#my boss started HATING my intern on DAY ONE for no fucking reason. and kept trying to get us to shittalk her basically.

[galacticfire]

.

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Naturally, I am Very Interested in hearing literally anything about Remix. But aside from that, the titles of "God's Most Faithful Hater" and "My Son is the Final Boss" are very intriguing!

The later because I read that Webtoon (among many others); the former because I love Tommy angst /and/ religious themes in this fandom can be really fun. There's no telling what direction any given person will go for DSMP gods and thus no telling what new (to me) ideas they might have that I could fall completely in love with.

...And after looking up what CYMK is, I think I'm legally obligated to be curious about "Wandering The Border". Dimension hopping my beloved.

I hope that's not too many? I have so much fun with your stories, it's hard to cut it down from "all of them, please!"

i very much understand, there's a reason why i listed only those when i have a few more dusting away on my shelf lmao. BUT LET'S GET INTO THESE THREE!!

gonna cut this bc it's long

God's Most Faithful Hater - A DSMP Fantasy AU Summary -> Tommy Innit is the most devout, religious, faithful follower Ranboo has ever met. It's hard to believe at first, but everyday without fail, Tommy would pray to XD, hold the silver and green x-cross necklace (the symbol of his religion and his god's crest) whenever he got angry or anxious, and would reprimand Tubbo if he ever jokingly swore by XD or Prime's name.

Ranboo thinks it's nice that Tommy was so faithful to his god, it wasn't for him personally but hey, everyone had something they put their faith into.

Only he finds out that his initial thoughts to be very much, untrue. Well, Tommy is faithful. But he has no love for XD and his religion, no.

He has nothing but contempt and hatred for the malicious God that sunk its divinity into his very soul.

Details and Thoughts -> basically xd cursed tommy to be 'faithful' and be his unwilling follower.

i got this inspiration from Tanya the Evil, both the anime and manga. for those who don't know, it's about a man reincarnated as a little girl in fantasy imperial germany during world war 1 because he was agnostic and 'god' decides that the man needs to be faithful and believe in god. it's a cool anime, i suggest you pick it up.

but i only took 'forced to be religious' from the anime and applied it AND angst to tommy in this au. the more original side of it is that tommy is unwillingly immortal and constantly haunted and 'put to the test' by xd.

those tests are very dangerous, and the only way to get out of them? pray to xd, praise xd and such to save him, the unworthy and unwilling.

of course sometimes tommy can pass those 'tests' or other situations without praying to xd, but as time passes, tommy just ends up praying to xd. mostly after his past adopted family nearly died because he didnt pray to xd. that past family? sbi ofc but thats for later down the line.

the shot would be focused in ranboo's pov in the first part. how he and the others are friends with tommy and talking about how surprisingly religious tommy was. unknowing that tommy kept praying every day for their sake, and to stave off xd's malicious actions.

make no mistake, tho tommy prays and praises xd outwardly, he still fucking hates the damn god. and his internal prayers always, always has him damning xd. which both amuses and annoys said god, but somehow tommy's prayers are at least genuine and stuff, enough that he has to keep his word and not fuck shit up for tommy.

i'd say more but, we need to get to the others lmao.

My Son is the Final Boss - DSMP AU Wilbur-centric Summary-> None Yet

Details and Thoughts -> so this one is very unfinished and was back when techno was alive actually. around then i was reading a webtoon called My Daughter's the Final Boss or something- basically it was about a dad whose daughter, as told by title, became the final boss of a world-ending apocalypse.

it starts w the dad having to confront the daughter that he had abandoned in the past, who grew up terribly and abused and turned into an apocalyptic event boss. The Final Boss. and in that confrontation he...

turns his back on his allies and tries to protect his daughter from them. dying as a result.

but of course, the webtoon continues and the dad is time traveled back to BEFORE he sent his daughter away (he had issues and shit and was an asshole really) so he decides that he was gonna prevent every bad thing that happened to him, his daughter, prevent the death of his daughter's mother, etc etc

so yeah basically that, but with wilbur and fundy. i think i was reading a lot of fundy angst and sbi angst when i thought of it while reading.

i might revisit this shot again, but morph it bc im trying to catch up with QSMP and i love tallulah. and recently read a fic of fundy and tallulah being twins and i just love that. wilbur gets to be angsty over TWO children lol but no promises it's only an idea that hasn't even flourished

Wandering the Border - CMYK AU Dimension Hopping Summary -> Yeah this one doesn't have a summary either sorry

Details and Thoughts -> it says so on the tin; dimension hopping cmyk! EXCEPT

all four of them are dimension hopping separately and are constantly meeting each other... in the wrong order. in different spanning dimensions, and each of them hop dimensions in differing ways.

for example:

T̸̢̧̞̯̠̖̱͖̙͚͎̈́͒̅͑̇̋͐̃͒h̷͙̻̖̞̾̇̂̎̊̀̈̌̏͝ě̶͖̖͂̔͗̿̌̒͗̔̚s̷̛̫͙̤̯̬͕̺͂̐̊̓̐͒̂̕͠e̶̻̓̍̀͋͘û̶̲̾̊͒s̸͓̉͊̇̃̆͛̀͘͝͝ aka Tommy Innit- Chaos Demon currently cursed with dimension hopping because he pranked his dimension's Chaos Demoness Goddess Drista. He cannot stay in one dimension long, pain will overtake his body if he stays for more than a week, sometimes more than a few days or even hours. It's randomized whether or not he can stay or withstand the pain of staying. He is the 'youngest' and 'latest' of the friend group.

