pan."

"That won't solve the gang problem."

”I can go with you, in incognito mode?"

"That'll be great," Lando sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"Thank me after you've banged that guy."

And Max hung up, leaving Lando done with his thoughts.

~~~

Lando had accepted a coffee. Carlos had messaged him an address. It was a regular independent coffee shop, in the city centre. Lando had been there before, but he couldn't get over the fact that a single latte cost 12$. Carlos had said he'll pay for everything, but the Brit was still sceptical.

They agreed to meet up at 5 pm, but Lando was there fifteen minutes earlier. Max was also present, to make sure Lando wasn't getting jumped. Carlos had sent a picture of him holding a pan, but you never know. Lando's best friend was disguised, drinking a coffee and working on his laptop. The Brit was himself at a table, sipping on water. Everything else was too expensive for him. He was broke, remember?

At 5 o'clock sharp, a tall businessman entered. It was Carlos. He searched for Lando in the room. The Brit waved at him, and the Spaniard's face illuminated when he spotted him. He was dressed in a grey suit, seeming a little out of place in the casual coffee shop. It did contrast a lot with Lando's comfortable oversized hoodie and jeans.

"Hello," the Spaniard said, extending his hand. "I'm Carlos Sainz Junior, nice finally meeting you in person, Lando. I swear you are prettier in a sweatshirt than on your profile pictures."

His devilish smirk made the Brit redden, and the compliment didn't help better his condition. He did shake Carlos' hand, trying to have a firm grip.

" Hi, nice to finally meet you too," he fumbled, still a little proud we managed to put a coherent sentence together.

"So, have you already ordered?" His date? soon-to-be sugar daddy? asked, looking at the blackboards describing the distant coffee options.

"I just took a water," the Brit shrugged.

"You waited along for me?" In front of his non-answer, Carlos smiled. "That's cute, don't worry."

Lando blushed again, slightly damning his too-open face under his breath.

"What do you usually take?" Carlos asked, already going to order.

"Erm," he didn't go to such venues frequently, and if he did, he took the cheapest option (so, water). "Something sweet, I guess?"

"I see," the Spaniard sweetly smiled.

He left, and Lando took the opportunity to look at Max. The latter was still fake working, carefully watching them. The Brit send him a thumbs up, and Max smiled. Carlos came back, hands empty as the barista was still preparing their drinks.

"What did you order for me?"Lando asked.

"It's a surprise," Carlos winked back.

It did make the Brit blush and search for his words.

"Carlos and Lando?" A barista shouted, not giving the Brit a chance to reply.

The Spaniard smiled again, before getting up to get their inks. He came back with a classical-looking coffee, in a classical little coffee Cup, and another, bigger beverage. It had creme on top, so Lando couldn't see what was inside, but it was definitely more than what Carlos

ordered for himself.

"You'll like it, I promise," the older man added in front of Lando's hesitation. "I had it before, and it tasted very well."

The Brit was still a little suspicious of the hot beverage in front of him, but he did take a trying sip. It was sweet, very sweet, but it also had that little bitter taste of coffee. The creme on top of the drink was particularly good too.

"This is so good!" He exclaimed, while licking away the creme on his lips. "How is it called?"

"It's their speciality. I believe it is named 'Sweet Dreams", "Carlos replied, smiling with all his teeth.

Lando was too busy drinking to do anything else than nod. that beverage must have cost so much, he would never have the idea to buy it in normal conditions. Now that such coffee was graciously offered to him, he will make sure that not a drop would go to waste.

"So," the Brit asked, once he had finished almost half of his cap. "What do you do for a living?"

Carlos smiled, before getting closer to him. "You have something on the corner of your mouth," the older man said, putting his hand forward.

With his thumb, he carefully whipped away a little spot of leftover creme. Lando blushed again, and almost chucked when Carlos decided the best way to clean his finger was by licking it. The culprit only smirked, apparently not caring about Lando's poor heart.

"I... erm..."

It seemed that the precedent broke Lando's brain, as he was unable to have one (1) coherent thought. All he could think about was how good those hands would feel on him, how good that thumb would...

"Are you ok?" Carlos asked, seemingly married. "Did I overstep a boundary? was that too much?"

"No, no, no." Lando quickly came back to his senses. "You did nothing I was uncomfortable with. I was just surprised, that's all."

"pleasantly surprised I hope," the older man replied, his brows still a little frowned.

The Brit gently put his hand on one of Carlos, looking straight into his eyes, before speaking:

"If you ever do something I don't want on like, I'll tell you straight away."

It seemed to put the Spaniard's mind at ease, as the conversation effortlessly came back. Lando smiled at himself, wondering how the hell he managed to find such a man.

~~~

Lando was nervous as he got in front of a very luxurious building. He checked the address again. Yep, it was defined by that one. He was expected at four pm. It was indeed 4 pm. Lando looked at the subway station nearby, then back at the entrance. If he didn't want to be late, he had to move, now.

With a big sight, to evacuate the stress, Lando pushed the door, going in. As in all very, very expensive apartment buildings, an actual person was standing at the reception, dressed up to their nines. Lando got nervous again, but he had to talk to them if he wanted to pass.

"He- hello," he said, attracting their attention to him. "I'm Lando Norris, and Carlos Sainz is expecting me?" He tried his hardest to sound confident, but his voice betrayed him.

"Good afternoon Mr Norris," the receptionist replied, their tone kind and gentle." Mr Sainz does expect you. You are right on time. Please head to the elevator, I will make you arrive at the penthouse safely."

"Thank you," this time Lando didn't fumble, and he was proud of himself.

He did run towards the elevator, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. The entrance alone was too elegant and opulent for him, making him feel out of place. Even the elevator cage looked fancy as fuck. it indeed was too much for him.

It took only a swift ten seconds to reach the top, where the doors opened to a very minimalist entrance. Lando stepped out, and was immediately greeted by Carlos. The Penthouse was huge, as in crazy rich huge. It reminded Lando from Charles’ Monégasque flat, Charles being Max’s crazy Formula 1 boyfriend. But let’s get back to Lando.

He was standing in the living room which was half as big as his own flat. Looking up, the Brit could see some kind of modern chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Which billionaire’s son needed to go on a super baby app to get laid when he had, apparently, so much money?

“Some tea?“ Carlos offered, coming back from the kitchen, where he had quickly fled after letting Lando in.

The latter being thoroughly a Brit, even if his mum was Belgian, accepted the steaming hot cup. It seemed to be some kind of infusion, not really a tea, but he didn’t mind. Anything was good to avoid looking at the beautiful man, who was very much eyeing up Lando. The latter reddened under the insistent gaze, and tried to hide behind that mug.

“Oh no, Lando,“ Carlos came closer, his stare not so hungry anymore. “Please don’t hide from me.“

The Brit gathered his courage, and dare to look up. Carlos was much closer than anticipated, Lando almost stepped back in surprise. Yet, he didn’t, instead, he let himself fall into the chestnut eyes in front of him. Slowly, he felt Carlos coming closer and closer, gathering in his personal space. For the first in what seemed to be years, Lando let someone get that close.

Their faces were mere centimetres apart. The Brit just had to slightly move forward for their lips to meet. And that’s exactly what he did.

Closing his eyes, Lando felt two warm hands cupping his face as a warm mouth gently pressed against his. It was sweet, sugary, and saccharine to an excess. Their lips gently moved together, not going further. Lando clung to his tea, not wanting to spill it.

~~~

They met again, and again, and again. They never went further than that, always keeping it innocent, in a sense. Carlos didn’t need someone to test weird kinks on, as Lando found out, but just yearned for the companionship one can get only after years of being in the same relationship. Strangely, they got it after only the third “date“, if a cuddle session at the penthouse can be considered such.

Lando liked it, maybe too much. He was getting paid to spend with someone he genuinely cared about and cherished. Yet, he worried about Carlos. The latter seemed more and more stressed, and ways making him come late at night, and leave early in the morning. If this was a normal relationship, Lando would have put a stop to it, but this wasn’t one. So he waited for Carlos to spill it out, if he ever wanted to.

One night, Lando went up the lift at nearly ten. Carlos had texted him urgently, wanting him to come as quick as possible. Of course, the Brit had obliged and gladly went there. As the door opened to the luxurious apartment, he heard a glass be broken.

Lando rushed towards the source. It seemed to come from the living room.

“Carlos?“ He asked. “Are you OK?“

As he get in front of the couch, he saw the man of his dreams crying, a spilt glass of wine on the ground.

“Carlos?“

Lando got closer, seated near the businessman. He carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pushing him closer.

“I shouldn’t have Lando,“ the Spaniard mumbles, words barely understandable. “I shouldn’t have forced you to do this, do all this.“

“But you didn’t force me to do anything,“ the Brit calmly says, his tone sweet and comforting. “I would have said if you forced me to do anything.“

That didn’t seem to calm Carlos, tears still falling from his eyes. It wrecked Lando’s heart to see him like that. The Brit cupped his sugar daddy’s face, making him look at him. His once chestnut eyes were watery, puffy and red. It looked like he had been crying for a long time. Lando’s heart broke once again.

“Carlos…“ He murmured, bringing their forehead together. “You didn’t do anything I didn’t like, sweetheart.“

It’s the first time the Brit used such an endearment, but he just couldn’t help it. It seemed to have reassured his sad Spaniard, as his tears weren’t wetting Lando’s hands anymore. The latter looked at him again, and couldn’t help but kiss him.

Carlos’ lips were wet, Lando’s too dry, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect for them, perfect given the circumstances.

Surprisingly, it’s the Spaniard who put an end to it.

“I- I can’t do it anymore, Lando,“ his voice was as broken as before, and he refused to look at his sugar baby.

It left the latter very confused.

“What, what do you mean?“

“I love you, Lando, I cannot pretend otherwise. It’s been killing me, and there’s nothing I can do about it because you don’t love me back.“

The Brit is taken aback. Carlos? The filthy rich, sweeter than honey, more gently than a teddy bear, loves him? Him? The broke college student trying to get his engineering degree? Had he fallen on his head and died?

Yet, the man in front of him was very real, and on the edge of tearing up again.

“Please, Lando. Say anything…“ Carlos begged him, his voice cracking at the end.

It was Lando’s final straw. His eyes watered, he was tearing up too. His vision became blurry, but he still manages to find Carlos’ hands, and hold on to them tight.

“Of course, I love you, you muppet,“ he answered going out of his shock. “How could I not?“

Their lips met again, and this time, they were both crying, crying of happiness. Lando’s stomach did somersaults as their tongues connected, for the first time in months. He sighed in the kiss, trying to not laugh hysterically.

He loved his sugar daddy, and his sugar daddy loved him.

~~~

#fanfic #formula 1 #formula one #ao3 works #f1 #carlando #lando norris #carlos sainz junior

8 notes · View notes

dykecolumbo · 2 years ago

Note

finally sending you this :) also how was your day today <33

baby - what makes you feel better when you’re down?

sugarpie - what’s your favourite sweet treat?

darling - what romantic gesture makes you feel the most loved?

button - do you have a type? what is it like?

sunshine - what’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever gotten?

baby girl - how do you like to be held?

lover - how do you show someone you like them?

buttercup - what does/would your online dating bio say?

boo - what’s your dream date?

wild thing - what’s something about you that surprises people?

bubba - tell me a funny story from your childhood.

honey - what’s your favourite hot drink? (I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF YOU SAY PINEAPPLE FANTA BUT MICROWAVED-)

my love - what would your dream home be like?

(i started answering this when i first got it like. 3 or more months ago. i just finished it now it's been in my drafts forever im SORRY I LIVE IN SHAME)

my day was goood i played an absurd amount of solitaire and thought about ripping my business law teacher apart with my teeth

baby- i go for a lot of walks and bike rides. sometimes i'll bike out to one of the many playgrounds near my house and chill on the swingset

sugarpie- im a total gummy bear pilled gummy bearcel. i love gummy bears so fucking much

darling- oh god idk. im classy at heart. id love to be wined and dined. never have been thought so i can't say it makes me feel the most loved. i rlly don't know

button- mmmm not really? not at all actually. if i like you i like you and if i don't i dont

sunshine- is it bad nothings coming to mind??? not in like a "everyone is so mean 2 me" way just like... idk. im very average. ig i like it when people tell me i'm funny

babygirl- dude i do not know. im awful at like... cuddling bc i just cannot sit still for the LIFE of me. ig just hug me idfk

lover- uhhh kiss them on the lips repeatedly "but in a friend way" which is tbh how it normally starts but whatevs

buttercup- uhhhhh god i don't know. "in need of a lobotomy but my head's still ok" or some dumb bullshit like that

boo- wined. dined. sixty nined is preferred but not a must

wild thing- when i was at work because my hair is technically past my jawline i had to have it tied up all the time when i was working with food, but the one, SINGULAR time i was doing something other than food i got to have it down and i got to show of my huge ass curly ass hair. ik this is boring but so am i! one of my many charms

bubba- my gramps used to live in this apartment building down in florida, and my mom and i went to visit him one year, right? so my grandpa had just moved into this building and little 5 year old me really wanted to be shown around. i don't know why because it's not like we could go into any apartments other than his, so we just walked down 5 identical hallways on 5 identical floors. but i really wanted a tour, so he showed me around while my mom stayed behind in his place. now my grandpa lived at the FIRST DOOR on the SECOND FLOOR. so my gramps and i get to the FIRST DOOR on the FIRST FLOOR, and because all the floors looked identical, my goldfish memory was like "my mom is in there!" and i put my face up against the window and yell cus i wanted to surprise her. i did not surprise my mom. who i DID surprise was a woman in just her bra and underwear watching blue bloods, who jumped out of her seat and screamed at the 5 year old staring through her window, which scared ME and i cried the rest of the evening. fin

honey- NO ONE MICROWAVES FANTA?????? i like peach oolong tea

my love- im flexible. log cabin in oklahoma works just as fine as a studio works just as fine as townhouse as long as that bitch isn't minimalist, and near civilization i will be CONTENT. im not an off the grid type of gal i need to be near people and places

3 notes · View notes

writersrealmbts · 3 years ago

Text

If You Have Half a Brain

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

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

Posted: 06/04/2021

Tags: Hoseok x reader, business au,

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

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

“Sir, you ordered a virgin.”

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

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

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

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

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

You sighed. “We don’t stock rum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ew.”

“Coconut ice cream?”

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

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

“Excuse me?”

“Come work for me.”

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

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

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

He grinned. “Not intentionally.”

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

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

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

“N-not particularly.”

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

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

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

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

You took the card warily.

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you often hire your waitresses?”

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

“Your best people?”

“You’ve heard of my company?”

“Who hasn’t?”

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

You paused. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“So, scandal prone.”

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

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

“Actually—“

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

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

“To start...how about $16 an hour?”

You stared at him. “$16 an hour?”

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

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

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

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

“Tomorrow, 8 a.m.”

You nodded. “Business dress?”

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on in, y/n!”

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

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

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

“Do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know this is crazy, right?”

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

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

“You don’t dress much like a CEO.”

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

You shook your head a bit.

“This will be your office.”

“It’s right next to yours.”

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

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

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

“I have a balcony,” you breathed.

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

“Like in hotels.”

“Yes.”

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

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

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

He paused. “Oh. Yes.”

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

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

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

“This way.”

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

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

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

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

You shook your head. “Right.”

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

“What is it in winter? Eggnog?”

He shook his head. “Cinnamon rolls.”

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

Hoseok shrugged.

You sighed. “Alright. Where to now?”

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

“Or you could just not ask it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your inner circle aren’t honest?”

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

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

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“Girlfriend or boyfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he…did he really…?”

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

“That’s terrible.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t sound so heartbroken.”

You shrugged. “Life goes on.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

He froze a bit. “Really?”

“Really.”

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

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

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

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

He gasped. “Their chocolate muffins are amazing.”

“Do you want me to pretend?”

He considered it a moment.

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

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

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

You nodded sharply.

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

You shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat.”

He bounced a bit as he raced out.

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

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

Hoseok nodded. “I guess so.”

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

He shook his head. “No. It doesn’t.”

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

Then several men arrived at about the same time.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why a muffin for y/n?”

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

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

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

They all seemed to be surprised and yet also guilty.

“Well….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes widened and he spluttered. “Water?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am?”

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

“Uh oh. Firing anyone?”

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

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

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

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

“Did you just call me a lady?”

“Have you seen yourself?” Jimin shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try these.”

You looked at them, a little concerned.

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

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

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

You stared at him. “Did you sleep with this girl?”

He turned back to you with a half-smile. “No. I was drunk, but no. My boyfriend at that time wouldn’t have been too thrilled.”

“Do you have baggage about said boyfriend as your friend does about the significant other that he lost?” You asked, studying the impish man in front of you.

Jimin’s smile died a bit. “Told you about that, did he?”

“More or less. Focused more on the ones that survived rather than the one that died. So, baggage: yes or no?”

Jimin came and stood right in front of you, then moved closer, reaching and closing the bathroom door, locking it.

You clenched a fist, just in case.

“Baggage...yes. Same ship. All of us, the whole board, everyone in there. My boyfriend...we were at the point of breaking up anyway, so I feel guilty about that, because he wouldn’t have been there if I had. Hoseok was going to propose. Namjoon’s childhood friend. Yoongi’s girlfriend was paralyzed, and her brain...she only recognizes her family and she’s...not doing well. Two of Taehyung’s friends. Jungkook’s brother. Seokjin’s whole family, except his nephew. He jokes about drinking, but he really just wants to get to the daycare at a decent time. If he knows he has to stay late, he has a babysitter that brings his nephew here. Hoseok feels a lot of responsibility because he was the one who suggested we have a board retreat and invite family and friends. Seokjin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jungkook were all there when it happened. Myself, Yoongi, and Hoseok were delayed because of an emergency on a project we were heading up.”

You nodded slowly. “Got it. So, this company is being run by seven people who have undergone a whole lot of trauma and grief in the past six months. That doesn’t sound at all like a recipe for disaster.” Eight, a little voice whispered, eight if you’re included.

Jimin nodded a bit. “Right. What did you lose in that accident?”

You held his gaze steadily. “The will to please others with false actions and honeyed words.”

Jimin’s head tilted slightly and his eyes narrowed just a bit.

“My older brother worked on that ship, one of the engineers. He’d been filing reports like a good little worker bee about some of the issues they were seeing, but the reports were being ignored. He was threatened, and told to keep quiet if he wanted to keep his job. He told me, I told him to fight, to make sure no one got on that damn ship.”

“But he didn’t,” Jimin whispered, gaze shifting away from you.

“But I gave the people suing that company everything they needed to win their case, especially with HopeWorld providing the financial means for everyone to fight. It was serious neglect on their part, but even I was too pliant to do anything about it. So I’m done. I’m done trying to please others and put up with their crap and if you don’t unlock that door, I’m sorry, but I might punch you.”

He unlocked it. “Right. Sorry.”

“I’ve been dealing with too many thugs from the cruise company. That’s why I was job hunting. That’s why I got that job at the bar. It was a favor that a friend called in from the owner, but they both thought I was a bad fit. I was just desperate. And then Hoseok came in drunk on one glass of wine and complaining about a virgin pina colada.”

“That’s why he wouldn’t stop talking about virgins,” Jimin muttered. “He kept saying something about virgins being confident, and that he wished he was that confident, and that he was joking about not ordering virgins and it was all weird.”

“He should not be allowed to drink.”

“Well, normally he’s a sober and sleepy drunk, so, yesterday was a bit of an outlier. Happiest I’d seen him in a while, though. Especially after he met you.” He was studying you again.

“If you have something to say, then say it. I told you, I’m not waiting around for BS.”

“You’re not like the person he lost, I can tell that right away. But you’re the first person he’s shown...interest in. I guess I’m just curious about what he saw that intrigued him so much.”

“My winning personality and barbed words,” You answered, then grabbed your wallet from your purse and tucked it into your pocket, shoving the purse into the empty drawer that Hoseok had pointed out earlier. “What was the person he lost like?”

“Soft, a little...out-there, artistic, wild dreamer, adventurous, spontaneous,” Jimin listed, then shrugged. “Different.”

You paused to look at Jimin again. “When you said he’s taken an interest in me, did you mean….”

“Possibly romantically. Not definite, but there’s always a few different paths interest in other people can take us, isn’t there. If you’re anything like I’m assuming you are, you’d actually be a good match for him.” Jimin walked out. “Now, come on. We’ve got work to do.”

-----

You were undercover in HopeWorld for a week before you finally were able to return and start moving into your office--having turned in a twenty-page report on your findings while working undercover.

And it was spotlessly clean this time, and there was a computer there. It was even sporting a nice, new plant in the one corner with a card that read it was from all of the other board members.

The winky-face said that Taehyung had been in charge of delivering it and writing the note.

So you set to unpacking the small box of office supplies that you were bringing in.

You were getting a corkboard and a whiteboard later, plus two more chairs so that anyone else in your office could sit down (or you could switch seats through the day if you needed to), and you definitely planned on bringing some more plants here since it got more sunlight than your tiny flat did.

So you unpacked a couple of empty binders, sheafs of paper, a few notebooks, your new pens and pencils, and your pen and pencil holders. You set a photo-frame on your desk. You pulled out a bottle of lotion and put it in one of your desk drawers.

And that’s where you found the photo of Hoseok with the person that had to be his lover.

“Of course,” You murmured, sighing, then you set the photo aside to return to him at your meeting later.

In the past week, you’d gotten a pretty good read on most of the boys, even Yoongi.

But Seokjin was distant, and kept you distant. He didn’t stick around on the days you were in what was technically his department, instead finding an excuse to be elsewhere.

Taehyung and Jimin had both shrugged when you told them that Seokjin was avoiding you.

“Don’t see why he would,” Jimin said, and you knew he was being honest.

It was fine. The boys weren’t your job anyway. Your job was to look at things practically, find problems or potential problems, and present them to people who could fix them. Your job was to question everything so that every eventuality is considered and the best product of the workers' time is produced.

“That’s not a very big box for such a big office.”

You jumped and dropped the stapler, but jumped back so that it wouldn’t staple you on accident (something that had, unfortunately, happened before). “You trying to give me a heart attack?”

Seokjin shrugged, strolling in casually and picking it up. “Not my intention.”

“Then what is your intention?” You asked, wondering what could have brought the illusive man to your office before the morning meeting. According to the others, and your own experiences, he was always just barely on time for the meeting.

He just looked at you carefully. “Can I ask you a question, and get an honest answer?”

“Fire away,” You replied, lifting an eyebrow curiously.

He moved closer so he was looking you in the eye. “Why did you take this job?”

You frowned a bit, stepping back and trying to figure out why he was asking that. But also, how to answer.

“Please answer honestly.”

“Jimin told you about my brother, the cruise ship?”

“Yes. He told all of us, Hoseok too. Hoseok had his suspicions. I don’t think they know that you were on the ship as well.”

You huffed out a laugh and leaned against your desk. “Good. I don’t need any of that nonsense.”

He nodded. “You were answering my question.”

You took a deep breath and then released it, looking at the ceiling. “Desperation. Have to pay the rent. And he seemed...optimistic.” There was something appealing to that optimism. Something familiar and comfortable. Refreshing.

“What did he tell you your job was going to be?”

“Dealing with trash that tried to get near him.”

“What’s on your resume?”

“Nothing to make me qualify for this office. And if you think I’m here because I’m taking advantage of his kindness...I can’t say that you’re wrong, but I’m also just curious about what he intends for me. Don’t think that I enjoy saying that someone is dead weight. They’re people, and they need to make a living somehow, but they need to make that living honestly. THere are people who want jobs, who need jobs, who are actually willing to put in the work.”

“So, going undercover…?”

“It was a solution that would alleviate the feelings of guilt that our boss might have felt if we hadn’t fully investigated and ended up firing someone. Besides, he strikes me as a bit of a neat freak, so I figure the janitorial staff should be top-notch. I did hear a rumor that J-Hope had liberated a cleaning cart and taken it to the top floor, though.”

Jin sighed, shaking his head. “He really hasn’t trusted the cleaning staff since your first day.”

“Lovely. Did he clean this office?”

“Gotta admire his work ethic.”

You shook your head. “So, I’m not the only person who’s almost completely in the dark about what my job actually is, am I?”

“I think he keeps rethinking what he wants for you.”

“And you’ve been avoiding me because…?”

He shrugged a bit. “I haven’t. It’s been a bad week for my nephew. I’ve been in and out of the office all week. Plus I’ve been working with Hobi.”

You both jumped as someone banged on your office door.

Hoseok threw it open with a grin, then halted, surprised. “Oh, hyung.”

“Hey, Hoseok-y. Y/n and I were just talking. I’ll leave you two to discuss y/n’s job. Because I think we’re all confused about it.” Seokjin took one of your paperclips and left.

Hoseok looked after him in confusion. “Did he ask if he could take that paperclip?”

“Um, no, but it’s just a paperclip. You read the report?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Good work on that. Sorry you were thrown into it so soon after starting.”

“You mean my first day.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Your first day. So, I’ve figured out what your story is going to be.”

“My story?”

“Whenever a higher-up is brought in, they’re presented to the company. There are already rumors about a higher-up being brought into Mr. Jung’s board, and it’s extremely unorthodox for us to not present you within the first two weeks. So, we’ve got a couple days leeway to get you settled into your actual job.”

“I’m pretty sure that was part of my actual job.”

“Right. Anyway, I thought we might tell people that you’re the eyes and ears of Mr. Jung, and that one of your jobs is ensuring that we are at top potential.”

“Ok.”

“Which is basically what we already said, but I want to make it clear that you are in direct communication with HR and all reports go to you at the end of the day. I’m just having trouble coming up with your title.”