Experiment T-U88-Oasis aka Tubbo - A test tube experiment genius, actually the youngest (he's only been alive for 5 years, 3 of them dimension hopping) but technically the oldest in terms of dimension hopping? He always seems to be the one ahead of the curve, meeting others and referencing meet ups that haven't happened yet for the others. Rare instances of other others meeting a younger him that is so unlike the chaotic, hyper Tubbo that they know of. He stole an unfinished experimental device that lets him dimension hop, he keeps fiddling with it, which makes him hop dimensions- or well, it sometimes short circuits on its own and he's gone.

Lethe aka Ranboo - Initially from a superhero universe, Ranboo's powers were mostly about teleportation. Short range, sometimes long range if he could focus and had the stamina for it. He and his superhero mentor ended up busting a villain lair who was messing with powers. Something happened, Ranboo's powers got MAJORLY messed up and he ended up hopping dimensions and losing his memories. He didn't even know his name was Ranboo or his actual superhero name- Tubbo named him Lethe the first time they met, even gave him his trademarked memory journal. Ranboo's powers are unstable, each use has him forgetting all over again, but slowly, over time he doesn't forget. Slowly though.

Purpled - He's a regular teen and mercenary. He does odd jobs, REALLY odd jobs and somehow he's in every dimension all three of them have been to? Second 'eldest' to the group, he's been at this almost as long as Tubbo has. They have no idea how he's dimension hopping and Purpled refuses to answer it straight, not even Tubbo knows how he's going at it and technically he's the oldest! Purpled's the one with the most mystery, he's 'normal'. Fully human with no powers whatsoever, just pure martial skill, however from his travels that he somehow goes on, he has the most stuff. Weapons, items, etc.

so yeah, dimension hopping cmyk :) again i could go on but this has gone long enough.

maybe ask me again if you'd like to know more. or more about the other shots that are dusting away on my shelves. it was really fun talking about this stuff :DD

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

By My Side (Part 5)

Summary: The reader has finally hired a replacement manager and after a dinner with her family, she and Jensen confront some underlying feelings...

Masterlist

Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,200ish

Warnings: mature (language, smut (m/f))

A/N: Enjoy!

A/N #2: Written for @spnkinkbingo​

_________

You stretched as you woke the next morning, getting ready for the day of entertaining your family. You bumped into Jensen in the kitchen, a pair of jeans and a simple black henley on him. You smiled but he frowned and you instantly made a face.

“Y/N, don’t turn off your phone ever. It’s a rule, remember?” he said before returning to slurping up his cereal.

“Oh. Sorry. I forgot,” you said.

“Please try not to do it again,” he said. He finished with his bowl and you took the cereal from nearby, pouring yourself some. “Are you deciding on a new manager today?”

“Yeah. I was thinking of that David guy?”

“The british one?”

“No, that was the Mark one. He was scottish I think. I’m not positive,” you said.

“Is David the one that had that intern? The little guy?” he asked.

“Alex? No, he was his just his driver. It doesn’t matter. I was thinking of David. What do you think?”

“Why does it matter what I think?”

“You did full background checks on all of these guys,” you said. “Who do you trust?”

“Honestly?” he asked. “I like Jake.”

“The young one?”

“He lacks the experience of the others but I don’t see him screwing you over. He was a navy cadet in college. Had to drop out due to a knee injury. Him I trust. Not that I don’t the others but I got a good feeling from the kid.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” you said. He stood and you grabbed the milk, Jensen wiping off his mouth. “Have fun with your sister.”

“She’s got a work thing at the moment but hopefully she wraps up soon and I can take her out for some fun for a bit. I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Later, Jay,” you said, getting a wave from him as he walked out. You poured the milk into your bowl and took out your phone, dialing and hearing a ring tone a few times.

“Hello?” the other end answered.

“Hi, Jake? This is Y/N Y/L/N. I was wondering if you were still interested in the manager position? If you are, you are in for a fun first day with that restaurant photo.”

“Mmm. Smells great in here,” hummed Jensen when he walked into the kitchen that evening. Your mom smiled and immediately rushed over, Jensen tensing up as she gave him a hug.

“Mom. Don’t bug Jensen,” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said, noticing your brothers were nowhere to be found. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Oh his arms are even bigger than you said! He’s handsome too,” she said. You rolled your eyes as you worked over the pot at the stove, Chuck turning around beside you and chuckling. “Jensen, this is my husband, Chuck.”

“Nice to meet you sir,” said Jensen, holding out a hand.

“You know everything about us already, don’t you,” he said as he shook it.

“Pretty much,” said Jensen. “Y/N’s safety is important and knowing about her family is part of that.”

“Well we certainly feel a lot better with her hiring someone. We’ve never been fans of her living alone,” he said.

“Y/N is quite capable. I’m just here to stop those situations from ever happening,” said Jensen.

“You will be joining us to eat, won’t you? Y/N and Chuck are making us dinner,” said your mom.

“That’s very kind of you mam but-”

“I insist,” she said.

“Just let it go Jensen,” you said. “This’ll be done soon if you want to tell the guys.”

Your parents headed outside, Jensen taking up Chuck’s spot beside you and stirring the cooked vegetables in the pan.

“None of them have any idea about the fake kidnapping or anything else, do they.”

“Nope. Nothing besides what happened last night. Michael and Nick know about the manager thing but that’s it. I’d prefer to keep it that way,” you said. The timer went off and Jensen got it, pushing some of the food around with a wooden spoon.

“They won’t hear anything from me,” he said. “Smells delicious.”

“Thanks. How’d it go with your sister?” 

“Good. I need to discuss something with you later after your family is gone for the night.”

“Everything alright?” you asked. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said, the back door opening. “Let’s dig in while it’s hot.”

“Jensen,” you said, finding him out by the pool that night, his feet soaking in the water. “My folks and the wonder twins are gone for the night.”

“Wonder twins,” he chuckled. “They act differently when your parents are around.”

“You picked up on that huh.”

“It’s pretty obvious,” he said. You sat beside him and stuck your feet in, Jensen leaning back on his palms. 

“What’s going on big guy?”

“Are you asking as my boss or my friend?”

“Friend,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“My sister wasn’t too happy to see big brother on the news nearly getting shot at. She asked me to consider a different line of work,” he said.

“Oh,” you said.

“Yeah. I’m not quitting, just so you know. A random guy running from the cops doesn’t scare me. Only reason I was on the news was cause of you,” he said.

“There’s a but in there somewhere though.”

“No, not really,” he said. “Just wanted to talk to you about it.”

“So there’s no problem.”

“I like when there’s no problems,” he chuckled. “My job is a lot easier when it’s simple like that.”

“You still have your gun on you.”

“Precaution,” he said. He sat up and took it out from behind his back. “You ever shoot one?”

“Pretend but real no, I haven’t. Can I hold it?” you asked. He set it in your hands, watching you look it over for a moment.

“You’ve had gun training,” he said.

“First season went through a lot of that stuff on the show. We get refreshers,” you said. “Colt?”

“Yes it is,” he said. “You use a glock on your show I believe.” 

Your head popped up and he laughed.

“Yes, even I do occasionally watch TV. Nice gun safety. You never leave your finger on the trigger.”

“Not supposed to, even with a fake gun they taught us,” you said. You lifted it up and held it out, finding it to be heavier than the one you were used to. “I like the grip.”

“You’d probably like a smaller Colt, fit your hands better,” he said. You handed it back to him and he tucked it away. “You see where the safety was on it?”

“Yeah?” you said. He reached behind himself and took your hand, guiding it to the back holster. 

“If I can’t use this, grips on the right side. Take it out, flick off the safety, point and squeeze. It’s that simple.”

“I sincerely hope I never have to put that into practice,” you said as he dropped your hand. Your finger brushed against his back, Jensen frozen solid before you pulled away.

“Any day I don’t have to touch it is a good one,” he said, your hand settling back in your lap. “That...tickled was all.”

“Green beans and tickling. You got some funny forms of kryptonite, Ackles,” you said. 

“Beats actual kryptonite,” he said. “Been awhile since I’ve been tickled.”

“I bet you like it. Being able to feel vulnerable and safe with someone.”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

Your feet kicked in the water, a smile growing on your face. He bumped your shoulder and your turned your head. He looked different, a softness about him. 

“Are you happy?” you asked. 

“What?”

“Are you happy? I...I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose this job over other things in life, like a relationship. You can have both, Jensen.”

“I’m lost.”

“I’m just saying...you can have a girlfriend and be my bodyguard. You don’t have to pick one or the other.”

“Girls get jealous,” he said. “In my experience. The hours are crap. The inconsistent schedule. I’m too…”

“Too what?”

“Last girlfriend I had...I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” He rubbed the back of his neck and you lightly nudged his foot in the water. “She thought I was too broken for a normal relationship.”

“What?”

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” he mumbled. He started to stand but you grabbed his arm, Jensen sighing and turning to you. “What? I think she might have had a point.”

“I think that was horrible of her to say and I’m sorry she never saw the real you cause him? He is so not broken.”

“You have this perfect image of me. Strong and capable. Dominant. Alpha. In charge, gives no fucks. That’s the bodyguard. That’s not me.”

“I know. I know Jensen likes being tickled,” you said. He rolled his eyes but you caught his chin, Jensen swallowing. “I know he likes the touch of soft fleece and expensive navy boxer briefs. I know he likes classic rock and sleeping in and likes two cream, one sugar in his coffee. I know he talks to his parents every Thursday night for at least an hour. I know he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know and I know he opens up when he’s well and truly comfortable with someone. I know he’s kind and I know he has nightmares sometimes. I know he can play the piano and guitar and he sings in the shower when he’s happy and he checks on me at night and puts my blankets back on me and doesn’t say a word about it, even when I thought he hated me.”

“You pay attention to me,” he said quietly. “Even though you don’t like me around.”

“I don’t like the bodyguard. He’s okay sometimes but a bit much all the time. But Jensen...him I like. I like him alot.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done. What’s been done to me.”

“You’re not broken, Jensen. I’m never going to believe that so don’t even try.”

He put a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in close, so close you could feel his breath  on your face. 

“You’re supposed to tell me I’m screwed up. We’re not supposed to be friends. Don’t you understand that?” he said. Your nose pressed against his, green eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” you said. “What do you want?”

“I can’t have what I want,” he breathed out.

“You might be wrong about that. Actually, I’m positive you are,” you said, his hand sliding up a few inches into your hair. “Stop being scared and just tell me what you want.”

He leaned in the last inch between you, gentle lips connecting with yours. He didn’t move for a few seconds, eyes opening when he inched away just slightly. You stared at him and you saw him get the message, another kiss landing on your lips, his free hand sliding around your back. Your arms went over his shoulders, Jensen leaving kitten kisses on you before connecting roughly, giving your whole body a squeeze.