“Quality manager?”

He paused. “Ok, you’re really good. How have you not worked in a job like this before?”

“Hard times, big sacrifices. So, if I’m understanding things correctly, you want me to look through the reports on behaviors and such and make sure they’re looked into and that we’re paying attention, but also you want me to check in on projects and make sure we’re asking all the right questions.”

“Exactly. Quality manager is an excellent way of describing that job. But also, your job is to keep people from trying to see Mr. Jung. Mr. Jung has enough on his plate.”

You nodded. “I can do that. Shall we practice? I read through the notes on that memory core device.”

He grinned. “Sounds great. But first, the morning meeting.”

You nodded. “Thank you for cleaning my office, by the way.”

He just smiled back. “I can’t stand messes.”

“I gathered. You’ve got a pretty big one downstairs, though.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of dreading firing people though.”

“Then let me handle it. You can be there as a known authoritative figure and I’ll do the talking.”

“They might get mad at you for spying.”

“Then I trust you to handle their subsequent anger appropriately. I’ll try to keep things professional.”

“Thanks.”

“For?”

“Even offering to do any of this. I wasn’t really ready to take on the boss position. But I can’t sit by while people abuse their place in this company. I have to deal with the messes. My family didn’t build this legacy for me to let it fall apart.” His gaze was darker, but held determination to continue forward. A sternness to see things through.

The side of J-Hope that was the CEO of HopeWorld.

“I think once you get over the first trials you’ll be just fine.”

He looked at you in surprise. “You think?”

“I believe,” you amended. “I believe you are capable of being a great leader. I believe even though you are generous and compassionate, you will be able to handle the harder parts of this job for the good of the many employees who are doing their jobs to the best of their ability. Because that’s what it means when people are fired. The waste they accumulate is returned to the company and those that are still with it can benefit, or others who need the job take it and actually accomplish it. You’re improving efficiency, which makes the company prosper so you can do more for your employees.”

He slowly nodded. “That makes sense.”

You nodded. “Look at me: I could actually afford a new work outfit.”

He grinned, looking you over. “And it’s a great outfit.”

Okay. You hadn’t expected that.

“Are you implying something inappropriate?”

“Never. I just think it’s a very appropriate look and that it is very good at accentuating your good looks. You’re very good at shopping.”

You weren’t. Not really. Taehyung and Jimin had tagged along and helped you shop because you weren’t sure what would be best for the job and position. You had picked the items out, but Jimin and Taehyung had helped you style them together and decide on them.

“Sounds inappropriate to me.”

He chuckled. “Can’t you just take the compliment? It’s early.”

“If you compliment me, people might think that you’re showing favoritism.”

“Let them,” He answered easily, shrugging and holding the door open for you.

“Are you drunk again? I told you, you really shouldn’t drink.” You folded your arms.

He just laughed. “In. We’re late.”

“If we are, it’s your fault,” You replied, walking in and waving to the other men.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t dream of blaming you. Morning, everyone.” Hoseok took his seat. “What’s the day look like?”

“Same as yesterday, except whatever you and y/n are up to. My project is almost ready to present, Seokjin’s coming to help me today.”

“I do have my nephew today, he’s having a bad day,” Seokjin said quietly, making notes.

“That’s fine,” Hoseok said firmly, Namjoon merely nodding. “People like seeing him, and we’ve always said that kids are welcome as long as they don’t disturb others.”

“And he can come to my office anytime,” Taehyung said with a fond grin.

Seokjin nodded. “I have a meeting with my division just before lunch?”

Taehyung grinned. “We can color!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Work, Taehyung. He can color, you can design.”

“Right. Right. That.”

“I need Yoongi-hyung’s help on the memory-core project.”

Hoseok looked mildly intrigued, glancing at you.

“I can head down after I check on my project. Might be an hour or so.” Yoongi checked his watch.

Hoseok nodded. “And we’ll be there in about two hours so that Y/n can look things over as my second set of eyes.”

Jungkook looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “O-oh, o-o-okay.”

The others looked mildly surprised, but quickly moved on.

“I’ll be on phone meetings to organize that event most of the morning. Our employees really enjoyed the food truck war, and it’s summer, so I think it’s best to try and have enjoyable events as frequently as possible during the weeks we can’t give them 3-day weekends.” Jimin twirled his pen as he spoke, looking over something on his planner.

“I’ll leave it in your hands, just don’t go over budget.” Hoseok jotted a few things down. “Okay. Y/n and I have to deal with some unsatisfactory employees, then we’ll be down to see how things are going with the memory core. Not sure about our afternoon, but I might leave that for her to settle in. How does that sound to you?”

“If ‘settle in’ means looking over reports, then that sounds fine.”

He nodded, flipping his book closed. “Alright. Then off we go.”

You got up and followed him out, and into the elevator.

“It’ll be best to go to them since it would draw a lot of attention to bring them up. We need the head of janitorial service with us as well, and I want to apprise her of what’s going to happen before we do it. You were smart to record the conversation, I’ll present that to Chiseul.”

Chiseul had been in charge of sanitation at the company for eight years, she was kind, but firm and had no patience for slacking. When you’d worked under her, even for a day, you could tell she expected the best. She had put who she thought were her best people in charge of cleaning the top floor, but instead they had been doing very basic cleaning and actually stealing from the company.

Her reaction to finding out was silent fury. “Are you sure you don’t want me to fire them?”

“We believe that it’s best for us to handle it, that way others will know that they can’t pull anything. I’m sorry we deceived you,” You said respectfully, because you did respect her. You’d put in your report that she should get a raise.

Hoseok nodded. “We will be implementing a system to keep people accountable soon.”

She accepted that with a sharp nod and then went to call those who would be fired into her office.

Hoseok groaned as soon as the elevator doors closed. “That could have gone better.”

------

You held the ice to your face and shrugged. “Could have gone worse. Security stepped in at the appropriate time. And I didn’t fight back, which means I can’t be charged with assault should they try anything like that. There were also multiple witnesses.”

“But you got hurt,” He argued, rubbing his face. “You got hurt.”

“So, I’ll have a black eye. I walk to work, so it’s not like I’ll be driving while mildly impaired. We got ice on it pretty quickly, and I don’t think it will end up being too bad of a black eye.”

“You got hurt,” He whispered.

“And I’m fine. Hoseok, we’re on our way to look over a major project in your company. Pull yourself together.” You reached over and straightened his collar. “It’s a bruise, not a fatal wound.”

He caught your wrist, holding you in place so he could move the ice pack with his other hand and see, the whole time his expression holding worry and what might have been nausea. “Why would they attack you? I was there too. Why would they only attack you?”

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t listening.

“Betrayal,” You answered anyway, sighing a little and forcing the ice-pack back to your face.

“Uh, you two coming out of there or do you need another moment?” Yoongi asked, an eyebrow raised as he looked between you, not seeming to care that he’d startled both of you since you’d been too busy looking at one another to realize the elevator was open. But his gaze stuck on the ice pack. “Shit, they hit you?”

“Don’t you start too,” You groaned, exiting the elevator.

Hoseok stopped you, pulling you back so he could look at your eye again. “Hyung, look at her eye.”

Yoongi frowned a bit more, but complied. His eyes widened a bit. “Uh…infirmary.”

“Thought so.” Hoseok pulled you back into the elevator.

“Oh, come on,” You groaned.

Yoongi just shushed you. “Your eye looks bloody.”

“Oh.” Well, that was special. It didn’t especially hurt, but that might be because you were numbing the area.

But Hoseok ended up taking you to the hospital for evaluation.

As the two of you walked out of the hospital, you sighed for the fortieth time. “Told you I was fine.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“He said that I should be fine and to come back in if my eye gets worse or I start having other issues. It was probably her ring that got me.” You glanced at your watch. “Man, I’m not going to experience a regular workday, am I?”

His head dropped. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’d probably get bored if it got too quiet. And feeling sorry doesn’t do any good. You didn’t hurt me, so you’re wasting energy by being sorry.”

“I know, but I got you into this job—“

“Are you thirsty?” You asked, stopping.

“What?”

“Are you thirsty?” You asked slowly.

“Um, I guess?”

You nodded and pulled him into the restaurant, dragging him to the bar.

“I don’t think you should have alcohol—“

“Hi, can I get a water with lemon and a Piña colada?” You asked the bartender, ignoring Hoseok. You had no intention of drinking, but Hoseok was so tense it was making you tense.

He stared at the piña colada. “What?”

“Drink. You’re driving me crazy. You need to relax and I doubt you’re going to do it on your own. I’ll make sure you don’t end up in a back alley.” You patted his hand.

“So…if you could drink, what would it be?” He asked.

“Probably a gimlet, with extra lime. But like I said, my preferred drink is water. I like to keep my head clear. There’s less golf-ball swallowing.”

He snorted and choked on his second sip of his drink.

You patted his back as he tried to recover from choking, and he was laughing in between coughing which wasn’t helping at all.

The bartender was looking concerned.

“His wife left him for his sister and his brother in law confessed his love to him, it’s a royal mess,” you told him, rolling your eyes.

Hoseok died a little more. “Stop,” He gasped, finally just laughing.

“It’s not my fault he thinks your butt is cute.”

He collapsed off of the stool, thudding to the ground and laughing harder.

“Man, two sips and you’re already drunk. You better not ask me if I like that nastiness again.”

He got up with your help, starting to calm down. “I won’t ask that.”

“Good. But seriously, I’m cutting you off. You’re too much of a lightweight.” You settled the bill with some extra for the bartender, then guided him toward the door.

But both of you stopped at the door.

“It’s raining?” Hoseok asked, still a little breathless.

“It would appear so.” You looked up at the sky.

“Do you like getting caught in the rain?” He asked quietly, holding out his hand.

You laughed softly, taking his hand. “I actually really do.”

“Really?” He smiled as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Really,” You confirmed, looking out at the rain with a little excitement.

“You might ruin your clothing.”

“Clothing washes, as do I.” You tugged and pulled him out into the rain, giggling as the rain started soaking into you.

He laughed as well, looking less comfortable in the rain, but like he was willing to let you lead him through it.

No.

Like he would follow you into anything.

“Why did you offer me the job?” You asked.

He met your gaze with surprise.

“Why me?”

He smiled at you, stepping closer so he could be heard. “I couldn’t say goodbye.”

You tilted your head.

“I couldn’t say goodbye to you, not at that time, and I don’t know why, but I’m trying to figure it out.”

You could work with that.

Hoseok touched your cheek, then moved in.

You knew your eyes were a little wide.

He gave a slight smile and then leaned in to kiss you.

You allowed it, and you didn’t regret it as his lips met yours. It was…new. Different. Right.

Except for one tiny detail.

You pushed him away gently. “Okay. But you need a new go-to drink because I forgot to mention I’m actually allergic to coconut, so, I’m gonna take some allergy meds now.”

His eyes widened. “I like mimosas and daiquiri.”

You nodded, swallowing an allergy pill. “Great. We won’t kill me, then.”

“How allergic are you?”

You shrugged. “I should be fine now.”

“Okay.”

“So, if you want to kiss me, we can do that again.”

He met your gaze, smiling. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

You rolled your eyes, then pulled him in. “Kiss me.”

He grinned. “Man, I love your honesty.”

And in the rain, you kissed your piña colada man, ignoring what might happen in your future.

“Might not be a permanent job, my judgement might be clouded. I might show favoritism.”

“Then call me a consultant pending permanent employment and depending where this takes us we’ll…let the others decide my fate.”

“Works for me. Let me walk you home. Where do you live?”

You gestured vaguely. “That way. About fifteen minutes from your building. Work. Place.”

“When you said you were a virgin—”

“I never said I was a—walk. We’re getting soaked standing here like idiots and I hear thunder.” You started walking, keeping hold of his hand. “That or I start reevaluating what parts you really need.”

He laughed. “You know what’s funny?”

“No.”

“When you’re actually being honest, your hands relax, and when you’re bluffing, they get all tense.”

Huh.

“What is your biggest concern with the memory core?”

You considered it for a moment. “It could just be a matter of wording.”

“That’s still important.”

“The proposal suggests imprinting all of the memories of the player onto the memory core so that full immersion is more stimulating.”

“Right.”

“But it’s wording makes it sound like the game is replacing their memories. Imagine someone overwrites the data: what happens when the player tries to re-immerse themselves?”

He was quiet for a while. “That…could be….”

“Disastrous. This machine is supposed to work with your brain, but corrupted files could shut the brain down or damage it. It is incredibly dangerous if I’m understanding it correctly.”

“It could hurt people. We have to tick every box. And come up with fail safes.”

“To me, it’s not worth the risk. But that’s why I wanted to talk to them, to make sure I was understanding things.” You gestured to a building. “This is me.”

He nodded, only following when you tugged on his hand. “Are you sure you want me—”

“We’re soaked and the wind is picking up, and—” lightning flashed through the sky, “the storm is getting worse. We’ll call you a cab or something.”

“Right. Inside. Good idea.”

You ditched your shoes the moment you got in, rushing to the bathroom to grab towels so the two of you didn’t drip all over everything. “It’s a bit hot in here, sorry, my AC broke.”

“Just means we’re not going to get chilled,” He answered, taking the towel and looking around. “It’s nice.”

You glanced around as well. You’d opted for minimalism since that was the only way to make the place not feel claustrophobic. “It does the job.”

“So, you’re allergic to coconut?”

“Mostly the consumption, but I do have mild reactions externally as well.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Coconut hair treatment with my friend when I was fifteen. They had to cut my hair off because my scalp blistered and broke out and it was…traumatizing. But that was because it was coconut oil right against my skin for over an hour, undiluted. My daily allergy meds help if I happen to use, I don’t know, soap with coconut in it.” You put the kettle on the stove since you were feeling kind of chilled. “Tea?”

“Sure.” He started examining the photos on your wall (all three of them). “So, if I hadn’t been the last straw for that job, where do you think you’d be right now?”

“Dumping a scotch-neat on my boss’s head, if not down his pants, after quitting and looking for a job with less drunk people. My boss was drunk, my coworkers were drunk, everyone was drunk, except me. Do you know how surreal that feels?”

“And yet you accepted a job from me, someone who was drunk?”

“So you admit it,” You pointed out.

He rubbed his neck. “I usually only drink in the evenings, it generally makes me sleepy.”

“You had caffeine with your alcohol, then.”

“Accidentally.”

“That would explain the whole ‘why is the rum always gone’ debacle.”

He was very red looking in profile, but that could have been the lighting. “Yeah. I was embarrassed as I did it and yet I didn’t stop. Stupid.”

“If I hadn’t been having a terrible night, I probably would have enjoyed the reference, honestly. But, as you put it, you were the last straw. I would probably be applying to fast food right about now if it hadn’t been you.” You watched him studying your photos far longer than they were worth studying. “Are my photos that interesting?”

“These three were the ones you consciously decided to display, which means they mean something to you.”

You thought about that for a moment, thinking about all of the photos of families that the people you’d worked under while spying had shown you. Always the kids, always the wife, always the beloved pet.

But Hoseok had no photos in his office.

“You don’t keep any photos visible in your office, and office photos are, arguably, the ones that provide the most insight into people,” You countered, sitting on the floor with the tray of tea on the coffee table.

He joined you on the floor. “It’s a precaution. I keep the photos in J-Hope’s desk, the locked drawer. I’m surprised you noticed, though.”

“I wouldn’t have, but people kept shoving their photos in my face and if they weren’t, then I was redirecting their attention to their photos so I would get away with my snooping. People like to talk about themselves.”

He was watching you, a soft smile on his face. “You really are something else.”

You shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you there.”

“We could hide it, you know. Us, whatever we are?”

“Professional flirtation,” You guessed, holding the mug and surprised at how cold your fingers had been. “Workday dalliance?”

“Wow, um, anyway, we could just not tell anyone about us.”

“9 to 5 lovers,” You quipped, trying to come up with more.

“Are you purposefully ignoring me?”

“Ye-es,” You dragged out, trying to think of another thing to call it.

“You don’t think we could?”

“I think the boys would figure it out before the morning meeting ended.”

“Oh, right, I didn’t mean from the boys.”

“Oh, ok, please continue.” You leaned on your hand and watched him.

“We stay away from anything unprofessional at work, with the exception of in private, and we make sure no one catches on. Then, when I officially take my position...we reevaluate where we are and adjust accordingly.”

“Officially take your position?”

“Technically, I’m not yet the CEO, my father is, but I’ve been acting CEO for about three years.”

He didn’t add that they had been the most prosperous three years of the company’s history, but maybe he was trying to stay humble.

“So, once he’s better and we finish a few things, he’ll hand over things to me officially. In front of the company.”

“Revealing that J-Hope is actually his son and everyone’s boss.”

He nodded. “Which would also be revealing that you have been working for me.”

“All of which could be potentially disastrous.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I bet you’d say I should have been open about it the whole time.”

“Not at all. I think this was the best course of action. Everyone respects J-Hope, they like him. They like his work ethic, they like how he listens, and they like how he cares. They like how bright and cheerful he is. They don’t know if they can trust their CEO, but they know that the board has been taking care of them and the CEO has been allowing it. They’re curious, and a little apprehensive.” You remembered all of the conversations you’d had over the week.

But one stuck out to you.

You’d been getting coffee with one of the employees in the marketing department, discussing the company and it’s leadership.

“I don’t know about the CEO. Or, well,” She flustered for a second. “I don’t know why he feels the need to hide from us. His father never did, but maybe there’s a plan. Every now and then, they have someone who sort of...scopes things out. They had me in project development for a couple of weeks so that I could tell them what I thought of the person that was testing the projects. That person was Mr. Jeon.”

You’d tilted your head, confused.

“Jeon Jungkook, he’s one of the board members, the youngest board member. He’s really good at catching on, which makes him a prime test subject for things that are about to be released. We can’t bring people in, not often, because information tends to get leaked. He’s been a godsend to the company. Mr. Jung found him, too, he’s found just about every top employee, and all of the board members--except J-Hope. He worked his way up through the company, and then impressed Mr. Jung Sr. and was given a job on the board. He looks after employee welfare and we’ve had an amazing increase in our benefits program ever since. It’s a shame Mr. Jung Jr. didn’t start out like J-Hope.”

“What’s that look for?”

You jumped a bit, refocusing on him. “All of the things that J-Hope has done are your accomplishments. You’ve improved the benefits program, upgraded the retirement package, made sure that everyone has received pay increases, and you worked your way up through the company. Your intellect lies in people, and your devotion to your job as their employer has inspired loyalty to you. I’m not saying you should go out tomorrow and reveal that you’re Mr. Jung Jr.”

“Do they really call me that?” He cringed.

“But you shouldn’t fear...telling them who you are. Yes, it could cause problems, but only momentarily. Until then, you want me to help you deal with trash and question everything so that the ship is running tightly when the official transfer happens. Right?” You asked, sitting up straight. “That way if anything happens with stocks, or the market, the company is running smoothly and will stay afloat.”

“You have a business degree, don’t you?”

“I never graduated,” You corrected easily. “But I did study some business, yes. This is what you want from me, correct?”

“Yes. I need you to tell me to suck it up when I hesitate.”

“Okay. Did you read my report on the other departments?”

He nodded slowly.

“Then I suggest you decide what should be done to those employees, and what you’re actually willing to do. Because I outlined my suggestions for each of them, but ultimately, it is up to you. You want to run a tight ship, you need to get rid of excess crew, which sounds terrible, but it’s true. If they’re not doing their job, they have no reason to be on deck. And some of them were on the wrong decks.”

He nodded. “I’ll review it once more, but we’ll probably go with your suggested actions.”

“Okay. Glad we understand each other.” You grabbed your phone, checking it. “Taehyung wants to know if I’m alive, and if I’m alive, is Hoseok alive as well.”

“Crap,” He went into his pocket. “Oh. They just wanted to go drinking. Taehyung is our usual designated driver. He’s not a big drinker like Jungkook and Jimin. I’m going to ask him to swing by and pick me up. If that’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t know how you felt about where you lived. You’re kind of hard to read.”

“I live here, I pay the rent, it’s small, but it’s mine. Or were you referring more to a bunch of men knowing where I, a single woman, lived?”

“The latter.”

“Ah, sweet of you to be concerned, but Jimin’s already seen my place.”

“He has?” Hoseok frowned.

“He dropped me off after we went shopping. None of the stores had bathrooms. Nature called.” You shrugged.

“I don’t like that,” Hoseok muttered, obviously more to himself.

“You don’t like that he had to use the bathroom? Or that we went shopping together? Because, technically, he was the only board member I was allowed to be seen with as one of his employment experiments.” You pointed out, waiting for him to pull himself together and continue texting Taehyung. “Also, you might want to text him before it’s too late.”

“That he saw your house.”

“Interesting. Text Taehyung,” You instructed carefully. “Before you have to pay for a cab.”

He did, but he was frowning the whole time.

You rolled your eyes. “Jimin was here for all of five minutes. I doubt he could even tell you what color the walls in the bathroom are.”

“Color,” He muttered, getting up and heading to the small hall.

“Um….”

“Purple. Walls are purple. Take that.”

“Oh my god, there is no way you’re even buzzed, why are you acting weird?”

“Purple. Blue. White. Three pictures.”

You rolled your eyes, and shook your head. “Weirdo. I mean, I knew that, only weird people like pina coladas--”

He caught you and kissed you again. “Don’t let Jimin in. He’s a minx. He’s a fox. That magic trickster fox that seduces you. A succubus.”

“Incubus,” you corrected. “Which is a sort of demon. Magical fox thing is a kitsune. You’re mixing your mythologies.”

“You’re so smart,” He said, but he said it in a sort of happy, sighing way while looking at you so softly and gently and adoringly….

You believed him.

He touched your cheek, then quickly pulled his hands away. “Alright. How about a rule?”

“Depends on the rule,” You replied.

“You have good judgement, and self control,” His gaze shifted to your eye, and his fingers brushed the edge of the bruising with a feather-light touch, “So, I want there to be a rule that at work, any...personal things between us are initiated by you. Which means you can shut me down at any time, anyway you feel necessary.”

“You mean, like asking you about your ex?”

“Ouch,” He muttered, looking down. “Yeah. Sure. What do you want to know?”

“Am I replacing your ex?”

He shook his head. “Not even remotely.”

“I’m in their office.”

He looked up, then shook his head. “No, you’re in my mom’s old office. Yesuel never worked at HopeWorld. Too much of a free-spirit.”

“But you loved them all the same.”

“I did. I thought I did. Love is...tricky.”

“Are you ready for another significant other?” You asked.

He met your gaze, holding it. “Do you like getting lost in the rain?”

You smiled. “You know I do.”

“Then you know I am,” He replied easily, fingers resting under your chin. “Are you going to be okay, with your eye like that? They did say it could get worse, and if it does….”

“Are you asking if you can stay? Because you’d have to borrow clothing, or live in a blanket until your clothing is dry. I don’t have much that would fit you.”

“I’m worried about you. I’ll stay on the couch.” He touched a strand of your still-damp hair. “Eye injuries are dangerous.”

“Didn’t you already tell Taehyung to come pick you up?”

He shook his head. “I was just going to walk down to work and get my car and pretend that Taehyung picked me up.”

You hit him lightly. “And if you got struck by lightning?”

“My company would be in good hands,” He answered, shrugging slightly. “But I would miss out on a few things. But you can get hit by lightning and live.”

“Not well,” You argued, frowning.

He gently ran a thumb over your eyebrow, as though to ease away your frown. “Besides, I was already struck by you. I don’t think anything could knock me off my feet like that, I don’t think anything ever has. You’re new and unique. And I want to know everything I can about you. Even if you don’t like pina coladas. Even if you are a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re addicted to it,” He replied easily, smirking at you.

And yes.

You were.

It was crazy, but you were completely addicted to the banter with him, the way he smiled while you were grumbling, the way he asked what you thought of things and actually listened. You liked his gentleness and compassion.

He brought hope back to your world.

“I agree to your rule,” You whispered.

Hoseok grinned and kissed you.

Your future was going to be crazy...but maybe the consistency of his smile was enough to get you through.

#btswritingbingo #hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #reader x jhope #reader x bts #bts fic #jung hoseok #jhope #jimin #taehyung #seokjin #yoongi #namjoon #business au #ceo!hoseok #ceo!jhope #one-shot

65 notes · View notes

thehealingplum · 3 years ago

Text

I do not miss my job.

I had to quit immediately.

I used to work at a Christian radio station and it was very unpleasant. But people definitely had a sort of... Positive image of it because it was a Christian radio station and they had been going for decades. The owner uses the radio station to promote his school. He does not take care of the radio station at all.

Putting under a readmore because it’s gross and also includes a picture of insects.

[ID 1]The front desk area of the station. A bucket, a large container, and multiple trash bins, collecting water dripping from the ceiling and the light fixture. There are several large brown stains on the ceiling, one of which is heavy with water. [end ID]

This is what we would walk into. First thing when we pass through the door. I did not turn on the light because I was afraid of the fire hazard, what with the water getting into the light fixture. He has since “fixed” the problem by hopping up onto the roof to patch it up himself, and has painted over the water damage stains.

[ID 2] The corner of a small office. There is a desk covered with a lot of junk and trash bags. There is a hole in the ceiling in the corner. Underneath the hole is a large container that collects the water. The ceiling also has stains showing the water damage.[end ID]

This room stays closed. I don’t know what its purpose was before, but now it just serves as a storage area. I do not know if he ever fixed that hole.

[ID 3] A small carpeted room with shelves containing books and papers. There are also some other pieces of junk strewn about, but most of it has been moved to catch the water in buckets and trash cans. There is a large water stain beneath the bucket in the center of the room. [end ID]

This is another room that was used as storage. There is a noticeable scent that comes from this room. I cannot imagine how disgusting it looks underneath the carpet that has been there since before my time there.