“Bedroom,” you breathed out. He moved back long enough to take his feet out of the water. He hoisted you up and carried you inside, your arms and legs wrapped around him as you returned to kissing him. There was a light scratch from the stubble on his jaw and you tugged on his bottom lip, Jensen pausing as he tried to shut the door behind him with one hand. 

You took the opportunity to tease him, kissing under his jaw while he got the back door shut and locked, his hand slapping the alarm system and the little ping saying it was armed. He arched his neck back and spun around, pushing you up against the wall. You squeezed him tighter, getting gentle bites along your collar bone.

He tore the two of you away and rushed you upstairs, stepping up onto your bed and walking forward on his knees until he could lower you down to your back. His eyes looked darker but playful as he moved up and leaned over you.

“Condom?” he asked.

“I’m on medication,” you said. “You clean?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Same.”

“Good cause I really don’t think I can wait any longer to do this,” he said. He tore off his shirt and you immediately shot your hands up to his chest, running your fingers down it. 

“You’re so damn hot,” you said. He rolled off the bed and dropped his pants, giving you time to get your shirt off. By the time your head wasn’t covered, you had a perfect view of his ass, creamy and perky. Your bra went off quickly, Jensen turning around and making you pause.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself and then you.

“Lucky me,” you said. He smirked and you kicked off your shorts and underwear, Jensen crawling back on the bed and hovering over you. You kissed him and he planted his forearm by your head, his other hand trailing down to your breast. He kneaded the flesh gently, swiping a thumb over the bud and getting a tiny gasp out of you. He teased the same nipple with light touches and twists before working the other one over.

By the time his hand made its way between your folds you were soaking wet already.

“How do you want it?” he murmured against your lips, circling your clit lightly with his thumb.

“Want what?” you asked, arching your hips up into his touch.

“Slow. Fast. What do you like?” he asked, kissing your jaw as your breath hitched. 

“Show me how you’ve imagined this going,” you said. He smiled and you felt the head of his cock brush you folds. He teased the head against your clit a few times before you reached down and were guiding him into your hole.

He was a smidge thicker than you were expecting and his length was perfect, solid, long but not too much. He surprised you by wrapping his arms around you pulling you to sit up on his lap, your legs hanging around his waist. He thrust his hips up and you bit your bottom lip, landing back down on him. He moved again and hit your g-spot, your jaw dropping.

“That’s the spot,” he murmured, kissing you as he started a slow and steady rhythm. You hung on for the ride, his hands on your thighs, thick cock pumping into you over and over and over again. You’d been able to play on your own and hit that spot but never with a guy, never had that low pressure simmering in your core.

God it was going to fucking destroy you when it hit.

You couldn’t wait.

You smiled as your nerves tingled, Jensen kissing you all over, his grip strong but everything else soft and gentle. His hair started to dampen with sweat and and you felt a layer cover your body, the steady pace getting you both closer. 

He was nipping at your shoulder when you rolled your hips, Jensen grunting lowly and burying his face in your neck. That was a sound you could definitely do with more of and you did the motion again, Jensen pushing you onto his cock this time. You both moaned, Jensen’s slow pace picking up just a hair.

You were rolling your hips when his tip pounded inside of you and the low pressure started to explode inside you. You gasped and weren’t even sure what the hell kind of sound you’d made, suddenly aware of hot wetness filling you up. Jensen tensed up and slowly started to stop moving, your breath finally coming back to you as he stilled. He dropped his forehead on your shoulder and panted, your hands running up and down his back, playing with his hair some.

You giggled, Jensen letting out one himself and you swore your heart couldn’t have melted any faster. You picked your head up as he did, giving him a long kiss. He rested his forehead on your own, a smile dancing across his face.

“That was the best sex of my fucking life,” you said. He smiled hard and lowered you back down to the bed, holding up a finger. He pulled out and took a few shaky steps before going into your bathroom. He returned with a washcloth, wiping you clean. He tossed it back in the bathroom before he bent down to his pants. You frowned, Jensen looking back as he unclipped his holster from his belt. He walked it over to the unused nightstand and set it on top before he slid next to you. You pushed the covers back and slid under the sheet together, Jensen rolling you close to him and up against his chest.

“I don’t hookup,” he said.

“Okay,” you said. You shut your eyes and burrowed in a bit closer, Jensen pulling you to use his chest as a pillow. “I really liked that. It was fun.”

“We should do it again sometime,” he said. He turned his head and you smiled, Jensen moving a stray piece of hair away from your cheek. 

“I would be much safer if you slept close by, wouldn’t I?” you asked coyly, Jensen already seeing through it.

“Oh yes, much safer.”

“Maybe you should sleep in here from now on...for safety.”

“In the name of safety, for sure,” he said, kissing your temple. “Real talk for a second. If this is just a hookup for you can you let me now over-”

You put a hand over his mouth and stared at him, slowly moving it away and giving him a kiss.

“I like you, Jensen. I really like you.”

He smiled and took your hand, laying it over his chest so you were holding him.

“Goodnight,” you said, kissing his shoulder.

“Night, Y/N,” he said, lightly dancing his fingers over your hip. “Sleep good.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 6 here!

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you( Falling from grace) Jungkook

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook

Read Chapter 1 here

Read Chapter 2 here

Read Chapter 3 here

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other. Fair warning this has no plot. its just them being idiots .

Chapter warning : a little bit of plot just to keep things interesting yeah? 