[ID 4] A small back room. There is a small table with a microwave and a miniature fridge. There is also a small counter with a sink. Next to the sink is a water cooler. Against the wall, there is a broken chair, a vacuum, and a desk lamp. Next to the desk lamp is an open door leading to a bathroom. [end ID]

This is our kitchen. That light in the corner? That’s our only source of light besides the bathroom light back there. Our kitchen has a water cooler, which is probably the nicest thing in the station. The mini-fridge is probably older than me, and it is constantly leaking. I stopped putting food in there because there was a strange odor coming from it.

[ID 5] A small room that was a makeshift recording room. There is carpet on the wall. An old and beat up desk has duct tape along the side as to avoid splinters. There are trash bins and containers to the right, on top of where the fax machine, modem and router are all plugged in. There is a broken chair in the middle of the room. [end id]

This was my workspace. Yes, that is carpet on the wall. It was how they made the space suitable for recording. But it isn’t used for that anymore. We just play the programs, pressing buttons and turning knobs.

[ID 6] A carpeted wall with water drippings. There are two trash bins, and the modem on the desk is covered with a plastic covering. [end id]

We frequently had to cover the electronics because that back room was prone to leaking. Leaking that got so bad that we would get flooding. Water would be pooling at the floor, dripping from behind that disgusting carpet that has been there longer than I have been in this world. We cleaned up the flooding with towels. We did. Not the owner. The board operators and the manager. Sometimes the owner would come in to check, and to empty the water buckets out back, but he really didn’t do any more than we did.

[ID 7] A broken office chair that has been messily put back together with duct tape and trashbags. [end id]

The chair pictured in the earlier picture was broken. We got tired of the seat moving around, so my manager tried to duct tape it. We’d end up with adhesive on our clothes. Instead of getting a chair that could accommodate everyone, we had designated chairs that most of us could sit in, but my heavier coworker was... well basically they were shamed to sit in this chair while we sat in the nicer chairs. I stopped sitting in the nice chair and sat in the duct tape chair. I didn’t feel right sitting in the good chair when my coworker would have to see that they weren’t allowed to sit in the other chairs.

[ID 8] A red solo cup with some two adult millipedes in it. Underneath them are juvenile and baby millipedes. [end ID]

As much as I love millipedes, I shouldn’t have been seeing so many. This was a regular occurrence. They do fill me with joy because I love their little legs scurrying about. But not in my workplace. They are not the only visitors we got. I do not have any pictures of the roaches and mice. I do have a picture of a lovely black widow though! And a couple of other big spiders. But that’s for a more pleasant post because I don’t want to make the buggies look bad..

[ID 9] A hand written note that reads:

“There is a man named Tom that used to work here a long time ago. He is in town this week. If he comes by, do not let him in. Just follow our police to not let anyone in.” [end ID]

I was terrified when they told me this. I had talked to this man on the phone. This Tom fellow. He was very angry about the owner and his wife. He spent a while on the phone with me, venting about his troubles. He told me I had a nice voice and that I could be a good counselor. But. He was still very angry, regardless of the nice things he said to me. I legitimately thought that because this man had showed himself here and talked about how much he hated these people, he was going to stop by and take revenge on them. I legitimately thought that this man was going to come to the station to kill someone.

I. Do. Not. Miss. This. Job.

On top of all the pictures I’ve shared, the content that was being broadcast was often very ignorant brainwashing. I would often hear people talking about how the republican party was better, how our previous president was better than this new one, how he was making sure that we kept Jesus the center of things. There was a lot of anti LGBT, anti abortion, anti BLM, and other ignorant bigotry. Their content made me feel like I was not allowed to exist as a queer black person who did not want to conform.

I had to listen to this every weekend. Every single weekend. Sometimes I had to pick up other peoples’ shifts because of family emergencies, so I got to heard MORE stuff that I was not okay with.

I do not want to return to this religious abuse, and I do not wish any of what happened to me on anyone. I had to call a crisis line multiple times while on the job. Because I was going to go out back and touch something that could have easily ended my life.

And that’s only half the reason I had a meltdown earlier this year.

#long post #personal #bad working conditions #poor working conditions #fuck capitalism #religious abuse #water damage #insects tw #unsanitary

10 notes · View notes

nissakii · 3 years ago

Text

Scent. a Haikyu!! Fanfiction pt.16

[want to read all chapters right now? Our fanfictions get updated every monday on our blog, click here to continue reading!]

“Why don’t you tell me something about omegas and how you react to them”. The phrasing maybe wasn’t that ambiguous, but the words were spat out with poisonous intention. Words that should enter your head and linger for a while not until one realizes they consume you. At least that was my intention on that day. I’ve heard enough times that those kinds of mind games were allegedly ‘horrible’ and ‘insulting’, but I never understood what the big deal was. It’s not like I’m taking away a toy from a child. We are all adults here, and life isn’t about who is the nicest. It’s about who succeeds. And if some little mind game is what gives me the head start. I’ll do it. Albeit possibly that I lost my chances to be friends with Oikawa, I must admit my words to him were pretty harsh, I felt like he took it well. Which isn’t good. He wasn’t fazed by it at all, I had noticed his smile maybe twitching a little but he only retorted with a smart explanation of how natural pheromones worked and made me look like an idiot country bumpkin. I still remembered his smile as he asked me if I understood what he meant, and maybe I was just angrier than usual but I could swear he was being all smug about it too. So I found someone who was willing to play the same game as me. Hm. The other interesting thing on that day, which keeps replaying in my head, was that omega girl. It was honestly shocking to scent an omega for the first time. My curiosity ran with it and I was glad she was fine with me being so close, I have heard stories in which omegas retorted with less ‘accommodating’ ways. I even caught her gaze after a lecture of mine, but she didn’t budge and I wasn’t up for conversation. Still, the way she looked at me after coming for Oikawa was insane. She didn’t yell or tried to fight me, she didn’t shy away either. She just looked at me. And it was terrifying. Her eyes were piercing through me as if to provoke me to continue, her scent had doubled up in intensity which I wasn’t expecting at all, and her sweet caramel scent suddenly burnt to crisp. Her voice was sharp but not too emotional, it was distinct for me to listen to. “I would ask you to mind your own business”. Stone cold, I gotta say. It made me take a step back and raise my arms in defense with a smile and the situation immediately deescalated, Oikawa had caught her scent and was just as aggravated and I realised the rumours I had heard were partly true, but the incident seemed a lot more severe than I had imagined. I mean it was the first thing I heard when I came here, it was on social media and every other first year told me the same thing. “It’s good you’re an alpha, the rest don’t have it easy here”. Maybe I really shouldn’t have meddled too much, it’s still a school I really wanted to go to and Osamu is here as well, so I really shouldn’t destroy my own chances that much. The caramel girl was technically right, I should mind my own business. But was that fun? Nah. The door creaked open as what I would assume could only be my brother entered the dorm room I was in. “Samu!”, I chimed excitedly. … I only pushed in the door a little bit and already heard my brother squeak my name. “Samu!”, he chimed and I entered the dorm with a greeting. “Ossu”, I placed the plastic bag with some utensils I needed for my classes on my bed and looked at Atsumu sprawled on his side. The dorm room we were given was actually quite small. I was used to having a bit more space to myself, but with the scholarship I was glad I atleast got a twin room with my brother. Although when I looked at him I sometimes thought differently. The two beds were pushed to the far end of the room and to the walls on the sides, a desk separating the space in between. In front of Atsumu’s bed, which was the one on the right, the other desk was situated which was supposed to be mine. I remember when we moved in here the dorm looked horrendous, but with enough cleaning and the right duvets and covers it felt a lot better. And of course my side was a lot neater than his. “S’that my

shirt?”, I recognized the pattern on the front and he merely scoffed at me. “Uh, no?” “Really?” “Uh”, he intelligently mused to himself and I sighed. “Nevermind, you take what ya want anyways. Make sure to wash it later, I gotta head to the library”, I left the bag with the supplies on my bed and instead fished out a list with the literature I had to get. “Alright, see ya” “See ya”, I retorted and headed back outside. I grabbed the list in my hands and tried to check which building I had to go to. “Why are there multiple libraries?” Linguistics? Human sciences? Okay I definitely don’t have to go to the law department. With at least twenty minutes of running around campus I finally went up to someone outside and asked for help. “Oh yeah that’s pretty confusing I guess, uh so you need to search for building 4, the library should be the glass building right next to it!” Nodding and bowing with a slight smile I made my way to the mentioned building. The way over there was very pretty, the pathways went under huge trees and the ambiance felt really good, but I had no time to walk around exploring. Finally, I looked at the beautiful building in front of me. Still belonging to the campus, but it was obvious that it was either newly built or otherwise rebranded. The walls showed a tinted version of the life inside, the higher stories dimly shining in a warm light. I approached the entrance and two huge doors slid open when I wanted to step inside. Murmuring was to be heard everywhere, and for the fact that it was a library I was a little shocked at the rumbling noise. As if I was entering a mall, tall metal gates that I had to go through demanded my student ID. I saw other students move swiftly between the poles and swish their ID quickly at a screen and I tried to emulate the gesture, completely overwhelmed with all of the technology. With I beep the gates opened and I stood still to admire the interior of the building. Standing in the middle, and elevator right in front of me lead to the different levels of the library. When I looked to the right I saw a reception and an information center, and to the left the toilets and another gate leading to a cafeteria where to be found. Stepping into the elevator I looked at the signs that signalled me which level I had to go to and I pressed the button. Floor 7 out of 12. This crap is huge! More and more students entered and left the elevator again, stopping at every floor to change its inhabitants. After some minor bumps in the road, I finally got to my desired floor. When the metal doors opened, I finally felt the silence. Shelves and more shelves of book were to be seen, students rummaging through them to find what they were looking for. Maybe it was the fact that the library was so huge, but i didn’t see too many people here. Looking up at a sign that read “Arts and human sciences” I knew I was at the right place. Walking inside I started to look for my books. Big mistake. The labels on the books were highly confusing, and I had no idea where to look. I peered at my list again. Introduction into Culinary Arts vol.1 – [1998-TR-CA-54] Huh? What about the good old alphabetization? I had no idea what those codes meant, and after only finding books on history and other weird subjects, I had to check for help. I went back to the entrance of the library and followed the arrow sign that said ‘reception’ until I found a desk with a young woman sitting behind it. She was focused on her laptop, quickly typing away as I approached her. “Hi”, I whispered and she shot up in her seat. “Oh, sorry, uhm can you help me find these books please?”, I whispered again as she visibly relaxed and smiled lightly. “Yeah, sorry I’m a bit jumpy today. What books are you looking for? Wanna read them here or rent them?”, she asked in a hushed voice and I realised I didn’t have to whisper all too much. “Rent please, but I have no idea where to find these. The codes are really weird”. She stood up from her stool and walked around the desk towards me. “Are you new

here? The codes are confusing at first but you’ll get used to it”. I nodded and handed her my list, and she concentrated on that for a moment before showing me something. “See that code? It’s made so you can narrow your search. [1998-TR-CA-54] means you look for the shelf number 54, then for CA which stands for culinary arts, then the authors initials which are ‘Tatum Rebecca’ and then the release year 1998”, her fingers pointed on each letter combination and then to the shelves around us. Puzzled, I still looked at the myriad of shelves in front of me and she must’ve caught my expression because she stifled a laugh and took a step towards the shelves. “Want me to help you?” I nodded and she replied with a hum as she started walking. “The library gets a little confusing at first”, she mused as I walked next to her, “I think I might’ve seen you on a library tour before? Are you new?” I nodded, “I just moved here, so everything is a little weird to me still”. Her eyes crinkled shut as she stifled another laugh and suddenly looked a bit taken aback, she looked to the floor and back up at me but not fully, “Yeah I felt the same when I came here for my first semester”. She turned around to face me and I looked down at her nameplate. Asami. Beta Committee. I pointed at the name plate with a cocked brow, “so you’re a beta?” She stopped in her tracks and gave me a look. “Uh yeah, I am”, she followed my gaze and suddenly started talking really fast, “Oh my god! I didn’t even introduce myself. You’re new you must be taking everything in still!” “It’s fine, I mean I saw it on your nameplate. Is Asami okay?”, I inquired and she nodded lightly with a shy smile. “I’m Osamu Miya, nice to meet you”, I slightly nodded my head as well and she beckoned me closer to follow her. As she walked through the shelves and pathways she explained more about the library. There were way too many faculties and abbreviations to remember, but luckily they hung up a lot of flyers that showed which abbreviations stood for which topic. I only needed a couple of these, but after finding the first two books my head started to buzz with all the information. “And here you have the department of culinary arts, its quite remote from the rest of the library but I guess you’ll have your peace and quiet here!”, Asami chimed happily, her voice raising a little bit as there were almost no students here. It was actually quiet nice to have no background noise. It reminded me of home, when I walked to school and I left a sleeping Atsumu behind. The breeze catching my face as I made my way to school. I hummed and looked around to locate the last books on my list. For my business and economics classes we had already found the book I needed, well Asami found them, but this time I tried to get the book on my own. Walking towards the shelves before the beta could even move, I already found the correct number out of sheer luck and started to check for the right letter combinations. I felt Asami roaming behind me, I could smell her rosey scent behind my form but she didn’t budge. “Ah”, I exclaimed as I pulled out the book I needed with a little too much excitement. She clapped quietly and nodded proudly. “You caught on really quickly! We could use a bit of help from someone like you in the committee!” “The beta committee?”, I asked with my index finger pointing to her name tag again. “Yeah! We always have a place for new students, and you could even work here in the library”, she concluded and I smiled a little. “Well I am flattered I guess, but I am not a beta”. She staggered for a moment and looked at me confused, until I saw her nostrils flare up and she held her hand to mouth as she realized her mistake. “Uh, uhm I- I’m sorry I-“, she started stuttering and I cut her off with a relaxed shake of my head. “No worries, I actually get that a lot”. “Ugh, no it’s not fine, I shouldn’t have assumed your secondary gender that so weird”, she slumped a little and took a step back, her eyes not even reaching my face anymore. “It’s no big deal, I get

this often even at home. People think my scent is a bit more subdued so” She nodded but still looked away, a weird silence brooding between us now. It’s really not that big of a deal though. “Oi!”, hushed yell came from the door and we both looked towards it to find a lean man leaning onto it. “The reception was empty, what are you doing?” “Oh, no”, the beta mused and clasped her hands together anxiously before looking back at me, still more distant than at the beginning of our conversation. “I’m sorry, that’s Akaashi I have to go back to the reception!”, and she turned around to meet the other guy before I could say anything. She was so jittery all of a sudden. “Uh, yeah”, I mumbled back as I watched her interact with said Akaashi, before I turned back to my list. They both left soon after that, and I was left alone in the silence of the shelves trying to find the few books I had left. After a couple of minutes and endless shuffling, I counted off my list and stopped with a satisfied huff when I realized I had everything I needed. The books were actually quite bothersome to carry, so I snagged one of the book trolleys that were laid out to help with transporting the literature and leisurely pushed it next to me as I approached the reception again. This time, there were a couple of students standing around the computer, and I curiously walked closer. “No way, I can’t take Thursday. I have extracurriculars there!”, another male beta I assumed argued with Asami who was typing frantically on her computer. “Well I don’t have any other slot for you, I’m sorry. It’s either Thursday for you or Akaashi, and Akaashi is already taking Friday this time”, she mumbled a bit more annoyed than I expected. She really was different when calm. I already released when she assumed I was a beta that she felt comfortable, but when she suddenly drew back I felt her environment must be very precise for her to relax. Good thing Tsumu isn’t here. “I can take both days”, Akaashi mumbled, and I took another step and cleared my throat to interrupt. “Sorry, can I just check these out?”, I asked and Akaashi immediately nodded and typed up something into the computer even though Asami was still sitting in front of it. As a result she retreated into herself with a squeal and grumbled when Akaashi slightly pushed away her swivel chair. “Can you give me the books you wanna take with you?”, the aloof beta asked politely and I pushed the books towards him. As he scanned every item on the list, I felt the eyes of the other male beta on me. I wasn’t sure if I had seen him before somewhere, but he looked at me with slanted eyes before scrunching his nose and inhaling my scent. He suddenly calmed down a lot and even smiled a little, as if his cause for concern was suddenly gone. “You’re new here aren’t you? What’s your name hm?”, he tilted his head and leaned forward on the counter. “Uh, yeah. I’m Osamu Miya, nice to meet you”, I prompted back and the beta nodded, like he was pleased with the answer. “Any interest in joining the beta committee? It’s very-” Asami nudged his arm and furiously shook her head to signal something and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. Is it really that ambiguous? “What Asami? I’m trying to recruit fresh meat here! We need the help!” “Actually I am not a beta. I’m an alpha”, I retorted lamely, and I felt a twinge of surprise when Asami’s eyes shot up to me in fear. “What is it?”, I asked and felt annoyance crumbling up slightly. “Oh”, the beta I was talking to shot back with venom in his voice and Akaashi only sighed while typing in codes for the books,” and alpha are you?” I nodded with scrunched eyebrows. What is he getting at? “Well, then you can leave”, she kissed his teeth and looked to the side as if disgusted. “Futakuchi! You can’t say that! It’s borderline discrimination at this point!”, Asami pulled at the guys sweater and he broke away but kept looking at her as he spoke. “No way! We have enough alpha’s strolling around terrorizing us! What about us hm?!” “Don’t mind him. He’s very”,

Akaashi looked at Futakuchi and then back at me with disdain written in his features, “passionate”. “It’s about beta’s not getting the recognition they deserve! Beta supremacy!”, he whisper yelled at Asami who only sank her head into her hands. Beta supremacy? Somehow that didn’t feel right to me. Personally I didn’t take much care into being an alpha, the whole secondary gender thing wasn’t of much interest anyways. I generall talk to the people I wanna talk to, and when it comes to more serious relationships, I tend to not have a type. Although most Alpha’s go for omegas and vice versa, and most beta’s tend to stay in their own bubble, I felt it was almost restricting to think about that when choosing somebody. “Pay them no mind please”, Akaashi pushed the rented books towards me and I pulled them towards the small trolley with a nod. “You can take that one to your dorm, but please bring it back as soon as you can”, the calm beta continued and I thanked him with another nod. That Futakuchi guy still kept on glaring at me, while Asami swatted at his arm when she realised I stared too. “Yeah I’ll bring it over later, thank you”, I looked at the beta girl until she finally looked back and thanked her as well. She nodded and I turned around to get back to the dorm. My phone buzzed before I could even start moving and I checked my text messages. Tsumu: bring me pudding pls? You’re insufferable… Tsumu: thx o3o With a sigh I pushed the phone back into my jeans pocket and left the library behind.

Previous Next

4 notes · View notes

a-very-fond-farewell · 4 years ago

Text

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 24/?

CLAMP AU n.3 [chengyu? yucheng? (JC/MXY) edition. don’t...question my taste bruh]: “Somewhere, sometime.”

[tw eating disorders mentioned + tw suicide mention (body sacrifice)]

[ok fam. ok. I get it. I would basically ship JC with a rock if it meant I could play with my crack AUs. but I have solid evidence for this one. I promise you.]

[so, “Kobato” from CLAMP is possibly my favorite series from them. it’s 6 volumes long, roughly 40 chapters (and I only recently found out there was an epilogue...even though it was not there in my published version of the series. bc your local cryptid did in fact buy the entire thing in the flesh, that’s how much I love it)]

[in this AU I’ll change some things for the sake of consistency, but I suggest you read it bc the hurt/comfort and pining is enjoyable...so...if you read my silly AU I’m afraid I will spoil the plot for u :( and that’s the last thing I want to do...I understand if you decide to go read the manga and skip my prompt. it’s ok, I’m fine, go and have fun ;-;]

[if you kept reading, hi :D]

[now. am I uncomfortable with certain common tropes in CLAMP’s work in general? yes. especially the age gaps between some of the characters, some of which are not adults. hence the reason behind the changes in this AU. but! the aesthetics fam. the beautiful drawings. the cute outfits. (*ﾉ▽ﾉ)

do you see these?? how cute would Mo XuanYu look in these fam?? I honestly hc him enjoying skirts and feminine outfits a whole lot, but you can imagine him with pants and they would be just as cute. my favorite one is the second from the left btw.]

(imagine Mo XuanYu like this btw and check out the fancomic by the same op! an anon suggested it to me a while ago and now I’m hooked!)

[other mangacaps bc you need visuals:

yeah. angry boy meets bby with a mission to accomplish, bonding over their inferiority complex. yep. I only love the nicest things in life. that’s me.

also look at my baby girl ;-; so cuTe]

[the title is from the ost from the anime series, “Itsuka dokoka de” (check it out!). the anime feels more cohesive than the original manga, possibly bc the pacing is handled a little bit better (since the manga was cut short and the end felt a bit sloppy, but the emotional engagement was still good). and I remember being 17 and crying like a baby when this song came in. if you don’t have time for the manga binge the anime instead! there are plot holes in both of them and the stories are different but still both very enjoyable if you like soft things and angsty vibes.]

[enjoy!]

When YanLi saw him for the first time in front of her door, at the beginning of spring, she thought XuanYu was too pretty and too young for his own good. Sitting across her on the floor, a tea set between them as he politely answered her questions, the boy couldn’t have looked older than sixteen yet he assured her he was of age and well into adulthood. Which seemed pretty difficult to assess, not with the way he dressed: cute button down, beret slightly askew on top of his pretty head and an old-looking suitcases in hand. She didn’t mention the stuffed black rabbit poking out from the front pocket of his luggage, which seemed more of a comfort thing than a reliable source of company.

Moreover, Jin Ling seemed transfixed by him, toddling his way towards their guest asking for cuddles... something her son had never done in front of strangers.

XuanYu refused to give his last name, nor did he have an ID he could show her, nor did he seem worried about how strange that was. And YanLi knew ZiXuan would have been against it, but she couldn’t leave the kid looking all over Lanling for a place to stay... so she gave him the only available room in their rundown pension.

She only hoped Jiang Cheng would be a nice neighbor and leave the kid alone. Who knew what horrors XuanYu was running away from, after all.

When XiChen heard from YanLi of her new tenant, he would have never guessed the kid to look so naive. Not in a bad way, mind you. But his smiles, for how genuine they seemed to be, looked a little bit too big. A little bit too strained not to be a distraction tactic from his part. Or maybe XiChen had lived too long surrounded by fake smiles and closed off people to not worry.

That’s probably why he gave XuanYu a job when YanLi asked him to look over the kid. More to prove himself there were still trustworthy people in the world than to give the younger man a chance. He couldn’t even pay him a full salary, not with the debt collectors breathing on his neck as he tried to run his late mother’s kindergarten.

But maybe that would have been enough for now. A starting point for something better, something new.

A-Yuan had always known the kindergarten used to be an orphanage back in the days, but now he had reached an age where doubts stuck to his head instead of being forgotten with the passing of time. Wen Qing and A-Ning were always busy -be it in the hospital or in university- and A-Yuan didn’t know if they loved him enough to keep him. Ever since granny had passed away he had wondered, day after day, when his cousins would have left him behind for good.

He was thinking about such things when he first met XuanYu, on the man’s first day on the job as a teaching assistant. A-Yuan was mulling over his sadness when XuanYu had come to his rescue, asking him what was wrong... before enthusiastically praising his cousins for working so hard after hearing they were late to take A-Yuan home. XuanYu stayed with him and they played on the swings as they waited for A-Ning to come pick him up, apologizing profusely.

On the way home, his cousin held him close and kissed his forehead as he asked him if he had had fun with the new teacher. And A-Yuan felt less doubtful afterwards.

After hearing the story from her brother, Wen Qing had made it her job to look into XuanYu and his weird approach to life in general. She took every opportunity she could grasp to spy on the younger man, lunch breaks be damned. She needed to confirm if the kid was a trust worthy person or a runaway child pretending to be older than what he actually was. Well, maybe tailing an unsuspecting young man on the streets of Lanling in scrubs and sunglasses would be considered a bit much, she could admit as much. But it was the thought that counted, no?

Her friend MianMian told her to knock it off and talk to the kid like a normal human being, but the truth was that... well, XuanYu was really too weird to be considered normal. He seldom put himself in dangerous situations without much care, such as picking up a random (and still lit) cigarette from the ground just to give it back to the person who had “accidentally dropped it”. Other times he would cross a road without looking left and right first, risking to be run over by cars at every corner. He never, never, fumbled with a phone and he frequently talked to himself... sometimes even directing his words to that creepy stuffed rabbit of his.

No thank you, Wen Qing felt safer behind light poles and crumpled newspapers held upside down. Even if that made her look sketchy as fuck.

Wen Ning made sure to arrive on time to pick A-Yuan up after that time, often chatting with XuanYu as they waited for his baby cousin to retrieve his backpack and raincoat. It was refreshing to speak with the younger man, no matter how weird he acted sometimes. Like that time A-Yuan asked him to tie his shoe-laces for him and XuanYu didn’t know how to do it. Or that time they caught the man taking a nap on the floor in the middle of the school hall. Or that time XiChen had ordered a cake for one of the kids’ birthday and XuanYu didn’t seem to know how to sing the birthday song.

Wen Ning had no place to judge, after all. But XuanYu’s smiles felt like balm on his heart. And if his sweet voice followed Wen Ning home as he bounced A-Yuan in his arms, well. Nobody needed to know that.

The last thing Meng Yao would have expected to hear that summer day when he called the kindergarten was a voice so different from XiChen’s. Startled, he had confusedly asked if the kid worked there and how so, given that the school definitely couldn’t afford to hire anyone. He ought to know. He was the debt collector.

But the kid apologized, introduced himself, and then explained XiChen had offered him a part-time job out of kindness more than out of need. The idiot. XiChen should have remembered who his money belonged to instead of taking charity cases left and right.

But when Meng Yao said as much to naive XuanYu, the other vehemently protested, surprising the debt collector with strong opinions on how he shouldn’t underestimate other people’s intelligence and kindness in the first place.

Meng Yao laughed out at that, genuinely so.

There was more to that kid XuanYu than what one would have expected.

Nie HuaiSang caught a first glimpse of the mystery man only in late summer, when XuanYu stepped into his cake shop to look at the display. His coworker MianMian seemed to recognize the younger man immediately, greeting him by saying they had a friend in common, namely Wen Qing. The kid merely tilted his head and answered he had never formerly met “Miss. Wen” and that he only knew who she was from what the woman’s younger brother had told him about her.

MianMian shrugged and smiled at him.

To which HuaiSang asked him what they could do for him and XuanYu... just... stopped working. Saying that he had wondered if he could do something for them instead. Apparently, Wen Ning had let it slip they were currently understaffed and needed a hand to deliver their sweets.

Delighted, MianMian set him to work, no matter how many times HuaiSang assured her they didn’t need to force the kid to help them... also because they didn’t actually have the means to pay him in kind. But XuanYu refused money altogether, simply asking them to let him help.

To their amusement (and horror) XuanYu didn’t know how to ride a bicycle, so he insisted on covering the deliveries by foot in the neighborhood instead.

HuaiSang called XiChen on the phone that same evening, asking him to give the kid some slack the following day. And maybe buy him some balm for blisters as well.

Jin Ling was young but he wasn’t stupid. Turning three had made him wiser, he knew as much. So he knew XuanYu was magical. He just did.

His pretty-gege talked with stuffed animals, always wore nice things, and kept in his satchel bag a vial filling up with magical candies every time he did something nice for others. A-Ling had seen it with his own eyes, that time XuanYu had put a plaster on his scrapped knee and blew on it to make the pain go away: the golden candy had appeared in the bottle out of nowhere and XuanYu had asked him to keep the secret.

And A-Ling may have been young, but he wasn’t a snitch.

No sir.

ZiXuan eventually stumbled upon their new tenant even though YanLi had tried everything in her power to prevent it. He was very displeased with her: taking a scrawny kid in, cutting his rent in half merely because he couldn’t afford to pay the room in full. Utter nonsense.

No matter how much this kid XuanYu praised A-Ling’s personality or YanLi’s cooking, no matter how much he smiled and made himself look accommodating and unthreatening. ZiXuan didn’t work pro bono even at the firm, let alone for his wife’s business.

Yet, when he asked to be let inside the kid’s room to formally discuss the terms of his contract (and tell him to pack his things and leave at the end of summer), ZiXuan was left speechless. There was no bed, no table or chairs. The fridge wasn’t humming and the AC wasn’t working. The only things he could see were the younger man’s clothes neatly folded in his open suitcase or hanging by the window to dry. No books, no snacks, no nothing.

Usually tenants brought their things in right off the bat, their stuff mailed in within a week after moving in. YanLi was very particular about it, she would have not overlooked something like that. But maybe she had been too busy with A-Ling these past few months and hadn’t noticed the kid was actually too poor to even breathe.

And now that he looked at him, XuanYu looked suspiciously skinny.

Was he sleeping on the floor? Didn’t he have covers for the colder season? Was his fridge broken, empty, or -gods forbid- purposely left with no power because the kid couldn’t afford the electricity bill?

“Do you actually live like this?”

XuanYu didn’t answer to that, but smiled anyway. It looked sinister in a way ZiXuan couldn’t explain, afraid of the things such a young man may or may not have endured in the past. And was maybe still enduring now.

The following day ZiXuan gave the kid their spare futon they bought in Japan on their honeymoon. They never had guests anyway and they could afford to pay for a tenant’s electricity bill every now and then, they weren’t poor.

Certainly YanLi would have agreed with him on the matter.

JinGy saw it. He did! He wasn’t lying! Xuan-ge was there, surrounded by darkness and shadows, looking over the children during their nap time, only a sliver of light coming from the door left ajar... casting shadows on half of his pretty face.

And he saw him reviving that stuffed black rabbit he always had on him.

The rabbit just rose on his hind legs and turned his head up and started whispering things to Xuan-ge, who nodded every now and then in deep though.

JinGyi had read about how paper-man talismans had been stuff of legends in the past. His books spoke of ancient times in which even corpses could be brought back to life. How even animals could turn into godly beasts if enough resentful energy polluted them. But he would have never thought magic could actually be real and so easy to play with.

And Xuan-ge had looked nothing but beautiful as he was talking to the stuffed animal, humming softly under his breath.

When Jiang Cheng dropped out of university for the second time, YanLi didn’t say anything and instead welcomed him back in his old room. So much for enrolling in law school at twenty-three, uh? ZiXuan would have been disappointed in him like the first time that had happened in his bachelor anyway, no point in avoiding the man. It was autumn anyway: it was either going back to the apartment complex or look for a new flatmate. But the school housing had rightfully kicked him out after dropping out in the middle of the academic year, so there would have been little hope for him to find a new place anytime soon.

What he did not expect to find was a new tenant living next door.

Sleeping in front of the door, clutching a satchel bag and a fucking stuffed animal on his lap.

Jiang Cheng jolted him awake and took in the sight of his shoulder length hair, his long lashes and sleepy eyes and thought he looked ridiculous. Wearing a silly hat and moccasins, purple shadows under his eyes, a confused expression on his worn out face. When asked what the hell he was doing there, sleeping out of his room instead of inside of it, the younger man said he had forgotten his keys inside that morning.

He was clearly an idiot, so Jiang Cheng walked away and returned to his room after more than a year away. If someone asked him who had rung YanLi to bring the spare keys to help the idiot he would have shrugged at them and shut the door in their face.

He didn’t have time for that, he had to think how to ask XiChen to let him back to work at the school the following day.

A-Qing had seen many things in life, met many horrible people, dealt with the scum of the scum... but she had yet to meet XuanYu.

A menace. A hurricane. A fool. The amount of times she had had to scoop him up from the ground after he had clumsily slipped on invisible bananas and such should have earned her a honorary title for outstanding citizen. It’s been months since his arrival and the kids had already learned to make way whenever they saw him. He inspired fear even in their tiny heads, honestly. What a fellow teaching assistant, really.

She was just there to score brownie points for his electives and internship program to become a social service worker, that was true. But she cared about the kids enough to know she had to do something about that. The children loved XuanYu and they were this fucking close to either worship him like a small deity or criminal and something ought to be done.

The last thing she would have expected to see, however, was Jiang Cheng coming back so soon. Crawling back from university to ask to work there, wagging his tail like the lovesick dog he was. She could easily imagine what the older student would have said to XiChen, something on the line of “you know goddamn well I’m not doing it for the money. I grew up here, I don’t want to see this place crumbling down. I’m definitely not doing it because I’m in love with you and seeing you sad makes me want to gag.”

Well, maybe the last part could be considered artistic license from her part, but judging by what she could overhear behind XiChen’s office door... yep. She had definitely nailed the part about being fond of the ex-orphanage and for the rest... the sentiment was there. The pining bastard.

“Do you need anything, A-Qing?”, XuanYu asked her out of no-fucking-where, startling her as she pretended to dust off the floor very close to a door. Cheek-plastered-on-it kind of close.

“Nothing. Mind your business,” she answered, flustered as fuck.

XuanYu couldn’t be that naive, he knew what he was fucking doing. His creepy little smile so similar to the one the debt collect always had on his face. No wonder XiChen had fallen for such a tricky bitch.

“Then will you help me find JinGyi? He doesn’t want me to help him with his project for the festival and went into hiding again.”

There, that smile and knowing gaze. Judging poser. He looked much older than his alleged twenty years. He knew what he was fucking doi...

“You?!”

Jiang Cheng’s honest-to-gods screech pulled A-Qing out of her thoughts. She turned and had to witness XiChen amiably patting Jiang Cheng on the head as their boss explained him how XuanYu worked there.

“It’s been almost six months now, he’s a very valuable kid and helped out around here while you were studying.”

Jiang Cheng was both livid and red with longing, because his touch-starved ass was all over that hand patting him platonically on the head. He was also angry, which was default for him... but there was something else underneath. Something promising in the way he stared XuanYu down.

Maybe A-Qing could win some candy by betting with the kids about such unexpected turn of events.

ZiZhen believed A-Yi. If his friend had told him the new teacher assistant was a witch then he was right. So they had started researching witches at the school, but only found a couple of colored books on the matter, mostly useless. All but one, telling the story of a nanny called Mary Poppins... some western thing.

But everything checked for the most part. The hat was there, every day a different one, but ultimately never leaving XuanYu’s head. The umbrella was not, but both him and A-Yuan had seen their gege with a parasol once and that was enough. His satchel contained infinite amount of things, from sweets to possessed stuffed animals, like a qiankun bag from the legends! He talked with things as if he could control them.

Well, even the teacher sometimes tried to convince the printer to work with sweet words, gently coaxing it back to life... maybe that was just how adults functioned. Even his dad would ask the fridge where his favorite cake had disappeared sometimes. Adults were weird.

Fuck Lanling. Rain day and night, autumn planning everyone’s demise by flooding every bloody year. Xue Yang was over it.

He took a random umbrella from the rack by the door of the convenience store and left without a second thought, already wondering what he could say to convince XingChen to offer him dinner somewhere new. The man wasn’t married anymore after all, so Xue Yang could technically have his way with him now, right?

“Excuse me!”

Xue Yang was not in the mood for people calling him out on his bullshit that night, but he turned anyway and saw the weirdest thing. A young man roughly his age, maybe a year or so younger, drenched from head to toe after rushing to him. He was panting, clutching a plastic bag full of cleaning supplies from the convenience store Xue Yang had just left.

“I believe you mistakenly took my umbrella,” the other said, pretty face framed by wet hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks.

Amused, Xue Yang shut the clear plastic umbrella he had “mistakenly taken” and held it at arm’s length by the handle, directing the pointy edge to the other like a sword. Hell if he was going to get wet himself, he needed to prove something to the idiot. He could handle a bit of rain for the sake of being dramatic.

“You want it back?” Xue Yang asked, rising his chin and arching an eyebrow at the other. The man nodded, holding his now wet beret in place on top of his head as if he was more worried about it falling on the ground than keeping his crown dry.

“I knew it was someone else’s when I took it.”

“But...?”

“And what’ll you give me back for it? What are you gonna do about it?”

This should have taught him not to mess with him: he didn’t even have to use his business tone to make the other take a step back. Meng Yao, the bastard, had taught him smiles went a long way in dealing with stupid people after all.

“Right, if I take it from you... you won’t have one to go back home with.”

Uh?

“Wait here. I’ll go buy you one at the convenience store. I’ll be back.”

Uh??

The idiot actually run back to the store and purchased him a fucking umbrella. And Xue Yang was twice as stupid because he waited for him to come back, startled as he was. The idiot was smiling megawatt bright when he came back as well, what the fuck?

The sick bastard extended the clear plastic umbrella to him like Xue Yang had done earlier, but he held it by the middle, as if surrendering his weapon. It was fairly similar to the one Xue Yang had stolen anyway, why bother asking for his umbrella back?

“Did your dead mother give this particular one to you or something?”

The bite in his words only mildly deterred the other man, who pressed his lips together before forcing an even bigger smile on his face.

“No. It’s pretty cheap. But it’s mine. It’s the first thing I bought with my money.”

Xue Yang left after that. With the stolen umbrella. Because he was still a scumbag and not a sentimental asshole. But he was very quiet that evening when XingChen treated him to some fancy takeout on his couch while lovingly drying Xue Yang’s hair with a towel.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Qin Su worried over Jiang Cheng. He was her best worker, but she knew for a fact that he had a million part-time jobs in town and she didn’t want to overwork him. She also knew he would give all of his hard-earned money to XiChen anyway. All to pay a stupid debt. The huge lovesick idiot.

Was he the fastest delivery driver? Yes. Was he the most well behaved of his staff? Not even close. But he was respectful enough to work over his issues and she trusted him with doing his job at the end of the day.

So when she found a young man in a frilly outfit waiting for her on the lobby of her shop asking for Jiang Cheng... well, she was pleasantly surprised.

He introduced himself as XuanYu and held a lunch box in his hands, saying Jiang Cheng had forgotten it at home. Which left A-Su properly impressed. How could a man as angry as Jiang Cheng secure himself such a lovely person was beyond her comprehension, honestly.

He was adorable and she wanted to be his sister like, yesterday.

But when Jiang Cheng came back from a delivery, entering the dumpling shop with his helmet still on, he stared XuanYu down and told him off right off the bat.

“Not you again,” he said, to A-Su’s utter confusion, “Can’t you take a fucking hint? I’m already avoiding you at work. I don’t want to be your friend.”

Something akin to hurt painted XuanYu’s feature for a fraction of a second before he could retrieve his smile and point at the lunch box.

“Your sister asked me to give this to you on my way out. A-Ling helped making rice cakes this time and wanted to hear from you if you liked them or not.”

Qin Su could have easily missed the change in XuanYu’s voice at that, that’s how much of a good actor he was. But Jiang Cheng had no face even to feel ashamed for lashing out at the kid like that. How much older could he be from XuanYu, three years? Two? Had nobody taught him some respect?

“XuanYu, if he bullies you again you come here. Am I understood?”

Like hell she was gonna let this gem of a child slip away from Jiang Cheng’s hands.

Not in a million years.

Song Lan breathed in and out. In and out. The clear morning air surrounded him like an old friend, hugging him closely as he clutched the papers for his divorce.

XingChen had signed them in the end. Five years together were now in the past for him.

Maybe they had been too young back then, when they had taken the chance to get married the moment the government announced the change in the law for people like them. How old have they been, twenty-three? Twenty-four? Another lifetime. An existence away.

He wished he could cry. It would have been easier.

But, as he turned a corner, someone stumbled into him and sent the papers scattering on the sidewalk. Song Lan tried to save them from being dirtied on a puddle but was unsuccessful. He didn’t know why he bothered anymore. It felt like the last piece of his lover had left and Song Lan couldn’t even prevent something as simple as that. XingChen’s signature dirtied in a pool, but not enough to be washed away. What a joke.

The young man in front him bowed down, apologizing profusely, trying to save the documents at the best of his abilities. He even suggested finding a public toilet to dry the sheets under the hot air blowing machine, the silly man.

Song Lan smiled instead, reassuring him it was fine.

He was fine.

But the kid accidentally read the first few lines of the agreement before looking up at Song Lan. And where he would have expected pity, Song Lan only saw consternation instead on his pale face. It was so startling to see it, that he had to crouch back down on the ground next to the kid and reassure him everything was fine. It was just paper, it wasn’t important, he didn’t have to feel so guilty about...

“It is important. Your life is important.”

Such a dramatic sentence, uttered so vehemently, should have sounded weird to Song Lan. Especially because he disapproved of such antics in the first place. But it sounded so sincere, so earnest that he felt touched for a moment.

So he helped the kid up on his feet and asked him to walk a bit with him, to keep him company. Reserved as he was, he would have never thought possible opening up to a stranger the way he did that day. But there was something calming about the kid, almost as if he had been put on earth to soothe other people’s existence.

So he told him how his husband had fallen in love with someone else, someone much younger than them. How this had strained their marriage even if Song Lan had known all along his husband had the ability to fall in love with more than one person at a time. But Song Lan was monogamous and would have never justified forcing his lover to suppress his feelings just to please him. So it had been Song Lan himself to call it quits and wish him all the luck in the world.

The kid had started crying at some point, without Song Lan even noticing at first.

“Why are you crying? Please no, I didn’t wan to upset you.”

“So much love. In different ways but... it’s too much. There’s so much of it, of course I’m crying for you and your loved one.”

Song Lan was many things. Too stern, too rigid, too peculiar about who could touch him or not, too cold in expressing his emotions. But he felt warm then, in front of a kid crying for him in the middle of the street, one day of late autumn.

“Thank you.”

***

XuanYu let it slip once with Mrs. Jin how little he remembered of his past.

It wasn’t a lie, he really didn’t remember what it had been of him before he had met her, asking for a room. But the kind woman just assumed he was talking about his past or youth, so he didn’t correct her on the matter.

Knowing the truth would have scared her, after all.

But he still let himself trust her that day as they sat in front of a pot of tea and he pretended to drink and eat the pastries on the low table. He didn’t need to eat or drink. He wasn’t even sure he had a digestive system.

“I only remember... a song.”

“A song?”

“Yes. Someone singing every night before falling asleep. I don’t think it was meant for me to hear... but my body remembers the shivers. The feeling of being loved.”

“The body remembers the weirdest things, XuanYu. You should trust it more.”

He smiled at that, wriggling his hands on the handkerchief where he had hidden the pastries from sight.

“I’m pretty sure that song wasn’t for me. My body was merely there to listen.”

YanLi looked uncomfortable at that, something scary painting her features.

“Maybe I was eavesdropping,” he reassured her with a self-deprecating joke, not sure if that would have made her feel more at ease or not, “Maybe I was listening in, hoping such lovely words could be directed at me for once.”

Mrs. Jin sipped her tea for a long while afterwards, before finding the resolution to look up and stare him down with a serious expression.

“Unrequited feelings hurt, don’t they?”

XuanYu didn’t know what she meant by that, but he nodded anyway.

He heard something rustling in his bag and hid the sweets inside of it the moment YanLi turned to clear the table. If A-Ling heard someone munching their protests away from inside of the bag, he didn’t snitch on XuanYu and retrieved playing with Fairy on the carpeted floor next to him instead.

Lan Zhan was disappointed in him, XuanYu knew that much. They were admiring the sunset from the small balcony in their room, folding laundry.

XuanYu always wondered why Lan Zhan assumed the form of a black stuffed rabbit, of all things, but he didn’t want to pry. He didn’t even know his real name. The other had told him he used to be a human in his past life and that he hadn’t technically reincarnated in this lifetime. That his current form was just a mean to a goal, that he could use it to guide XuanYu and help him better that way without expending much spiritual energy.

He told him someone dear to him taught him how to manipulate paper-man talismans in his previous life. How similar the process had been to move around in a stuffed animal’s body. How convenient.

XuanYu believed he secretly loved it, even if Lan Zhan would have never said as much. He already talked very little to begin with.

“You told her you don’t remember your past.”

“That I did.”

“Don’t do it again”

XuanYu folded the last towel on his lap and then let Lan Zhan take a nap on it. He felt silly having to take showers and pretend to be a normal human being. He hated inconveniencing the Jins with him, accepting their bedding and paid kitchen appliances and so on. But if he wanted to accomplish his mission he had to make an effort to look normal... instead of spirited away from another world or maybe simply another era.

“I won’t do it again, don’t worry Lan Zhan.”

Lan Zhan was disappointed, but he was also patient to a fault.

Sure, it would have been much appreciated if Mo XuanYu didn’t lose him around every other day. This time the younger man had forgotten to pick him up from the floor where he had been reading stories to the children at the kindergarten.

But Lan Zhan was also a stuffed animal now, so it wasn’t like he could move around and risk being seeing by normal humans. His body was a vessel and any damage would have had repercussions on his soul as well.

What to do.

He tried not to panic when he felt someone picking him up from the floor after an hour or so. He silently prayed for them not to be A-Qing: even in this life she was too smart for her own good and he couldn’t risk being found out so soon. Mo XuanYu wasn’t even halfway to complete his mission and Lan Zhan couldn’t...

“I’m sure A-Yu is looking for you, little guy. What are doing all the way back here?”

It was always difficult to hear his older brother’s voice in this life. To see his face, to notice how sad he was even in this new reincarnation of his.

Lan Zhan didn’t move a single muscle as XiChen dusted him off and put him in his apron front pocket as he looked for “A-Yu”.

In order to give a second chance to Mo XuanYu, Lan Zhan had sacrificed any possibility to ever reincarnate until his mission was accomplished. So XiChen didn’t have a younger brother in this lifetime and he would have not had one for a while. Lan Zhan missed him, but they had to wait for a bit more.

They still had three months to fill the bottle the King of Hell had entrusted Mo XuanYu with. Then he would have entered the list for reincarnation once more and everything will have been fine in the end.

Lan Zhan owed the kid his life, so he trusted him.

No matter what.

XuanYu remembered the boy who had stolen his umbrella. He remembered him well enough to recognize him when he found him crawling on the floor, a stab wound in his belly, one winter night.

Panicked, he asked Lan Zhan what they could do as he instinctively pressed the wound with his bare hands. Lan Zhan didn’t dare move not to attract attention on himself. The other man snarled out at XuanYu, asking him why did he even bother, seemingly recognizing him.

“I took your fucking umbrella. Hate me and leave me alone.”

“Ridiculous.”

Lan Zhan would have been proud of him for that remark, but XuanYu was too scared to think about it. He didn’t have a phone and he didn’t even know the number for emergencies. He wasn’t even qualified to be a teacher. How had he survived until then. He was useless and stupid and...

“What the fuck?” Jiang Cheng’s voice came in a whisper behind him.

What a sorry view the older man had to take in that night: a pool of blood staining otherwise clean clothes, a moaning boy on the ground in restless pain, a crying mess of a sad excuse of a human pressing on a throbbing wound next to him.

Jiang Cheng muttered something about the boy being one of Meng Yao’s men, that they should leave him there to die for all he cared.

The man under XuanYu barked back, telling him he had tried to “convince the idiot of the same”. But XuanYu was horrified by what he had just heard.

“People die for nothing. People die for fucking nothing. You don’t leave someone behind just because you fucking hate them.”

XuanYu has never cursed in this brief, borrowed life of his. Maybe spending so much time with Jiang Cheng had rubbed some of his habits off on him in the end.

Startled, Jiang Cheng seemed to agree with him because he fished out his phone and called an ambulance right away.

The stabbed man laughed at that.

Lan Zhan was clutched in XuanYu’s hands as they waited in the corridor of a badly lit hospital. The kid was crying, hard. He must have remembered how his family in Mo Manor had mistreated him in the past, how easily his own relatives had starved him off just out of spite. How already impossibly emaciated he had been when he had sacrificed his body for Wei Ying, to bring him back in a weakened vessel just to seek revenge. Just to let his hatred run free.

Such cruelty had earned him nothing but distrust from the hell judges, who sentenced him to never be reincarnated again. Only when Lan Zhan had ascended to heaven -many centuries after reaching immortality- he had been able to make them relent.

If Mo XuanYu could prove to be a good human being during a trial time of one year on planet earth, filling a vial with good actions in the form of golden gems, then they would have considered Lan Zhan’s proposal. Mo XuanYu would have atoned his sin and be granted a new life, a clean record, and a second chance at happiness.

Seeing someone almost die in front of him must have awaken something ugly in him. His stained hands, the iron stench in the air. All that blood... like the last thing he had most probably seen in his previous life before his body sacrifice. A scarlet array under his feet, another soul replacing his in his own body.

Lan Zhan let himself be held tightly in Mo XuanYu’s hands that night at the hospital.

And hugged back without anyone else noticing.

Xiao XingChen. That was the name of the man showing up at the kindergarten one week later. XuanYu had never seen him before, but the man hugged him in front of the kids, alerting both XiChen and Jiang Cheng.

“Thank you,” the tall man said in between tears, holding him tight.

“I don’t understand. I...”

“You saved A-Yang. Thank you.”

XuanYu pressed his lips together tightly at that, so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to say. His fingertips hurting with sometimes akin to electricity the more he let himself be held so fiercely by the other man.

He started crying in earnest only after the man had left, surrounded by the children who worried and fussed over him. He fell asleep with them during nap time and when he woke up he found Jiang Cheng placing a quilt over him.

Caught red handed, the older man feigned disinterest in the beginning... but then he sat down next to him. Just like he had done in the hospital one week ago.

“Did you see someone die before?” Jiang Cheng asked then, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, “You had such a strong... reaction to my words. It was insensitive of me. I apologize for angering you. I’ll better myself.”

XuanYu didn’t answer at that.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to sacrifice yourself to hatred and revenge. How much it had scarred him to be brought back to life, but only as a worn out set of robes on top of someone else’s soul. How distant he had felt when the Yiling Patriarch had inhabited his body and had let himself be touched by someone else.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood what it meant to be touched in the flesh but be utterly unreachable as a soul. Or how much it hurt to become an empty body filled by someone foreign and new. Someone who could wear his skin better than him.

Jiang Cheng would have never understood. And thank all the gods for that.

So XuanYu... Mo XuanYu kept quiet and smiled instead.

Lan Zhan didn’t trust Jiang Cheng. He hadn’t in the past and he wasn’t gonna start now. Wei Ying would have been so disappointed in him for thinking badly of his baby brother, but there was little Lan Zhan could do about that.

Wei Ying wasn’t there to judge him for it.

Mo XuanYu would wake up every morning and wash himself, get dressed and tidy up the room before leaving. He would fix his appearance in a mirror Young Lady Jiang had gifted him in autumn, making sure his hat was still in place.

“What would happen if I were to...?”

“You must keep your hat on... even when you sleep. You know this much.”

“I wear a headband to bed.”

“And what of it?”

“It’s... silly.”

“Nobody can see you in your sleep. Why the sudden worry?”

Mo XuanYu said nothing in response to that, but Lan Zhan knew. The kid had never worried too much about his appearance aside from looking proper and well dressed. He had never fussed over his features, but recently he had taken the habit to walk dangerously close to makeup stores and check various displays at the convenience store close by. Lan Zhan knew Mo XuanYu had remembered his past... how he had quickly realized he was already an adult. With needs and desires.