Chapter 4

The washroom on the seventeenth floor was the unofficial gossip hub and normally I would steer clear of that place but desperate times called for desperate measures. I was pretty sure I looked like I’d been dragged backwards through a hedgerow and I had to get it fixed before I got written up . 

Willing myself not to openly flinch with every step, I tried to curb the trembling in my thighs, almost painfully sensitive to how wet and messy my lower half as. What the fuck had I been thinking. 

When I entered the restroom, I moved to the huge ornate mirror in the center and took a nice long look at myself. 

 I felt my throat seize up in shock.

Good God. 

I looked ten times worse than I felt. The hair in the back of my head was sticking up , four even gaps from where he’d gripped my hair too tight. Yelping, I pulled on the dozen hairpins holding my hair up in a messy bun, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. Panicking , I threaded my fingers through the strands, wincing when I touched my jaw. What the fuck...

I leaned closer, peering at the small abrasion near my chin. It was a bruise, shaped exactly like Jungkook’s thumb. And it was already turning into an ugly shade of puce. 

Slightly hysterical because, Hoseok was so incredibly unbending when it came to office etiquette and  I did not want to get fired, I flipped at the fancy taps, sticking my hand underneath the cold water and splashing it all over my face. 

The door opened behind me and I flinched.

“Oh, hey Areum....” Three of my colleagues walked in . I recognized two of them , Jieun and Hana . The third one looked new.

“Hey...” I croaked out, trying hard not to look like I’d just been fucked to an inch of my life in a supply closet by the boss’ son. 

Oh fuck, what the hell was I thinking? 

The girls moved to the mirror , spreading out across the long counter and pulling out their compacts and lipsticks . I kept my head down, still trying to calm my pounding heart. 

“So let me get this straight, he called you at eleven in the night yesterday and wanted to meet you ? At your apartment?” Hana was saying. 

The new girl was blushing as red as a tomato.

“Yeah...he uh... he told me he was just returning from his training. He’s a boxer.” There’s a shy sort of admiration in her voice and I felt an odd sense of foreboding. 

“Booty call.... He wanted to fuck you for sure.” Jieun said firmly. “ You’re a lucky bitch, Sana... ”

Sana.....

My fingers started trembling when I heard the familiar name. I tried to calm myself down but it was impossible . A red hot sort of rage began licking its way up my spine. It wasn’t new. I knew he fucked other people. We both did. 

but I’d never stood within two feet of one of his conquests. 

“ Yeah...but then he called me like an hour later and said he wasn’t coming around.” Her voice was tinged with disappointment and I felt a sick sort of satisfaction. 

Jungkook had cancelled because of the pic I’d sent him. 

“Maybe he thought he wanted more.... like you told me he asked you to come meet him at practice tomorrow right? To get coffee afterwards... ? Maybe he wants to do this properly....take you out on dates...get to know you....”

I couldn’t stay there a second longer. 

“Ladies...” I bowed quickly and they offered me cheerful smiles. I all but ran out of the restroom, hating the sharp sting of tears somewhere near my lashes. 

I stumbled to the back stairwell, which was mostly unused and usually deserted. Gripping the walls, I slid down to sit on the floor, drawing my knees up to bury my face in. 

There was a reason I didn’t do public sex, I thought, shaking. Despite the way I mouthed off at Jungkook, sex with him always took a toll and I had always, always made sure I had space and time to recover from it. Gripping my thighs and trying to fight the urge to whine, I fumbled with my phone. 

“Areum?”

“Can I have the day off?” I whispered, shaking a little. 

“You alright?” Hoseok’s voice sounded genuinely worried and I hummed.

“ Got my period.” I said blankly. 

“ Gotchu. I’ll fill up the form and get one of the interns to pack your stuff up. You need to get some meds or something? Need a ride home?”

I felt warmth bloom in my chest. This is why Hoseok was such a great HR manager. He genuinely cared. 

“ I don’t need a ride. Or anything else.” I said quickly, “I’ll take a cab...”

There was a slight shuffling and then, an altogether familiar and unwelcome voice in the background went.

“Who’s that?”

Oh fuck. What the hell was he doing there? 

“Areum...hang on, Jungkook’s here....he wants to talk to you...” Hoseok said quickly and before I could protest , I heard Jungkook’s low raspy exhale against my ears.

“Where are you?” He said shortly. 

I considered protesting but remembered that Hoseok was still there. 

“ The back stairwell... I... I’ll come there , I...”

“Stay right there. I’ll come get you.” 

Before I could respond, he had hung up. I stayed on the floor, staring stright at the opposite wall. I forced myself not to think, trying to take deep breaths. The truth was I was exhausted. Physically and otherwise. 

Letting my head fall back against the wall, I closed my eyes, trying not to think about what Id’ heard in the restroom. Was Jungkook interested in Sana? Meeting him at practice? Coffee? 

That just screamed dating to me. I’d always assumed that Jungkook wasn’t into dating. That he just enjoyed quick fucks because that’s all he had ever offered me. So maybe, it wasn’t because Jungkook didn’t want to date. It was because Jungkook didn’t want to date  me. 

 Which was fine. I didn’t want to date him either. I really didn’t . 

“Hey....you okay?”

I had to inhale shakily, just to bring myself to look at him. I felt my heart ache something fierce because he was kneeling in front of me, strands of hair falling into doe back eyes. Eyes that fairly glistened with genuine concern. There was no infuriating smirk or haughty smile....instead his lips were parted in genuine concern, eyebrows furrowed in worry and one hand resting on my knee , fingers just so unfamiliarly gentle. 