But now a brand new reincarnation of Jiang WanYin would wait for him every morning to walk to work together. Now Jiang Cheng acted pleasantly enough to be considered kind and doting to someone starved of affection like Mo XuanYu had always been. Which wasn’t planned, it had never been.

Lan Zhan didn’t like where this was going.

He didn’t like it at all.

Nie HuaiSang came to bring a cake for XuanYu one day or so before the end of the year, snow sticking to his hair and flushed cheeks.

“I don’t know when your birthday is... so I’m pretty sure I’m late to the game. But I wanted to thank you for helping me and MianMian that one time. So I made a cake for you. I hope you like strawberries.”

Mo XuanYu had no idea if he liked them or not. He couldn’t even eat.

He started crying in the middle of his room, where HuaiSang had placed the boxed cake on top of his low table.

Panicked, HuaiSang jumped up and out of the room to alert Jiang Cheng next door. But upon seeing the other man’s worried expression XuanYu cried even harder.

“What did you do to him, you bastard?”

“I’m not the one who used to prank people all the time. Grow up!”

“You clearly did something horrible to him for...”

“A-Cheng we’re not twelve anymore. Who do you take me for?”

XuanYu took his chance to stuff his face with cake, gulping it down bit by bit even if he knew he didn’t have the necessary organs to process it without vomiting it all out in an hour or so. He had tried many times to hold food down to no avail. His body rejecting it as if it was poisonous and dangerous.

He had tried so many times... to practice. To be able to appreciate YanLi’s generous cooking, to help A-Ling and the children at school prep their lunches and maybe... maybe to eat with Jiang Cheng every now and then.

Nie HuaiSang hugged him and patted his head, confused but too scared to ask for an explanation. Mo XuanYu smiled at him and lied, saying his cake was the best he had ever eaten. It wasn’t the best. It was simply the first.

He had no way to compare it with anything else, really.

Wen Ning had heard about his ��stomachache” from XiChen, who had known all about it from YanLi and Jiang Cheng. So it shouldn’t have been a surprise for XuanYu when he saw the older boy in front of his apartment complex the last day of the year.

But it was a surprise.

“Can we talk for a bit?” Wen Ning asked, holding his umbrella up for XuanYu to walk beside him, protecting him from the icy snow.

They walked to the nearest park, sitting under the gazebo to watch the snow falling down. Their heavy coats keeping them warm, despite the cold.

They used to take long walks back from the kindergarten with A-Yuan after school, since the Wens lived close to XuanYu. Before Jiang Cheng came back anyway.

Wen Ning looked uncomfortable, fidgeting with his fingers as he tried to find the right words. He surprised XuanYu by telling him how, in the past, he had suffered from an eating disorder and had been hospitalized for a while in his teens. How worried his sister and their grandma had been for him, how much they helped him in his recovery. How alone he had felt for years still, no matter how loved he was.

“A-Yuan told me he never saw you eat. So I was wondering if you needed help.”

It wasn’t the case, but XuanYu knew he meant well. Telling him everything was fine would have only worried him more, so he tried to explain an half-truth that could satisfy him. Saying it was difficult for him to process food, that in the past he had suffered from malnutrition and now he had digestive issues.

He was talking about his past life, but he figured that could work as well.

When they parted ways in front of the apartment complex, Wen Ning asked to hold XuanYu’s hands for a bit. He cradled them carefully, as if they were precious. His slender fingers cupping XuanYu’s smaller palms almost reverently.

“I know you don’t feel the same about me. But I’ll ask you to look after yourself anyway. Not out of obligation for me... but out of respect for yourself, if nothing else.”

The moment Wen Ning let go of his hands, Jiang Cheng stepped out of the front door of the building and saw them.

He said nothing and walked away after stepping out of the gate.

Lan Zhan would have very much liked to flip a finger at Jiang WanYin’s forehead. Hard. Wei Ying would have done the same, he was sure.

Wei Ying would have also smacked some sense in his baby brother, forcing him to face his feelings and take responsibility for what he was doing to poor Mo XuanYu.

Who was currently waiting for the other man’s return like a dog by his room balcony, surveying the front courtyard like a bird of prey from above.

Lan Zhan tried to coax the kid inside, reminding him snow was still falling down and that his beanie was slipping away. He tried to be gentle about it, knowing how much XuanYu had grown resentful of the hats he had to constantly wear.

But the younger man simply shrugged, saying he wanted to wait for another five minutes. Just one more. Just to make sure.

Jiang Cheng didn’t come back that night.

And Mo XuanYu cried in his sleep clutching the half-empty vial to his chest.

Lan Zhan spent the night watching over him, singing to him the song he had written for Wei Ying. He snuggled close to XuanYu and made sure his wide headband was covering the crown of his head, before pressing himself to the other’s forehead.

He never stopped singing.

Wishing he could take all the pain away.

YanLi, A-Yuan and even ZiXuan knocked on his door to greet him into the new year, despite how XuanYu should have been the one to pay his respects to his landlords.

But they asked him to visit the funeral home with them instead, to say their thanks to YanLi’s parents with offers and flowers.

He dressed in his best clothes, having never been in what seemed to be a modern version of the ancestral halls of his childhood in a past life. The establishment was fairly sterile, with shelves filled with plaques and pictures instead of wooden inscriptions on an altar. The lot of them bowed and said their thanks, chatting with the late Jiangs almost as if they had never left. YanLi apologized to her mother for Jiang Cheng’s absence that year like any other year, while ZiXuan told his father-in-law how they would have visited the Jin ancestors during Chūnjié to make it fair.

XuanYu looked at them and barely kept himself from crying.

On their way back, YanLi explained her parents had died when she was still twelve and Jiang Cheng was merely six. How they had lived in the orphanage run by XiChen’s mother and made friends with the boy, who was YanLi’s classmate. How the siblings stayed there until YanLi came of age and got custody of her baby brother. ZiXuan’s family of lawyers had helped her pro bono and that was how she had met the man and fallen in love with him. Even if it had taken a while for ZiXuan to notice her at first, preoccupied with university and law school as he had been at the time. But the Jins helped her with the inheritance left by the late Madame Yu: the apartment complex where they currently lived.

Watching them explaining their past in such detail moved XuanYu deeply. Feeling as if they wanted to make him part of their family by filling in the gaps for him.

That was still his older brother after all and those were still his sister-in-law and his beloved nephew and he... he loved them. He had missed them so, so much.

And he was about to leave them again soon.

Wen Qing finally showed herself up one day at the park, when Mo XuanYu was taking Fairy out for an evening walk. She approached him by telling the younger man she had assisted in the surgery Xue Yang had undergone some time back.

Lan Zhan (hiding in the kid’s coat pocket) could see how startled the kid was at the mention of the criminal, but he decided to trust this version of Lady Wen as he would have done in the past.

Wei Ying cared deeply for her, after all.

Whatever truths she was about to entrust Mo XuanYu with, Lan Zhan knew the kid could take it.

He hoped as much, at least.

Jiang Cheng came back only for Chinese New Year. Saying he had stayed at XiChen’s since the winter break allowed them to take it easy and figure some stuff out for the following school year.

It hurt to know where he had been all along, but XuanYu braved a smile anyway. He knew how much Jiang Cheng cared for the older man, how much he wanted to save the school from the debt collector. How much he didn’t love XuanYu back.

So he let himself cry one last time before waking up one morning and deciding he had had enough.

He talked with Lan Zhan, asking him to tell him all about Wei WuXian and their love. If XuanYu’s sacrifice had allowed them to be happy as they deserved in the end. If Lan Zhan hated him now, for forcing him away from his loved one, who was currently waiting for him to come back to heaven.

Mo XuanYu knew the couple had sacrificed their chance at reincarnation to allow him to seek a second lifetime for himself. He knew Wei Ying watched over them from up above, waiting for Lan Zhan to secure a new life for the kid.

They talked all day and then well into the night.

By dawn Mo XuanYu had decided what to do.

XuanYu properly met Meng Yao one day of early spring, when flowers weren’t yet brave enough to poke their way out and greet the sun. The man was dressed in black, his hair cut short, a sigarette between his lips as he waited patiently for the kindergarten to open.

It was XuanYu’s duty to open that morning, so he was the one to greet the man.

Upon hearing his voice, Meng Yao immediately recognized him.

“There you are. I was waiting for you.”

“Me?”

“You’re the kid who answered the phone. And the one who helped my subordinate back in winter, right?”

His dimples were so deep, his face so pleasant.

Mo XuanYu remembered him from another lifetime. He remembered how much he had cared for his older brother Jin GuangYao. How hurt he had felt when the other had lied and accused him of harassment just to get rid of him.

But this was a new life and Meng Yao was just a man.

Who happened to have been married with XiChen for a while before turning to a life filled with crime and gang violence.

Wen Qing had told him Meng Yao had initially tried to live far away from his adoptive father Wen RuoHan. All for the sake of marrying XiChen and keep him safe. But XiChen’s mother still had had a debt to pay for the construction of the orphanage, a price too high for her to pay with her poor health and delicate disposition. A debt that XiChen had inherited from her when she had died.

That was why Meng Yao had left him: to go back to his father and ask him to handle the debt himself, supplicating him to overlook such small issue and let him dry XiChen out of every penny and cent instead.

Wen Qing may have learned this only from the gossiping running in her family, with the Wen Clan being as big as it was, but she was pretty sure of what she had told XuanYu. That Meng Yao had simply faked having fallen out of love with XiChen to protect him from his adoptive father and his cruelty. That XiChen still loved him and was waiting for him to fight alongside him instead.

Mo XuanYu knew all of this.

So now he could act and fulfill his mission.

“I want to pay the debt XiChen owes you.”

“You are full of surprises, XuanYu. And how do you plan to do that?”

“I can do many things.”

“You’re very pretty, you can make good money out of it.”

XuanYu considered his words before shaking his head.

“It’s not something I can do.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I’ll solve everything.”

“I’m all ears.”

“But you’ll have to stop making XiChen worry so much.”

“That’s not how business work...”

“Lie to me. Give your word and I’ll... I will solve everything.”

Meng Yao humored him and nodded.

Then and only then, Mo XuanYu took his hat off.

Lan Zhan had watched the entire scene unfold before his eyes without intervening, trusting Mo XuanYu with such an important choice. He took in the sight of the beautiful spiritual light shining brightly on top of XuanYu’s head like a crown.

His soul in full display, its energy so raw it had slowed down time all around them.

Lan Zhan turned around and looked at XiChen, who had just turned a corner and had been walking towards XuanYu to greet him good morning. Frozen in time, his older brother’s face still looked peaceful... simply because he had had no time to notice Meng Yao’s presence quite yet.

Lan Zhan turned once more and saw Jiang WanYin making his way in a rush towards them, surely to protect XuanYu from Meng Yao. When did he arrive? His features trapped in a perpetual frown, scared for the one he truly loved in this lifetime.

Then, Lan Zhan looked up at Mo XuanYu and saw him taking the bottle only half filled with gold... which symbolized his goodwill and generous spirit.

“Will this be enough to grant a wish, Lan Zhan?”

When XuanYu said his name like that he sounded so much like his Wei Ying, full of hope and love.

“It depends on the wish, A-Yu.”

“I reckon it’s not enough for a new reincarnation, eh?”

“It’s enough to save a life... but not yours.”

XuanYu looked crestfallen, but he persevered still.

The bottle transformed into a bag filled with money and XuanYu made his way to XiChen and left it at his feet before smiling up at his mentor and employer.

“I cannot rewrite the past, but maybe I can plan a better future for you.”

Still smiling, XuanYu slowly walked over to Jiang Cheng and said his farewells.

Then he crouched down and took Lan Zhan in his hands, kissing him goodbye on the head affectionately.

“Erase me well, Lan Zhan,” he whispered then.

Before disappearing into thin air.

***

Wei Ying had agreed with him, suggesting the idea himself.

In the end the King of Hell had granted Lan Zhan’s request and offered Mo XuanYu a second chance anyway. Since this new self-sacrifice had been fueled by positive emotions instead of anger and despair, the hell judges had considered the atonement fulfilled and put the kid’s name back on the reincarnation list.

Twenty years had past and many things had changed.

For starters, the kid’s last name wasn’t Mo anymore, but Nie. The boy had, in fact, born into Nie MingJue’s family and had lived overseas in Japan for a while before moving back to Lanling when XuanYu turned twenty. Nie HuaiSang had met him many times during summer vacations and other festivities, visiting his brother and his wife every chance he had gotten to dote on his cute nephew XuanYu.

Nie MingJue had done a remarkable job in protecting him from harm. So, by the time their little family had decided to move close to HuaiSang, XuanYu had become a well adjusted adult with a brilliant future ahead of him.

Nobody remembered him.

Or so Lan Zhan had thought.

Apparently, he had forgotten to wipe Jin Ling’s memories thoroughly. So, when The Nie family had come to greet HuaiSang’s friends YanLi and ZiXuan, A-Ling almost had a stroke out of incredulity and happiness for being reunited with his “A-Yu”. Even if Jin Ling was now older than the pretty-gege from his memories. Even if he had spent years trying to figure out why nobody seemed to remember the weird uncle living next door to his Jiujiu years back.

XiChen and Meng Yao had solved their problems and had started running the school together right after Wen RuoHan sudden and mysterious disappearance. The man had many enemies after all.

A-Yuan had grown up into a fine young man, someone Wei Ying would have certainly been proud of, working with his cousin Wen Ning at the local botanical garden while his friends still studied in university.

Nie HuaiSang had married Qin Su and opened a restaurant with her.

MianMian and Wen Qing had decided to live together and adopt a bunch of dogs just because.

Xiao XingChen and Xue Yang still lived together while Song Lan had found his way back to them after talking it out with the couple.

A-Qing was probably running some sketchy business in social services to protect kids from horrible families.

Lan Zhan was still, unfortunately, a stuffed rabbit. Following XuanYu in his new life in the most unexpected of ways. In the form of the first present the boy’s uncle had gifted him in childhood. If Wei Ying had pulled a string or two from heaven to make that happen, well, Lan Zhan himself was none the wiser. The only thing he knew was that XuanYu had always taken him with him in all his travels even if he didn’t know he could speak. Lan Zhan had preferred not to reveal his nature and let the kid have a normal childhood. Especially since he had no memories of his past as a tenant in Jiang YanLi’s house. Nor of his life as a cultivator.

Wei Ying had agreed they could wait to be reunited again. The both of them wanting to look over XuanYu for a little longer before getting their own chance at reincarnation. They had all eternity to be together again... they could definitely wait a bit more for the kid.

All was well.

Aside from the other person whose mind Lan Zhan had conveniently forgot to wipe clean of any memory of XuanYu.

In his defense, Lan Zhan had tried to make Jiang Cheng forget. But something about XuanYu must have touched him so deeply... that Lan Zhan had not been able to do much about it. The kid’s smiles and clumsy antics would always linger in the back of the other’s mind no matter how much he tried to ignore them.

Coming back from his job at ZiXuan’s firm, exhausted and vulnerable, Jiang Cheng decided to visit his sister the same day Nie MingJue had brought his family there. So he was particularly weak to the sight of a bright, soft XuanYu when YanLi introduced her younger brother to their guests.

To Lan Zhan’s absolute delight, Jiang Cheng immediately bowed down to a scary looking Nie MingJue and asked his son’s hand in marriage.

Yes, grovel to this precious boy and learn your place.

XuanYu only tilted his head at that weird man bowing to his parents and smiled.

His laughter ringing up to the sky, where Wei Ying was still listening.

From where he would have kept watching.

[I worked so hard on this please reblog]

[kobato means “little dove” I thought it was cute since XuanYu is a magpie! + I wanted MXY a chance at life and for once this is a reversal-sacrifice from WWX’s part and I think it’s neat.]

[JC would be 43 or so... which yikes. but this is all I could do. I don’t like huge age gaps but at least everyone is a consenting adult, okay?]

[the thing that started this was like “what if LXC was an only child and LWJ did not reincarnate bc he’s still in the afterlife or something? then the entire thing escalated so...yeah.]

now I will cry for ages. I worked so hard on this good god D:

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs/au: clamp #mdzs/au: kindergarten #mdzs/au: kobato #mdzs/au: modern #mo xuanyu #jiang cheng #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #RAREPAIR ALERT #I AM TRASH I WILL SHIP JC WITH A ROCK FOR ALL I CARE #xiyao #tw eating disorders mentioned #wangxian #yucheng #chengyu

5 notes · View notes

5sospank · 5 years ago

Text

all these years - ashton one shot

Word Count: 7,407

Rating: NSFW

Keywords: smut, bestfriend!ashton

Summary: As Luke’s little sister, you grew up with him and his best friends - especially Ashton. He was always around. However, when they left home to tour the world as a band, you lost your brother and someone you had grown to love too much for your own good. A planned trip to visit them on tour is just what you needed.

A/N: so this didn’t exactly turn out as planned, but i’m okay with it. not my favorite thing i’ve written but i hope you guys enjoy :) trying to get back into writing more this summer.

From before you could even remember, Ashton was always around. His honey colored hair and jade eyes were a constant staple in your memories. Whether it was passing by in the school hallway, hanging in your basement during your brother Luke’s band practice, or summer days spent getting drunk on the beach, Ashton was there for it all. You had watched each other grow up for years. They were fond times of learning, laughing, and wondering what you would do without one another.

But when Ashton and Luke’s band began to take over the world, you eventually had to live without both of them. It was bittersweet to lose the people you spent all your time with. You often had to remind yourself it was so they could live out their dreams everyday. Still, it hurt when they missed graduations, birthdays, and too many holidays to count. In the beginning, they made time for you when they could, but as time went on, you really only saw your brother on his breaks.

The distance bothered you more than you wanted it to. Years had gone by and they were still on fire. You saw their faces everywhere; billboards, award shows, interviews, magazines, social media. You had certainly moved on from those high school days, but sometimes, those feelings and memories crept up on you.

You supposed that’s what had you reaching out to your brother to schedule some sort of visit.

“You wanna come on tour?” Luke repeated over the phone. Confusion was etched into his voice. You could make out loud background noise, as if it was a bad time and he was busy.

“Well...yeah,” You said, defeated. “It’s been a long time since we’ve done something fun. I thought making the trip would be nice, you know? I can take time off work.”

“Whatever you wanna do, Y/N. You’re always welcome. Just -” Luke cursed on the other line, muttered something to someone else who you figured he was in the room with. “Just have mom reach out to my assistant, alright? She’ll get you on a plane out here whenever. I’m sure Ash would like to see you too.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sudden sense of excitement, even if Luke’s answer wasn’t too enthusiastic. The thought of ditching your normal life to spend a few days on the road with your brother and his band sounded too good at the moment. Even if it was a bit spontaneous, the plans were too enticing to pass up. Plus, there was the mere chance that Ashton would be happy to see you, too.

“Okay, Luke,” you replied. “I guess I’ll see you soon.”

One week later, you were checking in to the nicest hotel in Amsterdam.

It was your first time there. Before, you had only seen it in movies and photos, and on Luke and Ashton’s Instagrams, of course. The accents were lovely and the weather was obscenely perfect once you arrived; cool fall air and changing leaves, with locals buttoned up in long coats and hats.

It was just past dinner and the change of time zones left you a bit foggy. You had never dealt well with jet lag and were thinking of ordering room service and staying in for the night. First, you had to head over to Luke’s suite and say hello.

After checking his room info, you slipped on a sweater and headed his way. You weren’t surprised to see security standing outside the door. Luke and the guys usually had guards everywhere these days. They could never be too safe.

He checked your ID and let you in, seeing as you were Luke’s sister and he was expecting you. Loud music instantly greeted you and a case of beer was on the table in the suite’s entrance way, accompanied by solo cups. The decor of the suite was charming and antiquated, and floor-to-ceiling windows provided a great view of the city. Your hotel room certainly didn’t look like this.

“Luke?” You called out, stepping inside. “I’m here.”

You were met with no response. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye, and there was none other than Ashton in a pair of gray sweats and a white tank top. The sweats were slung low on his hips, his arms still scattered with beads of water from a recent shower. His hair was damp and hanging onto his forehead. You had to swallow to keep your jaw from dropping.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” He stuttered out. “Wow, hi. Luke went over to Michael’s room, but he’ll be back in a few.”

You were frozen in place. You couldn’t remember when you had last seen him and it showed in his face. His jaw was a bit harder, age etched into his features slightly. The time evidently suited him. His body was more defined, torso less boyish and lanky. You couldn’t help but stare in awe. It had been so long, yet, the feelings that overcame you were all too familiar.

“Hey,” You breathed out. “Uh, sorry. He told me to come by.”

“I know, it’s okay. That’s why I stayed back,” he said. “I missed you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Suddenly, you somewhat uncomfortable under his gaze. He was shamelessly studying you, noting how different you looked as well. Your whole lives, you had always been seen as Luke’s little sister. Some time apart seemed to separate you from that identity. He liked this new you, it seemed; a good kind of different.

You met his eyes again. “I missed you too, Ashton.”

He let out a sigh, almost as if he was unsure of what to say or do next. Instead of speaking, he waved a hand, signaling for you to follow him further into the suite. It was growing dark outside but the room was dimly lit, allowing you to make out the dips and curves and edges of Ashton’s back as you walked behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it messy. You forced yourself to look away.

“You can sit,” He said softly. “Want a beer? Or, like, a drink or something?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know if I’ll be drinking tonight, actually. I’m feeling kind of jet lagged.”

Ashton chuckled lowly, shaking his head. “C’mon, Y/N. I haven’t seen you in so long. You flew out to fucking Amsterdam. Who cares about the jet lag? Come out with us tonight.”

You watched the small smile that toyed at his lips. God, that smile. The look on his face alone was enough to get you to change your mind. That, and his words. He wanted you with them, it seemed.

And suddenly, you were back in high school, feeling that same way you always did when it came to Ashton. You wanted to be with him.

So you said yes.

Luke wasn’t nearly as excited to see you as you were to see him. He was already half drunk and complaining about the show they had to play the next day, how tired he was of being on the road. You always found it difficult to have sympathy for him.

After he had come back to the suite to you find you and Ashton staring at each other from opposite sides of the room, Luke joined in on the effort to get you to go out with them. He had boasted the idea of VIP at one of Amsterdam’s best clubs, claiming that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. You kind of agreed with him on that.

Shortly after, you found yourself sipping on a vodka Red Bull, heavy club bass pulsing in your ears. You had gotten ready for the night in record timing, but still, all the guys complained about how long you took.

The VIP section was full of people you didn’t know. Strange men lingered on the flanks of your table, accompanied by girls that Luke snuck in. One had herself stationed on Calum’s lap, nursing an old drink and whispering something in his ear. The pink and blue hues of the neon lights were almost overwhelming. You hadn’t stepped foot on the party scene since your years in college. Clearly you were a bit rusty, and it became evident to you that you were a wallflower in that moment.

“You alright?”

You felt a hand at the small of your back. The touch was comforting, innocent, yet it held so much weight. Your skin warmed at the sensation. It was Ashton.

“I’m good, yeah.” You replied with an overzealous nod once you turned to face him. “Forgot what it’s like to party with you guys.”

He rolled his eyes at your statement, glancing in Luke’s direction. “Wanna come outside with me? I need a smoke.”

You instantly took Ashton up on his offer. Any excuse to get away from your brother’s playboy tendencies was needed.

However, you were almost startled when Ashton took your hand in his, leading you through a crowd of people. He weaved his way to the side entrance of the club. The feeling of his hand on yours burned, but you ignored it, swallowed the thoughts that crept into your head.

He brought the two of you to the side of the door. The night’s cool air nipped at your skin - your outfit wasn’t doing much to keep you warm.

“Here, take my jacket.” Ashton’s stare dropped over you. He evidently saw you shiver.

“No, no, I’m fine -”

“Just take it,” Ashton interjected, shrugging the leather off his shoulders. “Really.”

Reluctantly, you took his jacket and shoved your arms through its sleeves. You knew it was undoubtedly expensive, just from the looks and feel of it. It definitely kept you warmer, however.

You stood in his jacket outside the club. The music wasn’t as loud, just a distant hum, and only a few people lingered around you. The night was dark but the lights from overhead illuminated Ashton’s features. Casts of shadows flickered over his face.

A comfortable silence formed as Ashton retrieved a lighter from his back pocket. He patted his front pockets, finding nothing, until his eyes flickered back to you.

“Cigs.” He muttered.

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he extended his arms forward, as if he was trying to hug you. Instead, he dug around in the pocket of his jacket - the one you were wearing - and pulled out his pack. The sudden proximity to him made your breath catch in your throat. His face was inches from yours until he backed away.

“I never knew you smoked.” You stated dumbly, distracting yourself from the thoughts that began to form in your mind.

“Bad habit I picked up over the years. Well, one of many.” Ashton chuckled emptily. He put a cigarette between his lips, holding his lighter up to the end. Once it was lit, he inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching with the motion.

You forced your stare away and looked down the street instead. People walked by here and there, cars passing on the road.

“You don’t smoke, do you?” Ashton questioned to fill the silence. He exhaled, then brought the cigarette up to his lips again. You found yourself hating how he made the dirty habit look so good.

“No, never.”

He hummed, bemused. “Good. You were always good.”

“I don’t know about that,” You let out a light laugh, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“That’s fair. Even though you were three years younger, you always stole the alcohol for everyone, remember?” Ashton grinned. He leaned himself up against the wall next to you.

“Mom and dad’s liquor collection definitely suffered during our high school years.”

You recalled being a teenager, back when you would have done anything to impress your brother and his friends. They would often throw parties when your parents were gone and Luke always put you in charge of the vodka thievery. It definitely got you into trouble.

“Those were the days,” Ashton murmured, clearly lost in thought. He stomped out his cigarette beneath his black boot. “And look at us now.”

“What,” You paused. “A world-renowned celebrity and a washed up college graduate, in the middle of Amsterdam, avoiding the club?”

“I wasn’t meaning that.” Ashton met your gaze. A frown graced his features.

You were unsure of what to say. You let yourself meet his eyes for a moment longer, before stepping to the side to lean on the wall next to him. His jacket engulfed you, your shoulder against his arm. His height towered over you.

“I’m not a celebrity. Not to you, at least.” Ashton added softly. “You know me.”

You let his words hang in the air between you like an echo. You turned to look at him again, ignoring the way your stomach turned at your new proximity. “Do I know you, though? It’s been so long, Ashton.”

The words you dared to say seemed to cut into him, make him bleed. His brow furrowed, a deep, smoky sigh leaving his lips. “You’ll see by the time you leave. You know me more than most.”

He stood up and didn’t wait for your reply. It was as if he knew you didn’t have one. Your conversation was over, despite the heavy feeling it left in your chest. Your comment seemed to bother him even if that wasn’t your intention.

He waited as you shrugged off his jacket and handed it back to him. He carried it over his arm, taking your hand with the other. His hand was now cold against your own from the air around.

As he led you back through the club, he ignored the invasive stares of those who recognized him. His demeanor was strong and confident, softening once he reached the comfort of his friends. He dropped your hand and replaced it with a fresh drink from a cocktail waitress. Under the neon lights, you decided you really didn’t know him - not anymore.

When you reached the hotel again, it was past three in the morning, and you felt your body sinking with exhaustion. You had been awake for too long and the time difference was really getting to you. The drinks you had downed just to tolerate the club weren’t helping, either.

Luke and Calum had left in another security car on their own, having gone home with the girls they entertained for the night. You weren’t really disappointed or surprised. Luke certainly liked to make the most of his nights out. Girls threw themselves at him and Calum - you couldn’t really blame their tendencies.

That left you stumbling into the hotel with Ashton and Michael in tow. You filed into the elevator, fishing around your bag for your room key.

“How upset would your mom be if she knew Luke was still banging a different girl in every country?” Michael broke the silence, a playful smile on his face.

You laughed at his remark. “She’s still waiting for him to bring a girl home.”

“Tell her not to hold her breath, then.” Michael replied.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, turning to glance at Ashton in confusion when he didn’t move. You did the same.

“I’m going to walk Y/N to her room.” He stated blankly. “I’ll meet you in the suite.”

Michael nodded and said good night. The doors closed and you were left alone with Ashton again. There was a thick tension that blanketed the air between you that was difficult to ignore. Still, you did your best, focusing your sight on the floor beneath your feet.

Once the elevator reached your stop, you stepped out in front of Ashton. “You didn’t have to walk me here, you know.”

“I wanted to. Luke shouldn’t leave you by yourself.”

You stopped in front of your room number, moving to unlock the door. “It’s alright. I kind of figured it would end up like this.”

“Then why’d you come?” Ashton asked. He followed you into your room without invitation. You didn’t mind.

Immediately, you kicked your heels off, sitting at the foot of the bed. Ashton stood before you, hands in his pockets, concern in his eyes as he studied your face. You recognized that expression. He was always worried about you - protective.

“I don’t know,” You sighed. “It gets old, life at home. The routine of it all.”

Ashton chuckled dryly. He sat down beside you. There was just enough distance between your figures so that your heart didn’t start beating too fast.

“You don’t understand how often I wish for a routine lately. Something constant, you know?” His voice was low.

You turned to look at him. The simple confession struck you. And it all felt so strange - sitting in an Amsterdam hotel room with Ashton, after all these years had gone by where you thought about him endlessly. He was him, but he wasn’t. He had built up this persona that was based so wholly on his career; travelling the world, putting on a brave face, performing to thousands. You found yourself understanding his confession as that sensitivity you used to know back when you were sixteen, back when you would’ve done anything for him. In that moment right there, you still would’ve done anything for him.

“There’s another reason why I came here, Ashton.” You spoke after a moment, without thinking.

He leaned back. Intrigue flashed in his light eyes. “What is it?”

“You. It’s you.”

His mouth fell agape just slightly. You went still, almost shocked at your own words, waiting for him to say anything. Do anything. But he kept quiet, his gaze on yours all the while. You grew nervous under that gaze but didn’t dare look away. The moment was too important to you. You wanted to see him.

The room stopped spinning and time stood still in that fraction of a second when he first leant forward. You had thought about this moment for years and turned it over and over in your mind. You wondered how it would happen, where it would happen - if it would ever happen. And there you were, in your Amsterdam hotel room, and it was happening. He was kissing you.

He was kissing you and you were on fire. Your skin felt hot and your lips melted against his swiftly, tasting the alcohol and cigarettes that stained his tongue. His hands cradled your face, holding you there, wanting this kiss to last forever.

But it didn’t, and you knew it wouldn’t, although it still hurt when he pulled away. You wanted to kiss him all night.

Instead, he let his thumbs slide over your cheeks, one of them swiping over your bottom lip gently. “Good night.”

You awoke the next morning, or rather, afternoon, wondering if the night before had really happened, or if it was just some sort of euphoric dream that your jet lagged brain had concocted to mess with you. The feeling that sunk into your bones left you on a high yet also an anxious wreck.

You kissed Ashton; your brother’s best friend and bandmate. Your childhood friend. Someone you grew up with. It was a strange concept to grasp, and part of you wondered if he was thinking about it in the same way you were.

After he said good night, he had just stood up and left your hotel room with one longing glance over his shoulder. You wondered if he wanted to stay, or if he left because he thought it was a mistake. Your brain was thinking in overdrive.

As you laid in bed, you texted Luke about the day’s plans. Everyone had woken up considerably late since the night before was spent drinking excessively. You thought about how Luke and Calum probably spent their mornings kicking out the girls they had won over the night before. Yikes.

Luke notified you that they would send a car from security to pick you up and bring you to the venue later. The band had already woken up early (and hungover) to soundcheck, so you were left to your own devices for the remainder of the afternoon.

You spent that time getting ready for their show, organizing your suitcase since the next day you and the band would be headed to Germany for the next gig. You were only staying for a few days, but being able to make it to more than one country was kind of thrilling to you. It had been a while since you travelled like this.

You put a bit of extra effort into your hair and make up, suddenly feeling like you had someone to impress. You tried not to get too ahead of yourself.

By the time you ordered room service and ate, you were ready to go. Your stomach was churning as you were driven to the venue and escorted into the band’s dressing room. It was usually off limits even for guests, but Luke was kind enough to cut you some slack.

When you entered the dressing room, it was a bit hectic. Your brother was sat shirtless in a chair in front of a mirror getting his hair gelled by someone on their styling team. Michael was on the phone with his fiance, and Calum was chatting with Ashton on a leather sofa. Everyone turned to look at you when you came in.

“Ah, she has risen,” Luke shouted, making eye contact with you through the mirror. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t have to wake up early and kick some strangers out of my bed.”

The guys laughed as Luke flipped the finger in your direction. When you moved to find a seat in the room, you met eyes with Ashton. You couldn’t help it when you looked away quickly and sat down next to Michael.

“So, Y/N, are you excited for the show?” Calum asked you. He sipped on some coffee, clearly feeling a bit tired from the night before.

“Uh, yeah,” You stuttered. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys perform.”

“Well, don’t worry, we’ve improved since your mom’s basement.”

You laughed at Calum’s remark, shaking your head. “I came to see you guys, like, two years ago. It hasn’t been that long.”

The conversation died down quickly after, and you became more aware of Ashton’s presence. Neither one of you had said anything to each other yet. Internally, you were panicking. Had you said too much? Was the kiss just a drunken mistake? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen?

You didn’t know what to make of the situation, but it was eating at you. However, there wasn’t much more time to reflect, as the guys were about to get on stage. You studied them; their outfits, how much they had grown into themselves and found their way. As they filed together to get a photo before heading out, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of pride. They really had made it.

One of their team members escorted you to your seat in the guest section of the audience. There were just as many screaming girls as you had remembered, although it seemed a bit toned down at this point. You couldn’t help it when you joined in when they entered the stage. Luke took the center, with Calum and Michael to his sides. In the back perched at his drum kit was Ashton.

When you looked at him, your heart ached.

You were alone in your hotel room for the night. After the show, you had ditched the guys and gone back on your own to pack for the next show and get yourself together. They had insisted on trying some pub downtown, but after the high of their performance, you couldn’t really be bothered. Also, maybe you were avoiding someone.

After taking a hot shower and using subpar hotel shampoo and conditioner, you dressed yourself in an oversized hoodie and shorts. You were climbing onto the bed when you heard a knock on your door, as if on cue.

Once you pulled yourself out of bed, you pushed your hair wet hair out of your face to look through the door’s peephole. Your heart instantly skipped a beat at the sight of who was out there.

“Ashton,” You breathed out his name and swung the door open. “Aren’t you supposed to be out?”

He looked too good. You almost couldn’t meet his eyes. He was dressed in dark pants and his usual boots, a satin button up tucked into an expensive belt. Short sleeves hugged his biceps, showing off the muscles beneath his exposed skin. His hair had been styled neatly after a post-show shower. A few strands hung down onto his forehead effortlessly, and you realized that your current look didn’t exactly live up to his.

When he spoke, his voice was low, hesitant. “I...uh, wanted to talk to you.”

Your brow furrowed at his tone. You were instantly nervous - those words usually never signaled that something good was about to happen. Given last night’s circumstances, you automatically assumed the worst. Still, you wanted to hear what he had to say.

You stepped aside, nodding. “Okay. Come in, then.”

You watched as Ashton strode into your room. His walk was slow, as if every step he took, he was unsure of. He kept running his fingers through his neatly combed hair, ruining it, but he didn’t seem to care about his appearance right then. He didn’t seem to realize how handsome he looked.

He turned and leaned back against the dresser, eyes following your figure as you crossed the room to sit before him on the foot of your bed. You noted how he didn’t sit beside you, like the night before. He kept his distance.

“Yesterday,” He began. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. That shouldn’t have happened.”

You stared at him blankly, despite the heavy weight that crushed your chest. His words stung. They were plainly stated and blunt as if he was simply trying to rip off the band-aid. You couldn’t bring yourself to reply, so he inevitably continued.

“I was just kind of overwhelmed, you know? I haven’t seen you in years even though you used to be one of my best friends. Then Luke drops on me that you’re spending a few days on tour, and you walk in...and you’re beautiful, really beautiful. More than I remembered.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words. You didn’t know what to make of this conversation, or where it was going. It was hard to understand if he was regretting the night before or if he was justifying it. The confusion etched into his features seemed to mirror his thoughts.

With a sigh, you decided to speak. “Ashton -”

“No, just listen,” He interrupted. “Hear me out.”

“Alright.”

“I can’t have feelings for you like that. You’re my best friend’s little sister. I’ve known you my whole life, it feels. It’s wrong, and I’m sorry.”

You knew that the hurt you were feeling was showing on your face, because instantly, the look in Ashton’s eyes softened. He didn’t want to upset you - you knew that. But you couldn’t help how he was dismissing the moment you shared, the words you spoke to him, just because the situation seemed wrong by technicality. It certainly didn’t feel wrong. Not to you, at least.

Through the disappointment and pain you were simultaneously feeling, all you could do was stare. Ashton had stopped speaking momentarily. He looked as if he wanted to say more, as if the words were on the tip of his tongue, clouding his mind. However, he closed the space between the two of you, and took a seat next to you on the bed. You registered this as some sort of surrender.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more gentle. A whisper at your skin.

“But I don’t care. And I want you to know that.”

You snapped to meet his gaze. You knew your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. You had wanted to say so much when you first registered his words, but now, your mind drew a blank. He had feelings for you. After all these years, he had feelings for you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to conjure up a reply. Instead, you took his face between your hands, pressed your lips to his. He was surprised at first but grew to settle into your kiss almost immediately. His hands found your waist and urged you closer; he needed you there.

Your knees knocked and the kiss was heated and fast. You swallowed his breaths as his hands danced up your waist, feeling and feeling and feeling. You let him pull you into his lap so that each of your thighs straddled him.

As his tongue ran over yours, you found trouble processing what was happening. You thought about being sixteen years old and loving him with everything in you, but doing nothing about it. You thought about when he left home for the road and didn’t look back. You thought about how your heart was broken, but he was now stitching it back together. And he had felt this way all along, you realized.

His grip was strong on your hips as you leaned down to kiss him with a fervor that was unfamiliar to you. Your hands were in his hair, tugging, relishing everything he was giving you in that moment. There was so much to say yet nothing to say at all.

Ashton slowly backed down so that he was laying on the mattress, your figure looming over his. Your kisses came to an abrupt halt at once; your eyes flew open, landing on his. The green was darker, pupils blown, stare wide and wild.

The way he looked up at you sent your stomach into somersaults. You leaned down to kiss him again, but he stopped you.

“Wait,” His voice was strained. “Do - do you want this?”

“Ashton, I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen years old.”

He smiled subtly. It was just the twitch of his mouth ends, but it meant so much to you. He reached up, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and kissed you shortly. “I wanted to hear that.”

You couldn’t help yourself when you leaned down to kiss him again. This time it was slower, sweeter, and the both of you were savoring every second of it. His hands traveled down your back, over your spine, slipping beneath your hoodie to feel the warmth of your skin. Everywhere his fingertips touched, goosebumps rose in their wake. He was affecting you so heavily in just moments.

The room around you was quiet aside from the quiet noise of your kisses. Ashton’s lips moved slowly against yours. When he pulled away to move you onto your back so you were the one beneath him, you finally got a real look at his appearance. His hair was disheveled and cheeks slightly flushed, eyes hooded. He was unreal.

His next move was felt at your navel, where his fingers were tugging gently on the hem of your sweatshirt. You watched the expression on his face change as you allowed him to pull it over your head and off, exposing your bare chest. His eyes raked over your torso, hands following suit, trailing up over your stomach, landing on your breasts. His breathing was heavy when he moved to reconnect your lips.

Something was growing in the pit of your stomach as he touched you, explored your body in the ways he had thought about too many times to admit. You couldn’t help yourself once you began unbuttoning his shirt until it was left open, showcasing the ridges of his abdomen, the light hairs on his chest. He moved back to shrug it off completely. In the dim light of the hotel room, he took your breath away.

You pulled him back to you and let your touch trail over the wide expanse of his back. His body was firm, muscled beneath your hands. You let yourself focus on the sensation of his warmth as his lips trailed down the hollow of your throat; kissing, sucking, nipping. Your back arched into the feeling subconsciously as you released a pent up breath.

“Always been so pretty,” Ashton murmured against your collarbone. He lifted his head. “Want you to feel how much I’ve wanted this.”

You looked at him through hazy eyes. He lifted himself so he was on his knees on the bed, his stature looming over you as you felt strangely exposed before him. You watched idly as his hands moved toward the buckle of his belt, unclasping it with ease, before moving to the button of his jeans.

“Let me,” You whispered.

His eyes flickered down to you. They held an intensity that was foreign to you. It was still Ashton, but you had yet to see him like this.

You noticed the obvious strain against his jeans as you leaned up onto your elbows. Your fingers shook slightly as you snapped open the button, followed by the drag of his zipper. He helped you in pulling the denim down just enough, allowing you the freedom to dip your hand beneath the waistband of his briefs.

“Feel that?” He glanced at you.

You nodded slowly, your eyes locked on him. He was hard beneath your touch as your hand wrapped around his length and squeezed gently. You immediately felt how badly he wanted you.

Absently, you shifted so that you were laying on your front before him, Ashton still propped on his knees. His lips were parted, hands running through his hair as you smoothly jerked him before bringing his tip to your lips. You couldn’t help yourself when you licked at it, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“Fuck,” He breathed out. His hands moved to push your hair away from your face.

You lowered your mouth down his length, hollowing your cheeks and sucking to accommodate him. His abdomen tensed as your nose became nearly level with it. Tears perked up in your eyes until you pulled back, then continued the motion all over again, bobbing your head at a steady pace.

His hands gripped at the roots of your hair without him even realizing. He threw his head back as you sucked him off, completely reveling in the pleasure of your mouth on him. He was having trouble believing that this moment was truly happening; you, with him, just like this.

Ashton cursed under his breath. “Just like that, baby.” He encouraged.

His words urged you to increase your pace just slightly. You took his length in your hand, swirled your tongue around his tip, listening to the way he reacted to your movements. He was starting to sweat and his body was tense. You knew that this wouldn’t last long for him.

Still, you lowered your mouth again until you were deepthroating him, bringing your touch down to his balls. You squeezed gently, released them as you gagged. Ashton’s grip on your hair loosened as you did so, his voice wrecked as he mumbled, “Good girl.”

The praise turned you on more than you anticipated. You could feel yourself craving him between your legs - even more so when he pulled you up to kiss him roughly. It was sloppy and haphazard, but you didn’t care. He was so immersed in the moment and you knew he wanted to return the favor.

“Lay down for me, alright?” Ashton said. “Wanna make you feel good.”

You nodded in compliance. Your eyes remained on his as you backed onto the mattress, still in nothing but your shorts. His chest was now flushed red, his jeans still hiked around his thighs, cock standing at its peak. He looked too good for you to fathom. You could only think about all the ways you wanted him; how you would let him do anything to you in that moment.

Ashton shifted so that he was pinning your hips to the bed. He pulled your shorts down quickly, ditching them onto the mattress beside you. His eyes danced wildly over your body, drinking you in.

You watched him with ease as he pushed your legs apart, twining them over his arms and on each side of his head. He studied your reactions as he kissed up the insides of your thighs, painfully slowly, making you twitch beneath him with anticipation.

“Ashton,” You urged, your voice sounding unfamiliar to you.

He didn’t say anything - just pushed his face forward, flattening his tongue on your center, licking upward in one swift motion. You immediately shut your eyes at the sensation, your hips involuntarily jutting upward. He welcomed the movement, continuing the circling of his tongue.

You gripped the comforter beneath you as Ashton worked at your center. He sucked on your clit sporadically, occasionally moving to your thighs to tease you. You were worked up in seconds, biting down on your lip to keep from yelling out. He knew exactly what he was doing.

A curse tumbled from your mouth when he abruptly slipped two fingers into your entrance. He continued with his mouth at your clit, licking and licking as he stared up at you. You found it hard to focus on this as he worked on pumping his fingers in and out, curling to try and reach your g-spot.

He didn’t remove his mouth from your center once as he moved his fingers skillfully. You were practically whining from the sensation, giving him a strong sense of satisfaction as your body writhed beneath him. He tried to keep you still with his free hand, extending it over your abdomen, feeling you tense beneath him.

He only lifted his head once to speak. “Tell me when you come for me.”

You nodded frantically - it was all you could manage in the moment. Your face was contorted as he increased the pace of his fingers inside you.

“I’m coming,” You exhaled. The deadly combination of his fingers and his tongue was what sent you over the edge. He removed his fingers as your body pulsed, leaving his mouth to finish the job, to truly taste you.

You felt yourself twitch under him as he licked at your center once more, his hands smoothing over the skin of your thighs. He savored every second of your orgasm; watched you unravel with a feeling of pride that he could do that to you.

As you let out a deep breath, your body finally relaxed beneath him. Ashton said nothing as he lifted his head, sitting back to look at you in the aftermath of your climax. Despite the exhaustion you felt from such an intense pleasure, you still craved him.

“C’mere,” You breathed out. “God.”

He chuckled lowly, shifting to kiss your neck again. “That good?”

“Too good.”

Ashton ran his fingers down your arm, watching your skin erupt into goosebumps. “Just you wait.”

You leaned in to kiss him. The gesture was slow, allowing you to really ease into his taste. You rolled onto your side to trail your fingertips down his torso, feeling the dips and curves and edges. He immediately groaned into your mouth once you wrapped your hands around his length, stroking once more while he kicked his jeans off the rest of the way.

“You gonna let me fuck you just as good?” He mumbled against your lips.

You stopped your movements. “Please.”

The word itself was all it took for Ashton to pull your body against his, so that your back was flush to his front. He lifted one of your legs, held it there, and then moved so that he could run the tip of his cock against your entrance. You shivered as you waited for him to push inside, and when he did, you couldn’t help the explicit moan you released.

“My God, baby.” Ashton’s voice was strained against your ear.

He used his tight grip on your hip as leverage to push into you completely, feeling you stretch around him. The pressure in your lower abdomen was intense as your walls contracted around him, adjusting. The sensation was overwhelming.

You clenched your jaw. “So big, Ash.”

He groaned again at your words, his forehead pressed against the back of your shoulder. He pulled out almost completely, then pushed back in before he began to develop a rhythm. Your eyes rolled back with the pleasure.

You felt him thrust into you more pointedly with each passing second. He was trying to focus on your pleasure as well as his own, but it seemed difficult for him, as he had been waiting for this moment for too long. The both of you had waited for it.

When he spoke into your ear again, his tone was wrecked, a low grit. “Look straight. The mirror.”

You followed his directions to see the mirror that was just before the bed. You became familiar with your reflections through your blurred vision. The sight was enough to make your breath catch in your throat. Ashton’s arms were so strong, holding you steady, his body glistening in a light layer of sweat as he fucked into you. You looked small before him as he held you on your side, enjoying the proximity and pleasure. It was deeply enticing to watch the intimacy play out before you.

When your eyes locked in the reflection, you bit your lip absently. The way he moved with you effortlessly was just an illustration of the chemistry you shared. It was intoxicating; the way it felt as though your bodies were made for this. You wondered how you spent so many years wishing for it, just wasting time.

When he nudged you to lay on your back, you braced yourself for the way he would make you feel with the new angle. “I need to see you.” He said in undertone.

He held himself up over you on his arms, relying on the shift of his hips on their own. You moaned at how he moved into you so deeply, so intensely. It was too much to see his face level above yours. His brow was furrowed and a vein protruded from his neck, his jaw set and locked. Your stomach flipped as his pace decreased subtly. He was slowing it down.

“Wanna make this last,” He gritted out. “Look so pretty.”

“Feels so good, Ashton.”

“Wanted this for too long, baby.” He admitted.

You could tell he was getting lost in the moment as his words grew more difficult to decipher. You wanted to cry out in pleasure as he moved his hips more pointedly, each thrust feeling more deliberate and deeper. You arched up into him, allowing him to move into you at the perfect angle, making you feel dizzy in the head.

“Gonna come soon,” Ashton told you. His voice was hoarse.

You turned your head, watched in the mirror as he focused on fucking you. He dipped his head down to kiss at your neck, sponging his lips over the skin, his body as close to you as physically possible. In the mirror, his back was broad and tense, hair hanging into his face. His thrusts were growing shorter.

You felt your climax approaching with every move. You succumbed to the pleasure, let it wash over you as your walls squeezed around his length with the feeling. Ashton groaned at the sensation, letting out a string of curses as you came around him without warning.

“That’s it,” He murmured.

Ashton pulled out of you quickly, stroking himself as shifted on the mattress and finished himself off. He came in stripes over your stomach. Until he gave you everything he had, your chests rose and fell quickly with the heat of the moment.

He allowed himself to collapse onto the mattress. When your eyes locked, it felt different, this time - as if the both of you had shared something that was unique to one another. As Ashton spoke, you knew things wouldn’t be the same anymore.

“I’ve been in love with you all these years, too.” He said. “You know me more than most, baby. I told you that.”

#writing #ashton writing #my writing #5sos writing #5sos #5sos fic #ashton one shot #one shot #5sos one shot #5sos smut #smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin one shot

254 notes · View notes

ldangerousdreamsl · 5 years ago

Text

Clubbing [Sirius]

Wow, sorry for not posting for such a long time. Life got crazy and I’ve hadn’t had much time to sit down and write as long as I’d like. With Luka’s route being released I kind of want to write another one for him, but I also want to write something for my bae Zero. I also have something in mind for Fenrir so now I don’t even know anymore, if you have a preference let me know. Also sorry this one is short, but I kind of wanted to keep this one light and little to the imagination what happens after the end.

Thanks for reading ~

Warnings: None

Today was long and stressful. Another day at the office that pushed me to the edge with its endless phone calls and customer complaints. I didn’t want to even think about it anymore.

I showed my ID to the bouncer outside of the club and entered the nicest one in my area. It wasn’t that far from my apartment, so I didn’t even need to worry about a ride home. I was going to let free and let the stress wash out of me.

Normally I would grab a drink first to relax into the mood, but the beat on the dance floor was pulling me in as it pulsed through my body. My body mingled with everyone else as my hips swayed and I let the movements throw me into a daze.

The smell of musty perfume and alcohol lingered in the air but it was calming in the way cigarettes are to smokers. Being alone heightened my senses and I felt someone's gaze on me. I turned towards the bar, peering through the heads of many people.

I was planning on being alone tonight, just myself. But as my eyes fell on him, plans were changing.

He was leaning against the bar wearing a white short sleeve shirt and a sleeveless brown jacket. His jeans were dark grey that fit tightly on his well shaped body. But what really caught my eyes were his dark purple eyes and the piercings that lined one of his ears. His brown hair was swept to the side and I felt pleasure to have those eyes on me.

His mouth moved as he said something to his friends next to him who were drinking at the bar.

The way he stalked over into the crowd his eyes never leaving me, made me almost want to walk towards him too. Then suddenly a couple blocked his way and I lost him in the crowd. Confused and curious I glanced around looking for him.