I stared at him for another second and smiled evenly.

“Guess I’m gonna be needing that wheelchair after all.” I quipped. 

He stared at me for a second before his face split in a wide grin, a genuine bark of laughter spilling out of him. He looked so carefree and unabashed that I bit my lips, staring at him some more. 

“Let’s get you home , yeah?”

I nodded, letting him grip my arm to help me up. 

“It’s okay. I can walk... “ I said softly and he hummed, but still kept an arm around me and I noticed that he had my handbag slung on the other shoulder.

We reached the elevator and rode down in silence .

I followed him to the basement parking and he fumbled with the smart key to his car , pointing in the direction of the multitude of cars and I watched one of the flashy red ones blink. 

“Let’s go to my place...., yeah?” He said casually and I groaned.

“Jungkook, I know this going to make your ego swell but I’m not joking when I say that I cannot physically take your dick at least for another couple of days.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck you, God. I’m working on a project for the Art Fest down at the Museum and I’m staying home. You can rest there....” He said casually, moving to put his seat belt on. He fixed the mirrors by prodding a few buttons and I watched the tattoos on his arm flex as he gripped the steering wheel, one arm coming around the headrest of my seat so he could turn and back out of the lot carefully. 

I frowned at the broad shoulders near my face. .

“Why would I rest there? I have a home....” I protested , watching him hold the door open for me. 

“Because I know for a fact that , it being Monday, both your sister and your mother are supposed to be coming over today to cook and clean for you because you have no life skills, “ He grinned and I glared at him, “ . They’ll probably notice the limp and I just thought I’d spare you the humiliation.” 

I didn’t respond because he was right. My mom and sister were home and it would be impossible to get any rest with them around. The fact that Jungkook somehow knew this made me feel jittery and nervous though. 

“You have a fight this weekend?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. 

He kept his eyes on the road, sparing me just one questioning glance.

“How’d you know?” He asked curiously and I bit my lips.

 I’ve been following your boxing career for a three years.

 “ Just heard someone say something at the office...” I said vaguely. 

“You aren’t invited.” He said sharply and I gripped the seats, annoyed.

“I don’t want to be there anyway.” I snapped back. 

He huffed.

“I’m serious about what I do Areum... I don’t want you interfering in that part of my life, alright? We’ve been through this before.”

I sneered at that.

“I know....isn’t that why you literally banned me from your gym. “ 

He didn’t reply and I stared at my hands. 

He had invited that girl, though, my mind supplied helpfully. 

He invited her not only to the gym, to watch him practice, but also for coffee afterwards...you know...to get to know her better....probably because she’s not the kind of girl who would spread her legs as easily as you do.....

 I stared out of the window, remembering how pretty and put together Sana had looked. The dainty walk, the perfect make up and the long hair, styled perfectly. 

I was beautiful too. Of course I was and I knew it. 

Men like Jungkook didn’t go for unattractive women even if it was for a quick lay. But, there’s beauty and then there’s actual charm? I wasn’t charming in any sense of the word. But then, did I have to be charming and attractive and perfect to go see him fight? 

Why?

What about the other people there? If literally anyone could go watch him fight, why wasn’t I allowed? 

“I want to come watch you train....” I said impulsively, my anger getting the better of me. 

Jungkook turned to give me a shocked stare. 

“What? Why?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion and I shrugged.

“No reason.” I said shortly. I could physically feel his irritation build. 

“Areum....” He began , voice holding a note of warning but I refused to back down.

“Literally anyone can visit your gym. You own the thing and you love offering discounts to everyone you meet...and yet somehow, I’m ‘ banned’. Why?” I demanded.

“Because I don’t want you there...That’s a good enough reason for me.” He snapped back and I clenched my fists harder. 

“Well, sucks for you. I’m gonna be there. On the front row. Let me see what’s so great about Jeon Jungkook in the ring that drives women wild...” I scoffed.

He stared at me for a second and then chuckled.

“Ahh..... so you just wanna watch me get wet and sweaty.... ? Understandable.”

I sneered. 

“You have been wet and sweaty on top of me enough times and trust me the novelty has long worn off.”  

He groaned.

“It genuinely feels like anytime I try to be halfway decent human being to you, you repay me by being as annoying as you can....” He said thoughtfully and I couldn’t say anything to that. 

i flinched when his hand reached out, moving to my knees and squeezing /lightly.

“What are you doing?” I frowned slapping at his fingers and he merely moved his hand higher up my thigh. I flinched when he squeezed again.  

“The only time you’re remotely bearable is when I’m touching you....So I’m gonna keep my hand here...” He gave me a smug grin, eyes practically dancing with mirth and I grimaced. 

“I’m still going to come. I want to.” I said firmly. 

He didn’t argue further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Much to my surprise , I slept away the better part of the day, buried in Jungkook’s soft white sheets , head pillowed in the dozen fluffy throws he kept around. It was vaguely arousing that someone so intensely masculine like Jungkook preferred a comfortable , soft toned bedroom. The sheets smelled exactly like him, a fresh citrusy scent that managed to be soothing and sweet and yet somehow seductively warm as well. 

I woke up to fingers in my hair, lightly stroking. The room was dim, a little bit of light from the streets spilling in through the gaps between the curtains. 

“Areum.... It’s almost eight.... I’m gonna order us something for dinner... You wanna wake up now?” 

His voice. Fuck. 

I rolled over , groggy and disoriented. My eyes took in the splendor that was Jeon Jungkook, taking in the fact that he was only wearing grey sweatpants . I stared at the smooth expanse of his chest, feeling arousal bloom , slow and steady all over me. 

“I wanna suck you off...” I croaked out before I could fully filter my own thoughts.

Jungkook chuckled a bit at that. 

“I’m not gonna say no to that, but why don’t you take a shower and wake up fully.

I shook my head.

“ Let’s get messy first..... we can shower later...” I whined, still blinking and he groaned, slipping into the bed with me, under the covers, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me up till I was on him, my chin resting on his chest as I stared at his beautiful face. 

 What am I doing here? Where is this leading?

“I’ve never seen you like this. “ He commented mildly.

“Like what?”

“Sleepy and horny....Usually you‘re just angry and horny.” 

I shook my head. 

 “I should go.” I said hesitantly.. Jungkook didn’t respond for a few seconds, merely staring at me with a blank look on his face. Then he gave me a slight squeeze around my waist and moved out from under me. .

“I can call you a cab...” He said simply, moving to get up off the bed again. I felt something jump in my throat . It was unlike him to acquiesce so fast, and it was unlike us to just.... hang out without mutual orgasms thrown in the mix and somehow that felt like a change I wasn’t ready for. A bit of panic flashed through and I reached out blindly when he stood up, grabbing his waist and yanking him closer.

I looked up at him, scooting to the edge of the bed and kneeling till I was right in front of him. 

Eager to get things back to normal, I smiled and casually, pressed both my hands behind my back, looping my fingers together at the base of my spine. 

“Get those handcuffs.” 

Jungkook’s dick literally twitched in his pants and he swore.

“Fuck baby....” He grabbed my face roughly, crashing his lips over mine. I kissed back, almost desperate, trying to remember all the reasons why he annoyed me, why this was all we were to each other. A quick fuck, a quick lay, fuck buddies. that's what we were......

“Stay here. Stay right here...Don’t fucking move.” He pulled back and dove for his bed stand. I watched as he pulled out a silky black tie. 

I grinned when he nearly fell, scrambling up on the bed and pushing up behind me. He grabbed the hem of my blouse, yanking it up over my head before grabbing my wrists together again , tying them swiftly behind me. 

“Only you...” He whispered against the back of my neck. “ Only you can do this to me. Drive me wild with want just by fucking existing....” 

And then he was lying down near me, grabbing my waist and jostling me around till I was straddling his waist. It took me a second to orient myself I managed to steady myself, staring down at him in surprise. 

“ Seeing as you said you needed a break from my dick, how about you come sit on my face, today?” He smirked. 

I tested the give on my hands, before carefully leaning down to him

“Sure you have the lung capacity for this , Jeon?” I whispered, lips brushing his as I spoke. 

He responded by gripping my waist hard, easily lifting me up till i was straddling his shoulders. 

“I’m ready to drown in that sweet sweet honeypot, baby...” He winked and it was such a ridiculously bad joke that the laughter got wrenched out of me. 

And just like that , we were back to being us again. Or at least, that's what I convinced myself of. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR’S NOTE : TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THOUGHT ....I WANTED THIS TO BE JUST PORN BUT APPARTENTLY I CANT WRITE ANYTHING WITHOUT ANGST FML. 

Also requests open :) 

[lunar-lair]

ok say hello to my insanely new oc who ive made entirely to be a villain who is still an excellent adult and a decent parent, probably. cares too much abt kids. think reigen mob psycho with a drop or two of milla. worked under Nick From The Mailroom and was actually in on his scheme.

has always been rather cold and brash towards adults, but is more caring towards kids. in my brain he has a brooklyn type accent? rough and tumble, walks around without a tie, yknow? they keep him cause he sorts mail real good, though.

(added a read more because this got INSANELY LONG AKSKSK i spent like an hr on this h)

he was a delugeionist, but only because he kinda just wanted to rip the world apart a little; lysandre vibes, thinks a lot of it is scum and needs to go. thinks the *psychonauts* are scum and need to go. hes psychic but suppressed it, think aquato parents but extra toxic about it, and straight up just saying being psychic is unnatural. wouldnt go to loboto parent lengths tho. so he adopted that thought of 'being psychic is unnatural and wrong', which contributed to a lot of self hate that was never learned out. likely, he realizes hes a shitty person and thinks he needs to go too. so like...yknow hank, dbh? kinda the vibe im gettin right now. way more formal, of course, and while usually gruff, is more polite when its needed; can and *will* beat the shit out of you verbally in a factual way, though, and can talk more street-lingo if hes talkin to real thugs. (probably winged it on his own after failing college or smth, hes got the vibes.)

anyways, its this plot where he slinks off and starts planting mistrust in the psychonauts or something. and inevitably he just...shows up and starts kidnapping people. dismantling things from the inside and all that. he left and formed a group who also hated psychics at some point, likely friends of his parents and friends of friends, all from his hometown. all of them fight *insanely* dirty, and a lot of them are insanely vulgar. the kids are supposed to be kept away.

but theres a line to follow here.

this man is a fold to raz. hates the psychonauts, hates being psychic, adopted his parent's hate of psychics, hates the *world.* raz is young and unburdened and unjaded...mostly. hes not the shock of water some young characters can be when it comes to being the foils of other characters; think steven with a villain or something, right? but raz is sassy and a little jaded, and not total sunshine positivity.

hes a child this man could look down on and not be immediately annoyed by, who is worried by yet respects raz's realization of the world as it is, however little that is.