The crowd of people moved and swept up in the flow I took a step backwards into a solid chest behind me.

“Looking for someone?” A deep cool voice asked.

I turned around and met those beautiful violet eyes that caught my breath in my throat.

“Not at first, no” I smiled at him tilting my head up to meet his tall stature.

His smile was handsome and I caught a new scent of cologne that wasn’t there before. I could only imagine what the night was going to turn into.

Once more swaying my body to the beat of the music I kept my eyes on him as I danced around him. Every once in a while I would brush my hand over his arm or down his chest, which I could tell was causing his eyes to grow a darker shade.

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around my waist and pulling me closer against his body. I normally never got touchy with a man so quickly, but I had to say this man had an incredible air about him that just kept drawing me in closer.

He smiled down at me again and I felt daring and challenging.

With a smirk on my face I pressed my chest against his and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had made sure to change out of my work clothes before coming here. The outfit didn’t show off too much skin but was made of a tight material that outlined the curves of my body.

I rocked my body against his and he played along swaying his body along to the movement. He was pushing all the right buttons and suddenly I wasn’t close enough to him.

Swiping my body closer to his lower region I tangled my fingers into his brown hair. His head leaned down as he spoke right next to my ear. His breath hot on my skin.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little lady,”

I giggled, and he turned his head touching his nose to mine. His violet eyes daring me to make the next move.

I tilted my head to touch my lips to his and was surprised at how soft his lips were. He kept one arm on my waist and the other went into my hair keeping my head in place as our lips moved together in their own little dance.

His tongue licked over my lower lip and I opened my mouth to him. His tongue slid in and I tasted the alcohol he was drinking earlier. Somehow I felt a little intoxicated.

Our tongues circled each other, fighting for dominance as our bodies continued to sway with the crowd.

We were just another couple on the floor making out to the music, as the disco lights swirled around us.

Our breaths came out as pants as we pulled away from each other for breath but we were quick to come back for more. The longer I kissed this stranger in front of me the more I felt I was losing myself.

The arm on my waist moved down towards my ass and his hand lightly squeezed it. My mouth opened wider in a moan and he dipped his head plunging deeper than before. I felt I was going to explode.

I pulled back and met his violet eyes. An intense heat had glazed over them and before I lost myself in them again I spoke.

“What’s your name?”

He flashed a boyish grin, “Sirius,”

“Well Sirius,” I said tasting the name on my lips, “Want to take this somewhere else?”

#ikemen revolution #ikerev sirius #clubbing #sirius #Sirius oswald

14 notes · View notes

theharlequinwriter · 6 years ago

Text

Home Alone

Summary : Dean leaves reader home alone to see what she does and then comes back to find her in a very fun situation.

WARNINGS : SMUT , SWEARING , MASTURBATION

Word count : 1350

''Wow uhm yeah sure, I'll see you guys then''

Sam hung up the phone as he walked into the room. Looking around quite puzzled it wasn’t till dean spoke did Sam finally snap out of his daze.

''Who was that Sam?''

''Uhm a guy from law school, they want to have a reunion and would really like me to come.''

''You Should go, It will be good for you, Dean and I can handle ourselves till you get back.''

I patted Dean on the shoulder while walking to the kitchen. The boys followed close behind me still bickering if Sam should go or not.

''Sam, I mean it's only a weekend, go, get drunk, bang a blonde!!''

Dean winked at his brother while casually sticking his tounge out at me.

I brushed it off trying to hide the fact that my face was the color of a tomato or the shirt dean was wearing today with the grey plaid that makes his look so good I can't help but.......

Snapping back to reality noticing dean and Sam were still arguing about this trip.

''Sam just fuckin go!''

I slammed my drink down.

''Sam you need this, we can survive one weekend without tearing into each other's throats.''

''Just into each other's clothes right y/n''

My mind went blank, like really, did he just say that. Shaking my head, back to talking to Sam.

''I'll Find us some local small game to keep us busy, you go and have fun.''

The next morning Sam decided to go on his trip leaving Dean and I alone for the whole weekend.

''How about I search for a hunt while you go get some grub?''

Dean handed me his wallet with about 3 credit cards all in a different name.

''Yeah sure, I'll take my bike and ride down to the store.''

Getting back I noticed that baby was no longer in her hidden spot from the bunker. Approaching the door, a note stabbed to the wall with my hunter’s blade.

DOING FAVOR FOR A FRIEND BE BACK TOMORROW – D

This was just like him to leave when I'm not looking, Dean isn't exactly the stay for eggs kind of man. Throwing what food, I did get onto the counter I noticed that I was completely alone which never happens like ever.

‘’bath time!!’’

Putting on my favorite pandora station I sank eyes deep into the tub thinking about the fact that im all alone in the bunker. Sinking deeper into the tub my hands began to explore my hips then my thighs when I finally found my core I count help but touch and rub cause chills of pleasure to surge through my body with every movement.

The water began to run cold and to be honest I needed more friction. Wrapping myself in a towel I ran to my room as fast as I could as too not expose myself to the cold air. Finally reaching my bed I put on one of my old journey shirts and laid down and began to play with myself once again. Feeling how wet and dripping my core was now I began to get a bit braver and let out little moan and hums here and there. Arching my back so my index could hit the perfect spot I began to moan and pant gripping the sheets with my free hand, images of dean began to flood my mind.

‘’god......ahhhh...yes...’’

I could feel my insides get warm as my climax began to draw near.

DEANS POV

‘’god i hope she bought it’’

Pulling up to my parking spot near the bunker thoughts of what y/n would do with her alone time haunting me the entire time. Walking up to the door I see that she got my note and that means shes home. Tip-toeing into the bunker I heard nothing but silence. No music, no movies, not even the sound of a guy talking or anyone.

‘’hello?’’

Maybe she left to the bar to bring a guy back.

The thought alone made my blood boil. I've been trying to get the nerve to finally confess to y/n how I feel, this weekend was my chance but not If she's with some bar dude on her bed.

Feeling this surge through me I couldn’t handle it, I raced across the bunker right before I got to the door I swear I hear her.........moaning my name?...

Y/N POV

‘’AHHHHH FUCK!!!.... DEAN!’’

I felt my self-climax , my legs shaking I sat up shaking off my now lingering chills , I stood up when I realized my door was open and there standing completely still was dean with a look on his face id never seen.

‘’DEAN! OMG I NAKED GET THE FUCK OU....’

His lips crashed into mine, his hands grabbing my ass he lifted me onto my dresser while ripping his shirt off buttons flying across the room. Feeling his chest against my hands as he adjusted himself.

‘we arnt gonna play first?’

‘’no’’

Thrusting himself into me all at once I let out a loud moan the rand down the hall, dean began to thrust hard and fast while biting into my neck cause my back to arch only letting him go deeper into my center causing me to climax.

‘dean.....I.....I'm...I'm gonna cum!!!’’

‘’cum for me baby’'

I came all at once feeling more pleasure than I have ever felt surge through my body causing mini quakes in my legs. Dean picked me up throwing me onto the bed flipping me over so my ass was up in the air. Thrusting back into me I could feel his cock hit my g spot over and over causing me to feel the urge to cum again. Without a warning I came all over dean once again, he began to thrust harder and faster into me while pulling my hair. I could feel his cock twitch as it began to get rock soiled in me causing sensations I didn’t know excised.

‘’DEAN IM CUMING!’

‘’MEE TO!! AH FUCK!!’’

I could feel his cock pulsing as he came inside of me collapsing onto the bed out of breath and covered in sweat. I laid next to him staring at the ceiling. Sitting up I began to look for some kind of cover or anything to at least wipe my forehead, When I felt dean grab my hand.

‘’don't leave yet.’’

I laid back down this time facing him.

‘’well this is my room after all, so actually you would have to leave.’’

Pulling me closer dean kissed me this time but not the same as earlier this time it was soft and tender. Losing myself in the kiss, I finally broke away laying my head down on his shoulder, black began to close in passing out I felt dean kiss my head before he too passed out.

Waking up I realized I'm …..alone , like I said not the nicest guy. Walking downstairs I hear dean and Sam laughing about god knows what.

‘'Sam your back early!’’

‘’yeah turns out it was more of a let's get drunk and stupid party rather than a reunion ..’’

‘’that sucks I'm sorry Sam.’’

Waking over to the coffee pot I felt deans hand wrap around my waist spinning me into him. his lips crashing into mine.

‘’So, no good morning dean? Nothing damn.’’

Kissing me again he let me go walking over to his man room.

‘’I'm going to watch Scooby Doo and drink my coffee’’

With that he was in the room with the door closed.

‘’FINALLY, YOU TWO....DAMN MAN’’

Sam yelled right next to me.

‘What do you mean?’’

‘’You two were worse than high schoolers.. Does he like me? ,…. Does she like me’’

I chuckled grabbing my coffee and heading over to the man room.

*knock knock*

‘’can I watch Scooby Doo with my boyfriend now?’’

‘’........yes.’’

Walking in dean patted his lap for me to sit and cuddle up to him.

‘So, you were really going to pout until I called you my boyfriend?’’

‘......yes.’’

#mydeanimagines #supernatural #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #smoke #imagines #supernatural imagines #dean one shot #dean oneshot #dean winchester x reader

150 notes · View notes

thecstandsforcuality · 6 years ago

Text

I became that girl on the scale from that one episode of OHSHC

Y’all know the episode of Ouran Highschool Host Club where they have to do the fitness exames and all the doctors were overly encouraging and lined up perfectly to help the students?

I just lived that episode.

So without name dropping let me tell you all what magic I just experienced.

My work provides me health insurance has you all know from my previous post- its finally active for me to use!

I knew my boss paid for the fancier plan- but I didn’t realize it was THIS fancy.

Appearently, it’s a private medical and research conglomerate. We’re just gonna reference them as the Ootori Group. Because that’s basically the anime version of what I just went to.

Then my plan- the nicest of the nice appearantly - were gonna call it the Tamaki Plan , because I was treated like royalty.

So I pull up to the building after I get off work- and it’s HUGE. I mean the size of a mall. And that’s just the FIRST building there! It was probably bigger than the size of Ouran Academy for theme consistency sake.

I start circling around the first building as one tends to do- clearly lost. Then I look over to my right - and a man in a suit is directing me over. I noticed that his suit is very subtly and nicely branded with the “Ootori Groups” branding so I roll down my window and drive up to where he is. Two other men in branded suits come out.

The one who directed me to the building asked to verify my member ID so I told him and he punched it into a handheld. He then very sagely nods his head and tells me “Ms.last name you’ve come to the right place. It shows here this is your first time with the Ootori Group so while our valets take your car allow me to escort you inside.”

I unlock my car and then Ootori Suit #2 opens my door and Ootori Suit #3 takes my car to be parked. Ootori Suit #1 who was the first Ootori Suit I saw started leading the way inside keeping pace with me. Ootori Suit #1 then asked me if I preferenced Ms. LastName , Ms. FirstName , or a variation of my name.”

My preference is always my nickname , Dani- and so I told him such kinda dazedly due to being caught off guard by valets.

I was told “very well then Dani. Right inside a nurse will be there to assist you.” Just as the door slid open (it was very anime timing) he finished his sentence.

When the doors finished opening it led to a ginormous lobby area that looked like MoMA! Then true to Ootori Suits #1 promise there was a literal line of perfectly manicured nurses greeting people by name and leading them away.

Not two seconds after I stepped in a really pretty nurse with not a single hair out of place comes straight up to me - she was all smiles when she greeted me with a chipper “Hello there Ms. Dani- I see you’re here for an appointment because you’re still staving off a bit of sickness?” When I confirmed she continued- all while leading me to a very futuristic looking kiosk. “Well no worries , you’re at the perfect place!” I see her quickly type in my member number into this kiosk stand that is all cool angles and LED; she asked me to verbally confirm my birthday which I did. As I did so the date I stated filled in on the kiosk screen and then sent me an email with my receipt.

She then confirmed that I’m good to go into the doctors office now. I started to cough as she said this and then a male model of a nurse come out of nowhere holding a box of tissues.

He held one out to me and smiled “Here you are Ms. Dani- no need to worry. Right this way” I blew my nose and said good bye to the other nurse .

I then followed mr model nurse to a wait room. I looked to my left and there was an indoor play facility for the pediatrics . I started towards a real “music room” looking couch but before I could make it to the couch another nurse popped up and said right this way.

I coughed again and a completely different nurse practically apperated beside me with a different tissue box. I used the tissue and then yet a different nurse appeared on my other side with a trash can - then both of those nurses disappeared . The nurse I was following led me through a door and there was yet another perfectly manicured line of nurses waiting to whisk people into different directions. Before I could fully look around a different nurse entirely was calling me by name and leading me down a hall.

This nurse led me to a very Ouran like side cubby. There she took my weight, blood pressure and other vitals. She said it looked like I had lost a few pounds from my profile I filled with them when I set up my insurance and just like in the episode was so happy and encouraging about that couple pounds of weight loss. I mean JUST like they were to the curvy student at Ouran in the episode.

She then led me down yet another hallway and then into the actual doctors office.

Instead of a typical doctors exam table there was a Lay-Z-boy styled chair with the sanitary paper in the center of the room. I was told to take a seat and the doctor would be right with me.

I figured that this is the point when it’ll start being like a normal doctors visit- I’ll wait like 15minutes be seen and that’ll be that.

I was wrong.

About 90 seconds after the nurse left the room- the doctor comes in. She asks me how my day is and then the typical doctor questions. Then she said it sounds like I developed a sinus infection from being sick but she wanted to take a look to be sure. She then hits a button connected to her lanyard and my chair starts to lift up from the ground a good foot and a half til I’m at eye level with her.

She did the exam - I did end up with a sinus infection on top of what usually comes with my autoimmune disorder . The chair lowers and she tells me that my prescription is at the pharmacy.

I start to ask which pharmacy is it at- I didn’t remember setting a pharmacy preference.

She then did that good natured version of the laugh of someone who knows something you don’t .

She said a nurse will lead me to the pharmacy.

Then like magic again *poof* another Ootori group perfectly manicured nurse just appears in the door way. The nurse said to follow her- so I did. We went down a different hall - with marble flooring and chandeliers mind you- then we went into this HUGE fully operational pharmacy.

I walked in and my name was already on the order pick up screen and someone else was calling me to them. I go up to the counter and get handed my baggy.

I’m then directed to a different exit -

More valets are standing at the ready WiTH MY CAR ALREADY WAITING THERE. I just kinda blinked. The valet- Ootori Suit #4 informed me that when the pharmacist checked me out it sent them a message to pull my car around to this pharmacy’s exit. He could tell it was my first time at the Ootori Group.

I got into my car and was told to have a great day and drive safely.

I don’t want to know how much my boss is paying for everyone’s insurance. But I don’t want to know now.

#help #wow #funny #ouran host club #ouran hshc #kyoya ootori #Ootori Group #insurance #what #valet #nurses #male models #Lay-z-boy #fancy #chandelier #marble #lined up #how #why

19 notes · View notes

dreadhaus-literature · 6 years ago

Text

{Story} Cold Comfort

What’s a mortician to do when the love of their life is just out of reach? A temporary replacement is just cold comfort for the time being. It can’t last, after all—

True love never dies.

Chapter One

A Dreadful Dalliance sits at the end of a long, forested road, the gate-keeper to a sprawling cemetery that will eventually be the resting place of every soul in New Senzannini. The Mortuary has been in operation for nearly a decade and has earned it’s sterling reputation as a thoughtful, caring place to bring your loved ones for their last rites and a compassionate send-off to the next stage of life. Owned and operated by Dot Dreadful, the Mortuary handles all post-mortem operations, from the preparation of the departed to the funeral arrangements, and though the morgue is fully staffed with plenty of attentive, devoted staff, there’s only one mortician on staff--Dot. Now that the owner of the Dalliance was growing too pregnant to be on her feet, or surrounded by the chemicals necessary to do her job, it left a gaping hole to be filled or New Senzannini’s only mortuary was going to be temporary closed. That wasn’t an option, and that left Dot Dreadful with only one alternative.

“You’re hiring a temp?” Felina Frenzy, known more intimately by her birth name Monica, glanced up at her best friend with a curious tilt of her head. “Do they even have temporary morticians?”

Dot Dreadful didn’t glance up from the stack of papers in her hand; there was so much involved in handing her business over while she was on maternity leave and she should have started preparing for this months ago. “Ah, yes and no. It’s something of an unspoken code that you help out a fellow mortician if they need it. We often consult with each other on difficult preparations or if one of us is handling a coroner’s report dealing with suspicious circumstances. That sort of thing.”

Monica nodded, turning back to the training manual in her lap. “Were you able to find someone to help you out?”

“The city coroner offered but he’s...” Dot paused in her reviewing, glancing up at the ceiling. “How do I put this diplomatically...he does as well as one would expect a coroner to do when dealing with living, breathing bodies after he spends all day with cold, dismembered corpses.”

Monica laughed, nodding. “Makes sense. So he wouldn’t be any good handling the people aspect of the job.”

“Definitely not.”

“I mean, you know I’m always fine to help you out,” Monica crossed one leg over the other, meeting Dot’s gaze over her desk. “But I don’t know why you think I’m going to be any better handling the people aspect of your job.”

“You’re better with people than you think, you just don’t like them.” Dot turned back to her lists. “I don’t like people either but I manage this job just fine. You’ll be a peach, you always are.”

“...But you’re not expecting me to do the hack and slash part of the job, right?” Monica ventured. She didn’t and wouldn’t tell Dot no, but it wasn’t like she had the technical training to prepare a corpse for burial.

Dot shook her head. “Not at all. I thought of a compromise. Since you offered to help where you could, I figured you could handle the managerial side of things, keep the staff running smoothly, sort of...just sit in this chair right here.” Dot patted the arm of her desk chair. “You’d be the boss, supervising the day to day operations, and I’d hire on a temporary mortician to solely be responsible for the more hands-on part of the job. You guys would tag-team it.”

Monica looked thoughtful before she nodded. It seemed a solid enough plan. “But the city coroner wasn’t interested in working that way?”

“Roger’s a decent guy, but he’s also been the city coroner for like, eighty years,” Dot exaggerated dryly. “He wants to work this alone, and I just don’t trust him to handle the entire process. I’m not going to ask you to try and deal with his gross man ego while you’re doing me a favor, holding this place down while I’m off.”

“I would have been fine, Dottie.” Monica closed the lid of the training binder, handing it back to Dot since the woman as still adding pages to the already thick instruction manual. “I’m not unused to men’s egos.”

“I know, love, it’s not about you not being able to handle it, but more why would I subject you to that when you’re doing me a favor? Especially since I was able to find a mortician who had no problem with staying below and just prepping the bodies for you.”

To Monica, that sounded reasonable enough and why wouldn’t it be? A Dreadful Dalliance has been Dot’s first baby, but now that she had actual babies on the way she needed help taking care of her “firstborn”. Monica had been friends with Dot for years, since before the Mortuary, so of course she’d been here through it’s conception and it’s construction, and it’s subsequent years of operation. How many hours had she spent with Dot in this office, working on her own projects? Being a novelist and illustrator afforded Monica plenty of freedom to set her own schedule and since her newest literary masterpiece was circulating and topping lists, she had some much earned downtime--granted one might not consider managing a mortuary as “downtime” but Monica knew the staff here was pretty much self-sufficient and short of just sitting in here and being present should any emergencies present themselves, it really wouldn’t be too taxing. Dot had spent the last couple weeks preparing that thick manual for Monica to have and she’d also insisted Monica call her if need be. Dot may be approaching the bed rest phase of her pregnancy but that didn’t mean her vocal chords didn’t work--Monica didn’t say this, but she was going to do whatever she needed to not have to call Dot. She wanted to do this, to help Dot out when she needed it, and with Dot taking care of the second part of her job with finding a temporary mortician, it all seemed to be falling into place without a hitch.

“When do they start?”

Dot reached over for her desk phone. “They already have, actually.” She pressed the intercom, connecting her to the morgue in the basement. “Can you come up to my office please, Glad?”

“Can do, Miss Dreadful!”

The chipper reply to Dot hadn’t been what Monica was expecting, especially coming up from the dark, cold recesses of the morgue. She actually blinked in surprise, but Dot just flashed her a smile and turned back to scribbling last minute notes in the margin of the list in her hand.

A scant few minutes later and there was a knock on Dot’s office door before the new hire let himself in and Monica got her first look at the partner she’d be working with over the next several weeks.

“Monica, this is Gladwyn Charles. Gladwyn, this is my closest friend and your new boss, Monica.”

The man Dot named was still in the process of ducking into the room when she made the introductions, his impressive height making the frame of the door a little bit of a hazard. He was wearing a floor length black latex apron but all that did was elongate his already tall frame even further; it stopped at his ankles, revealing polished black dress shoes that were a compliment to his black slacks and the white button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had on a bow-tie that was red rather than black, and that fiery crimson adornment drew Monica’s eyes further up to the same blaze of red that surrounded his head like a halo. Gladwyn Charles was a true redhead, his hair the color of blood, a stain of rose around his pale skin and he wore it long, braided and over his broad right shoulder. it nearly reached his waist, but it seemed even the braid couldn’t tame all the wavy strands, as curls sprang free to frame his square features, brushing the hollow of his freckled cheeks. Gladwyn had a dusting of freckles not unlike stars across the bridge of his nose and the crest of his cheeks, bringing Monica’s gaze to his long lashes and the deep, rich forest green of expressive bright eyes. His glasses were perched a little low on his nose; the frames were silver and square, fashionable and sleek, but Gladwyn’s smile didn’t speak of arrogance that came with wealth. The smile was big and bright, but as Monica continued to stare at him it only seemed to grow...bigger, brighter, reminding her of an animal baring it’s teeth. It was almost aggressive, his smile was so prominent, but nothing dangerous reflected back at her in those eyes--eyes that were riveted to her face. Gladwyn didn’t even turn when he closed the door, keeping his gaze on Monica as he pushed the door closed with one long-fingered hand.

“Ah, Miss Frenzy. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Gladwyn made a show of wiping his hand one final time on his slacks before offering it to Monica. “Miss Dreadful has told me so much about you. I feel like I already know you.”

Monica stood to take Gladwyn’s offered hand. “M...Monica, please. And your name is...?”

“Gladwyn.” He laughed a little sheepishly, but still hadn’t taken his eyes off hers. “I know it’s a little unusual. You can call me Glad if you’d like. Or Charles, or Charlie. Even Smiley!”

From her desk, Dot’s eyebrow rose. “Smiley?”

“It’s a nickname from college.” Gladwyn answered Dot, eyes still on Monica as he kept hold of her petite hand. “Because I smile all the time.”

Monica would have ventured to bet it had more to do with Gladwyn’s smile being...hard to forget. It was almost painfully wide, as if he were the world’s nicest man. She gave Gladwyn’s hand a firmer shake, and though he released her hand...she felt the reluctance. She’d let his hand go several dozen seconds before he finally released her, but she tried to push that from her mind. Dot had warned her years ago that morticians were sometimes...odd. Like those who work in IT, only certain people want to play with the dead all day long; typically it’s those who don’t play well with the living. Gladwyn was probably just a little awkward from interacting with those who can’t interact back, day in and day out.

“Nice to meet you, Gladwyn.” Monica stressed his name, ensuring she said it right. Gladwyn’s eyes brightened.

“I assure you, Miss Frenzy, the pleasure’s all mine.”

“Monica, please.”

Gladwyn paused, his throat working before he spoke, inclining his head down in a show of respect and slight reverence. “...Monica.”

With Gladwyn much closer, Monica was able to discern even more from the tall mortician--like his tattoos. She could see at least four, though three of them were thick black bands on his left wrist, leading up to his elbow. When he finally turned to face Dot, Monica was petite enough to see there was a smiley face tattooed behind his right ear. Smiley really did seem to be a moniker that fit this unusual mortician. Gladwyn was tall and thin, but he wasn’t without some muscle mass. Now that he was closer, Monica could see his forearms and biceps laced with sinewy muscle, likely from lifting dead weight all day, and though his slacks left a little more to the imagination she assumed his entire frame was the same way., and she’d felt for herself how strong his hands were. Gladwyn was definitely not what came to mind when one thought of the word mortician; well, except for that smile. That was not a normal man’s smile, but Monica also couldn’t put her finger on what was wrong with it. Did he smile with too many teeth? Was it just too...eager? She shook her head slightly as if to clear it, moving to take her seat again--almost startled back into standing with Gladwyn extended his arm to help her into her seat before he took the chair next to her. When she looked up at him, intending to thank him, he smiled at her and her voice died in her throat. Eager was definitely a good word to describe Gladwyn’s smile.

Little did Monica know, but eager was a good word to describe Gladwyn Charles as a whole. The Dalliance’s newest hire initially comes across to others as unassuming, even if he was on the tall side with a head full of long, flaming curls. Gladwyn never minded that he had a tendency to blend in a little in the background; he’s perfectly fine with allowing someone else the spotlight because he’s a perfectly polite gentleman. Nice guys may finish last but Gladwyn would happily smile in the face of anyone quipping that at him with a, “True, but the tortoise always beat the hare, didn’t he?” before turning back to the task at hand. Gladwyn has gone through life with the intelligence to understand human nature, and the self-awareness to know he doesn’t always fit in. He’s aware he’s a little awkward but that awareness also allows him to fake it, to cover his tendency to make others uncomfortable with a self-deprecating joke or by being so polite others simply can’t be rude to him. If one were to ask Gladwyn he’s not sure why others are so put off by his smile; he thinks his smile looks just fine! After all, he practices in the mirror. His teeth are straight and white, and his eyes sparkle a little when he smiles--so what could possibly be wrong with him? Friends in the past have told him he just looks a little “creepy” or “crazy” when he smiles, to maybe try not smiling so widely...but if he’s happy, why shouldn’t he smile with all his teeth? For all his intelligence, Gladwyn can’t figure some aspects of human nature out, and that was one of them. Being too eager, too friendly, too clingy was perceived as a bad thing and he just didn’t understand that. That was why none of his friends ever stuck around for long. That was why none of his previous relationships ever worked out. Gladwyn simply cared too much. He was simply too eager.

Gladwyn slowly lowered himself into the chair across from Monica, eager green eyes devouring her in a way he knew he had to get under control, it wasn’t socially acceptable for him to stare this long but it was an enormous struggle. He’d never seen anyone so beautiful before in his entire life. Dot had told him a lot about Monica, he’d listened with his usual attentiveness but now, now he was calling upon his memory for every single detail from his previous conversations with his employer for the tiniest morsel he could glean about Monica. Even as his mind worked, his eyes did their job in committing everything he could about her to memory; her bone structure was impeccable, feather-light and delicate, and he ran his tongue over his suddenly dry lips at the urge to pepper kisses along her jaw just to follow that tempting line to her throat. Monica sat like an empress in the high-backed chair, her posture so regal he felt the urge to shy away, to shrink back because he didn’t deserve to be so close to her...but how could he not be? Who could possibly stand to be away from such an ethereal creature? Was she even real? Gladwyn’s long fingers pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, the focused lenses providing him with further admirings to commit to memory. Their eyes were the same color, green, but hers were brighter than his, a feminine compliment to his masculinity that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. Her hair was short, a bob that complimented her profile so devastatingly he had to slowly grip his fingers along the arm of his chair to stop from wanting to touch her hair. It shimmered, caught the office lights as if flirting with him, teasing him with how soft it must feel. And he knew how good she smelled; he caught the wisps of her perfume to the moment he’d stepped into the hallway outside the office and now that he was close enough to scent her effortlessly he focused on dragging the scent of her into his lungs, desperate to commit the scent to memory so he’d be able to recall it at will.

The simple act of meeting had never been so poignant to Gladwyn before in his entire life. How many hundreds of people had he met in his decades of life? None of them compared to this, none of them had ever affected him like this, like Monica. He knew her name was Felina to the public but she’d told him to call her Monica, the same name Dot was able to call her...that must mean something. To Gladwyn, it did. She’d shaken his hand, smiled at him and insisted, twice, that he call her by her birth name. A name intimate, known only to family and friends...that included him, now. How nice of her! How sweet...who would have thought a woman so beautiful, so stunning, would also be so kind?

“Gladwyn?”

The older mortician blinked behind his glasses, before turning to Dot. “Y-Yes? I’m...terribly sorry, I must have spaced out.”

Dot laughed, eyebrows raised. “You are wearing a face mask down there, right? Those are some pretty strong chemicals we work with.”

Gladwyn took the easy out with a gracious laugh, his rich tenor a compliment to that ever-present smile on his pale face. “Yes, of course, of course. A thousand pardons, what were you saying?”

“I was saying, Monica is the one I was telling you about, who will be sitting in my chair here while you’re working down in the morgue. She’ll be handling the operations, managing the rest of the staff and funeral arrangements. She’s got full authority and she knows how this place should run,” Dot looked between Monica and Gladwyn with a smile. “And love, Gladwyn has been familiarizing himself with the morgue downstairs over the past few days, shadowing me, and shouldn’t have any problems handling the hack and slash part of the job.”

Gladwyn cleared his throat slightly, his red brows pulling in at the center as a barb of jealousy seared across his chest. He’d known Dot for a couple weeks, knew her to use terms of endearment liberally and it had never bothered him before, but just now, her use of love directed at Monica rose like bile at the back of his throat. He didn’t particularly like that...and he didn’t particularly understand why.

Monica and Dot were both unaware of Gladwyn’s inner turmoil and confusion, mistaking his throat clearing and the shifting in his seat as mere fidgeting. Monica nodded, returning Dot’s smile before she turned it to Gladwyn.

“Shouldn’t be too much of a problem to keep this place running smoothly while Dot’s gone, right?”

“Hm?” Gladwyn locked gazes with Monica before that smile of his returned in full force. “Oh, I highly doubt it. You seem a very capable woman, Mis--er, Monica.”

Monica’s laughter was a touch nervous at the compliment, most especially coupled with the sincerity behind Gladwyn’s glasses. He held his smile while he held her gaze, and Monica had to resist the urge to blush under such open attention. He was certainly a...nice guy.

“I drew up manuals for both of you while I’m gone, and Gladwyn I told Monica to reach out to me if you guys run into any problems.” Dot tapped Monica’s manual on her desk; Gladwyn’s was down in the morgue and he’d already been making use of it. “The Staff has already been prepped to treat the two of you as co-owners while I’m gone, so you shouldn’t have any issues there either.”

“Seems you really have thought of everything, Miss Dreadful.” Gladwyn sat back in his seat; his gaze appeared to be on Dot...but he was watching Monica out of the corner of his eye.

“I highly doubt it,” Dot replied, resting her chin on her hand. “But, I trust Monica and with you here to help her, Glad, hopefully it won’t be too rocky for her.”

“You have my word, I’ll look out for her.” Gladwyn’s smile was once again aimed at Monica. “She’ll be in good hands.”

A nervous flutter of butterflies rushed up Monica’s ribcage and she had to look away; Gladwyn was clearly a man who wore his heart on his sleeve and the genuine show of emotion in his eyes, on his face, made her nervous. Who was so nice this early on? Was it possible for someone to just...be this kind? It had to be, because here he was, giving her a million-watt smile with promise written all over his face.

“Then I guess there’s only one thing left to do.”

Monica took the reprieve where it was offered, looking up at Dot. “What’s that?”

Dot gave her a smile, looking between Monica and Gladwyn with her hands out in a gesture. “How about dinner?”

The Tower was a high-end restaurant with an established clientele, but there was nowhere New Senzannini’s literary elite and established death beautician couldn’t eat if they wanted to. There was no need for a reservation and the trio were ushered from the hostess podium to the best table in the restaurant, immediately; afforded their privacy but with attentive staff at the ready. Dot eased down into her cushioned seat with a sigh of relief to be off swollen ankles but it was something Monica missed, because Gladwyn was standing beside her chair with it pulled out for her, gesturing to it with that curious smile of his. She offered him a nervous but grateful smile in return as she slowly sat down, startled at how easily he settled her against the table. Even for the muscle she’d seen he was stronger than he looked, but Gladwyn would argue she weighed next to nothing at all. He had half a mind to order for her to ensure she was even eating enough; a thought that darkened his brow as he settled into his own chair to Monica’s left. Now that they were out of the Mortuary, Monica could see all of him as he was out of his apron and he filled out his tailored suit well. He’d also rebraided his hair before coming out and with his wealth of hair pulled back from his face in an elegant french braid, Monica had to admire Gladwyn. He was a handsome man. As if sensing her staring, he turned to face her, his smile catching the ambient lighting and she had a new appreciation for his bone structure, the way the shadows flirted with the hollows of his cheeks, the high cut of his brow.

“I’ve never eaten here. Have you?”

“A-Ah, a few times,” Monica nodded. “I’m...surprised you haven’t.”

“Why’s that?” Gladwyn’s head tilt reminded her of a puppy.

“You...well, don’t mind me saying so but you look like you come from money.” Monica was hopeful the low lighting of the intimate restaurant hid her blush well enough as she moved her napkin to her lap.

“Why would I mind such a sweet compliment?” Gladwyn’s voice was rich and warm as he regarded Monica. “I do, come from money, but I don’t get out much. Surely Miss Dreadful has explained we morticians don’t keep much living company?”

Monica couldn’t help the laugh. “I a-am her only friend.”

“Hey hey,” Dot snapped her cloth napkin before pointing between the two of them. “That is a thousand percent by choice. Other people are the worst.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that,” Monica put her hands up, but as she moved to take the menu from their waiter, she was surprised to momentary silence when Gladwyn reached over, took her menu, and then handed it to her. “T-Thank you.”

“Of course.” Gladwyn’s tone was still warm, amiable, but he cut his eyes to the waiter as if daring the other male to say something. When the server cleared his throat and turned his attention to Dot, Gladwyn returned his gaze to Monica and his entire posture relaxed. His smile had never wavered.

The entire premise of dinner between the three had been Dot’s way of breaking the ice between her best friend and the new hire at the mortuary. She didn’t want to leave Monica with this new mortician for hours and hours a day, for weeks, perhaps months, without forming a sort of tentative relationship between the two, for Monica’s comfort level more than anything else. Part of why she’d hired Gladwyn was because he was such a nice guy. She’d called every colleague, boss, and even two of Gladwyn’s college professors to run him through the wringer to make sure he came out squeaky clean but every test Dot put him through, he passed. Everyone had something nice to say about Gladwyn, that he was an eager student, a polite co-worker, a diligent employee. He never called in sick, he never had any brushes with the law; hell, one of Gladwyn’s old employers stated he actually said, “Please,” and “I’m sorry,” to corpses if he mishandled them or when he needed to do something particularly invasive. Gladwyn was polite to a fault, and he was a certified nice guy. Granted, a couple people had mentioned his smile giving them the creeps, and Dot had to admit there was something a little off about it, but you can’t judge a guy by his smile, right? Besides, finding a mortician who wasn’t considered at least a little creepy was like finding a needle in a haystack. Dot had interviewed enough fish-eyed weirdos to know, Gladwyn was as good as she was going to get on such short notice. Judging by the swelling in her ankles just from the walk from the Mortuary to her truck and then into the restaurant, Dot was days away from being confined to bed--so as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers.

Still, Dot lifted her water glass to her mouth as she looked between Monica and Gladwyn; they seemed to be hitting it off well. Gladwyn’s smile was a prominent thing, Dot noticed he really did smile all the time, but it seemed different when he looked at Monica. Dot noticed things like this, she paid attention, but it didn’t raise any alarm bells. He simply seemed to really enjoy Monica’s company and honestly who wouldn’t? Dot had been friends with the other woman for over a decade; she knew the kind of effect Monica had on others and even if Monica would deny it to her grave, Dot knew better. Gladwyn was proof enough; the man was hanging off her every word. Dinner would be the first step to solidifying a good relationship between the two, and as long as this went well, Dot would be confident in going on maternity leave knowing her best friend, and her place of business, were in good hands.

“So, I know plenty about you Gladwyn but Monica doesn’t,” Dot turned to the duo as the waiter took their drink orders to the bar. “Why don’t you tell her a little about yourself?”

Gladwyn would have opened a vein to get Monica to talk about herself, but he swallowed that graphic visual with that smile of his, moving his hands to his lap as he nodded a few times, his attention swiveling to Monica effortlessly. “Well, what about you like to know?”

Monica blinked a few times, unsure what to ask. She floundered a little before blurting out. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Corpse blue.”

Gladwyn dropped his reply like a body onto the table, so serious in his delivery that Monica was left staring at him, her eyebrows slowly creeping upward. “R-Really?”

“Oh, no!” Gladwyn shook his head with a rich laugh. “I’m sorry, no, that was a little mortician humor. It’s just blue, my favorite color is blue, it’s just, you know the corpses turn blue when they’re frozen. I thought I’d have a little fun with it.”

Dot rolled her eyes as she reached for a hot roll from the bread basket at the center of the table. “You know our type of jokes never go over well with anyone.” She gave him a pointed look as she tore open the steaming bread. “Especially when they’re that corny.”

Gladwyn’s laugh was sheepish but genuine, and Monica had to respect a guy who could laugh at himself.

Throwing him a bone, she joined in the laughter, nodding. “No, no, I get it! That was, that was clever.”

Gladwyn paused at the compliment, his posture straightening not unlike a flower given a little bit of sunlight. His eyes were riveted to watching Monica’s chest rise and fall with her laughter, his own pulse quickening as he swallowed around his attraction to her. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? No one ever really laughed at his jokes; he knew they were a little awkward and probably not in the best humor, but she called it clever. She thought he was clever. His pulse reflected just how much he liked that, basked in that knowledge, that such a beautiful woman found his wit to be...worthy of her beautiful laugh. It had sent him over the moon to walk into this restaurant with her; he saw the way heads turned, the whispers that the Felina Frenzy was here and though he felt that curious jealousy again, part of him using his impressive height to shield her from inquisitive, needy stares, there was also pride that he was there with her. That others recognized she was there with him. He really liked that thought.

“May I ask the lady’s favorite color?” Gladwyn took the opportunity to get to know Monica same as she was doing with him. He was eager to know her inside and out.

Monica gestured with a smile. “Blue, too.”

It may not be a monumental thing, sharing the same favorite color as someone else; there are only so many colors in the rainbow, after all--but Gladwyn felt that connection like a bolt of lightning. They...they shared a favorite thing? It brightened his smile, widened it until he felt his cheeks ache but he welcomed the sensation. It made him so happy!

“Excellent choice,” he complimented with a conspirator’s playful wink, trying to play it cool when inside, his heart was turning somersaults. Monica’s laughter was light but genuine and it was wreaking havoc on Gladwyn’s nerves, shredding him until he was rubbed raw, left vulnerable to the next tempting thing she was planning to do. He swallowed again, looking up gratefully as their drinks were brought to the table.

“That better be a virgin,” Monica eyed Dot’s Bloody Mary, and Dot gave her a playful look.

“Only thing about me that is, obviously,” she gestured to her generous bump before taking a sip of the blood red concoction.

“What did you get?” Monica turned to Gladwyn, trying to keep the conversation between them going. She knew without having to ask Dot that the reason they’d come to dinner was so she and Gladwyn could get better acquainted...it just helped he was easy to talk to.

“Ah, you’ve caught me, I’m afraid.” Gladwyn lifted his foaming glass with a sheepish grin. “It’s a Dry Stout. I’m Irish every day of the year, not only on St. Paddy’s.”

Monica eyed the glass; it was so dark she couldn’t see through it, and almost resembled coffee though she knew it to be an ale. She laughed a little at his joke, missing his grin brightening in response as she was still admiring his drink choice.

“What have you gotten?” Gladwyn took a swig of his drink, curious eyes on Monica’s beverage choice. It was peach-colored, bubbly, and served in a long-stemmed champagne glass.

“It’s a Gigi,” Monica supplied. “My family is originally from Italy so I’m pretty well-versed in expensive cocktails from Europe.”

Gladwyn’s laughter was honest and washed over Monica as he gave her his undivided attention; she could definitely respect that the man was genuine, there didn’t seem to be anything fake about him in the few hours she’s known him. It was laughter she joined in on, picking up her flute for a gentle, feminine sip.

Gladwyn watched her without blinking, committing her movement to memory with ease; she moved with the grace of a feline, her manicured nails a compliment to the expensive cocktail kissing her lips the way he longed to do--Gladwyn came from wealth and affluence, he knew what it was to be among the elite but Monica was simply on another level. It didn’t surprise him in the slightest to hear her family was of money, she carried herself like a queen and why shouldn’t she? Her throat worked as she swallowed and Gladwyn felt it like a punch to his gut; his muscles actually tightened, his abdomen turning flips as he struggled to get his attraction under control. Monica was doing something awful to him, stealing all his attention and he’d never once felt such a strong pull to another human being in his entire life. The more time he spent in her company, the less he was confused by what was happening. Love at first sight wasn’t an easy thing to dismiss, but it was an easy thing to pin.

“It’s probably rude to ask your age, Gladwyn, but I’m having a hard time pinning you,” Monica set her glass down, meeting Gladwyn’s gaze effortlessly--because he was already looking at her. “So can I ask?”

“You can ask whatever you like, my dear.” Gladwyn would have aged himself with such a formal saying, but at least the slight accent in his rich tenor made sense now that he’d given away his heritage (as if his hair and freckles hadn’t been enough indication) and that endearment certainly came out smoother than the ale in his hand. “But I’m thirty-seven years old.”

“You don’t look it,” Monica reassured, but that was only partially true. Gladwyn didn’t look to be near his forties, but he carried himself that way, and his smile had some age behind it. Likely, due to his ever-present smile, he also had smile lines near the corners of his mouth and around his eyes.

These lines deepened at her compliment and Gladwyn reached over, putting his surprisingly warm hand on her knee. “Thank you, Monica. That’s incredibly sweet of you to say.”

Monica’s gaze dropped to Gladwyn’s long fingers and she felt him squeeze her knee in response; he made no move to remove his hand and she didn’t...know if she should consider this forward of him or not. She was dressed in black slacks and a ruffle-sleeve button-up, having wanted to start looking the part of boss since she would be taking over for Dot but she could feel the heat of Gladwyn’s hand through the fabric of her pants. She would, for some reason, have assumed his hands would be cold as the corpses he worked on daily, but his hands more closely resembled the fire of his hair.

Gladwyn hadn’t even thought before he touched her--he just acted, closed the distance between them as if he had to do it. He cursed that she was wearing slacks and not a skirt, a dress, so anxious was he to feel her soft skin. He knew it was softer than a lily would be, and he knew she smelled sweeter, too. He slowly dragged his gaze up from his hand on her knee, up her front to lock gazes with her and he searched her face--not for signs of refusal but for acceptance. She had to feel what he felt, didn’t she? There was no way only one soulmate would be feeling the instant connection, the attraction that was driving him to complete distraction. There was no other way to describe what he was feeling but soulmate; everything about her clicked like a puzzle piece Gladwyn had been missing his entire life. She didn’t shy away from his smile, she shared the same favorite color as he did; she laughed at his jokes and she found him to be clever. He knew she thought he was nice because she allowed him to pull out her chair for her and she wasn’t pulling away from his touch, now. She had to be feeling what he was...perhaps she was simply shy? Well, of course she was, she was a proper lady. A right beautiful one. A woman who deserved to be wooed properly, courted in the way a man of Gladwyn’s upbringing could. His smile deepened, and he gave her knee another longing squeeze before he slowly, reluctantly removed it. He wouldn’t push his luck, now that he was more convinced she shared what he was feeling, that slow-burning but all-consuming fire that was licking at his heart like flames.

“Are we ready to order?”

The server started at the head of the table, or perhaps it was simply Dot being pregnant, but it allowed Gladwyn a moment to wrangle with his returning jealousy--because any moment, the man was going to turn to Monica and speak to her...and Gladwyn really hated that. He was staring, unseeing, at his own menu, his mind narrowing to how he was going to...deal with this. He’d never considered himself a jealous man before, had never felt such raw, biting emotion in all his life but then he hadn’t known his soulmate before today. Monica was beautiful, a siren’s call to any man and while he would never blame her for such beauty, no it was his good fortune she was breath-taking, he didn’t have to like others noticing her. His eyes slipped from his menu, moving discreetly to Monica and again, he felt his pulse spike, his throat run dry, and he fidgeted in his seat. If he needed proof, he had it; physical proof. His body reacted every single time he looked at her.

“And you, Miss?”

Monica shifted, her eyes on her menu. “I’ll have--”

“Would you order for me, Monica?”

Gladwyn interjected into the conversation without much forethought; he was only grateful what he’d said made sense. Monica seemed to flounder a little, and he could regret catching her off-guard...but she took her attention off the waiter and it reinforced he’d done the right thing. Gladwyn had to fight to keep his smile from going smug that he’d so easily gotten her attention back.

“O-Of...course, but I don’t really know you very well?” Monica faltered, looking worried. “What if...I order something you won’t like?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.” Gladwyn set his menu down on his plate with his smile lighting his eyes. “You have impeccable taste. You can’t steer me wrong if it’s good enough for you.”

Monica’s smile was still nervous, still unsure, but Gladwyn looked like he’d made up his mind and she could only nod, turning to order for herself...and for him.

It was a small compromise, Gladwyn still hated that she spoke to the waiter, loathed that the man was admiring her so openly, but at least he’d staked something of a claim on her in front of the other male. It made him feel better, sated his childish, unfounded jealousy--no, it wasn’t unfounded! He had a right to her, to the other half of his soul. That was how it worked. That was the reward for the way he felt about her; he felt so strongly, of course he wouldn’t want someone else looking at her, thinking about her. No one had the right to even dream of touching her, no one except him.

Dinner did what Dot had intended...and it did a little more than she’d intended, at the same time. The two hours passed by in the blink of an eye, the trio exchanging stories, learning about one another and as the time passed, the more Gladwyn became convinced of what he felt to be true. Monica was the other half of his soul, the fabled soulmate promised to hopeless romantics and skeptics alike. She was perfect; she was beautiful, hauntingly so, in that he knew she would be in his dreams tonight--if he was able to sleep from wanting her. She was witty, humorous, intelligent; she was clever and her sarcasm was so biting he nearly wished to be at the receiving end just to feel the scrape of her teeth. When Monica smiled she stole the light from the room; she was radiant, and Gladwyn felt himself drowning every time she turned that smile to him. Her voice was what silk was made of, sliding over his skin until twice he’d nearly dropped his fork against his plate when she said his name. It was...too soon, perhaps, to think of late nights with her body wrapped around his but he couldn’t stop himself from going there, from crossing that sordid line because she aroused him so fervently his appetite was of an entirely different sort. He’d finished two stouts in the hopes it would douse the fire building in his belly but all it did was warm him further, made his brain a little hazy so that the lines between right and wrong blurred further. He was seated beside an angel, his angel, and the expensive food turned sour in his mouth for want to sample her instead.

This must be what it felt like to be lovesick, to be so enamored with one’s adoration that food and drink lose their taste. Gladwyn seemed to have fallen down the rabbit hole with no hope to catch himself on the sides--would he have? If he were honest with himself, no, he wouldn’t have. He dove headfirst down this trap, chasing Monica’s laugh, her voice, the way she looked at him, smiled at him. The way she made him feel should be criminal, he was already so addicted to the man he was when she looked at him. The glasses were emptied, the bill was paid, and all too soon reality was severing his time with Monica and for a fleeting moment he panicked at the void that would be left when they went their separate ways for the night.

“Thank you, Gladwyn,” Monica stood with his help as he pulled her chair out for her, and his smile was a little subdued but still present as he held up her jacket, for her to slip into it.

“It’s cold outside,” he prompted, fighting to keep the hard edge from his voice when it seemed she was going to simply take it from him. He wanted her to wear it. He wouldn’t have her catching cold, and his smile broadened when she slipped her arms into it. “There we are. That’s better, hm?”

Monica’s smile was a touch shy as Gladwyn’s large hands rubbed up her arms, smoothing her jacket and warming her further beneath the expensive fabric. He placed his hand at the small of her back, giving his head a nod toward the door and he tailored his steps to match hers despite their staggering height difference.

“So, what do you two think?” Dot turned from the front door of the restaurant, the valet sprinting out into the snow to retrieve her truck. “Think you’ll be okay to work together for a while?”

Monica turned to look up at Gladwyn but he was already looking at her, and he gestured to Dot with a nod of his head. “Ladies first.”

“I-I, yes, I don’t see any problems.” Monica gave Dot a smile, knowing Dot would be looking for any signs that Monica wasn’t comfortable--this would be a question Dot would ask again when the two were alone in her truck.

“I’m delighted to hear that, as I can assure I’m very much looking forward to working with Monica.” Gladwyn tore his smile away from Monica when he felt Dot was still staring at him. “You’ll be fine to relax at home, Miss Dreadful. We’ll have no problems working together.”

Dot looked between Gladwyn and Monica, making a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat but she nodded, her smile reaching her eyes. “Good. Then you’ll be in charge of the morgue 7AM, Monday morning, Mr. Charles.”

Gladwyn gave Dot a nod, but his attention was already turning to Monica as Dot’s truck rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant. He moved his hand from the small of her back, already loathing the space between their bodies and knowing there’d be more, much more, over the weekend. It was all he could do to keep himself calm with the reassurance that he’d be working very closely with Monica on Monday.

“It was a pleasure getting to know you, Monica. I’m very much looking forward to continuing to get to know you during our time together.” Gladwyn bowed his spine, no hesitation as he pressed his lips to her cheek. “I will see you soon. Take care of yourself until then.”

Monica’s fingers trembled as they settled on Gladwyn’s arm, and she felt his hand steady her waist in response. “H-Have a nice weekend, Gladwyn. I’ll see y-you Monday.”

“I look forward to it.” Gladwyn straightened up, replacing his hand in his pant’s pocket, watching Monica take hold of Dot’s arm, the two girls leaning on one another as the valet opened the door into the winter cold.

Without a word, he gave his keys to the valet but kept his gaze on Monica as she entered the truck, and as they drove off, he kept his gaze riveted to the vehicle disappearing in New Senzannini’s generous traffic. It wasn’t until Monica was out of sight that he was able to look away, the spell of her presence lifted enough for him to feel...completely and utterly alone. The smile dropped off his face fast enough to shatter on the marble floor beneath his dress shoes, and the valet nearly tripped coming back inside after retrieving Gladwyn’s car.

It would seem the only thing creepier than Gladwyn’s smile was when he didn’t smile, but for the first time in his life, he found he had no reason to, at the moment. The reason was currently driving further and further away from him, to live a life separate from him, where she didn’t have to think about him, didn’t have to see him, where he couldn’t see her, where he couldn’t touch her...

...for now.

Gladwyn pushed open the restaurant doors with one strong hand, ignoring the biting cold wind as he stalked toward his waiting car. Monday wasn’t too far away. Besides, the weekend gave him time to prepare, to make room in his life for a very special new someone. It had to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect.

Just like she was.

Stay tuned! ♥ Next Update: February 17th!

#{theme} : for monica #{story} : cold comfort #{character} : gladwyn charles

3 notes · View notes