and yet raz is still his foil. he still mostly loves the psychonauts, despite it all, he loves being psychic, for the most part, he dodged adopting his parents previous values, he still seems to have an even view of the world as a whole.

raz is jaded, if only a little, but he moved past it and accepted that things could still be bright. this man is jaded, but he stayed in his stormclouds, never looked for the sun.

ok where. was i. RIGHT ok so. at the beginning of this...story? the man finds raz being talked down to by one of the office workers; someone with weak psychic powers whos insanely jealous of his prowess. an adult who envies the young prodigy. and theyre giving him some insane task to do, like cleaning all of the closets within the hour, but hes saved the world twice, so he smiles and nods along, because he said he would help around the motherlobe, and this adult is asking him to do something that seems simple enough.

and this guy, internally, goes 'bitch.' for a good long second bc 1. dude even if you envy a kid, kinda fucked to show that?? not their fault 2. WHY are you asking a 10 year old to do that. why is there a 10 year old here. holy shit thats a 10 year old oh my god hes so tiny (no one told him there was a 10 year old because they knew hed stomp right up to management but. regardless. he is going to stomp up to management after this and no one can really stop him. except maybe raz well see)

so yknow. dude fixes his slight slouch and walks forward and politely tells this woman that 1. hes 10 why are you jealous of him and 2. hes 10????????? and shes like shit hes 10. and apologizes. and walks away

and raz is VERY ?? bc she was doing what? why is him being 10 important? and its that young part of you that gets pissed when people try to keep you from doing things because youre young and hes DEFINITELY yet to learn that piling responsibilites that should be handled by adults onto a child is fucked up in its own special way (looking at you ford, *nick*)

and the dude calmly explains because yea. he gets that. and he still sounds gruff and a little peeved but he squats down to razs height and he talks simply and factually, telling him straight on why it isnt right.

and. huh. people dont really do that for raz. except for sasha, sometimes, everyone likes to dodge the truth a lot with him, because hes 10, and sometimes, hes too nice to tug it out of them.

and this guy, this man that raz is already polishing a trophy for 'good adulting' in the back of his brain with his striking statements about how adults should handle things and kids should-kids should...get to have fun. not be traumatized.

for the shock on his face when raz said hed already saved the world a couple times, whats some closets. he reigned it in, said that its weird he saved the world, because thats usually their jobs.

and this guy offers his hand on instict before he stands up, even though he doesnt seem very sweet and kind like the adults that usually offer raz a hand. and he takes it, i think. he takes it.

warm. warm, a little nice.

reminds raz of his dad, maybe. he wonders if this man has any kids himself, but keeps his mouth shut, because he thinks he already has the answer, and its yes.

(he doesnt have any. he would wish he did, but he knows hed fail to raise them right.)

and when he stands, he asks raz what he was asking that woman for, and he says hes doing tasks around the motherlobe because his papers are still coming in. the man doesnt ask. (he knows what 'papers' means, realizes this is the tiny junior psychonaut every room in the damn place has been buzzing about, and he has fucking words for forsythe.) he just offers for the kid to sort mail under his supervision.

and that sounds boring. at least, it usually would.

this man is interesting, and a good...person? a good adult? hes...hes new. hes new, and calm, and a little like sasha but a lot not, and he thinks he trusts him.

so raz grins and says yea, mail sorting sounds nice.

(debatably, raz does not take his hand. hes too jaded when it comes to adults. debatably, he does not feel any warmth from this man who has taught him every adult has been telling him wrong. debatably, im projecting. but thats the whole point of ocs, hm?)

and then holes crop up in motherlobe systems. people are kidnapped.

raz keeps seeing the strange man, keeps telling him things, keeps hearing back, gruff and factual and a little annoyed, but raz can almost-just-barely tell its not at him, with the way he talks.

he can tell. he can tell.

he can never tell. this man is making sure he can tell.

raz trusts the man, is still polishing that trophy for 'best adulting' he has settling in the back of his mind.

and then the man comes with a militia.

he did not seem jaded. he did not seem hateful. he never showed any anger or hate towards raz.

but thats because he knows kids dont deserve it.

an excellent moral or two. a rotten, broken heart.

and at first, they keep the kids away, because these people fight dirty, because this isnt their battle, because the man has been sending emails about why 15 year olds are in a secret psychic agency.

(he does not mention raz. by razs second visit, he had just marked the boy down as another reason to hate the psychonauts as a whole, and especially its higher ups.

hes also regretting his alliance to nick by about the third. if he had known the man would puppet a child as if they were a toy, he would have organized his own rebellion ages ago.)

but eventually, the psychonauts need all hands on deck.

they send the children to find the missing agents.

the interns are fought on the way. some of them avoid the child, know the boss would pummel them.

they get to the base, and the strange man, the one with the broken trophy for 'best adult' (still barely-polished, because hes still so sure) still nestled in the back of razs brain, is still there.

the junior psychonauts are spotted. one of the guards throws a few rocks aimlessly.

they surprise them. one almost hits raz.

its intercepted instead.

and the other junior psychonauts watch as this man, their enemy, a villain, in their eyes, reprimands the other man for even accidentally daring, for even trying. for doing something they might have done just a month or so ago, if they had decided he was too much weirder than they already had.

and he yells something like, "Why the hell is he even here?! This is an enemy base, of whats a rebellion! This is a *10 year old*! What kind of adult sends a child *near* something like that?!" and he truly sounds angry this time, raz finds. hes too angry to keep it in. he still sounds gruff and oddly proper. raz is standing there, arms hanging. hes baffled in a specific way, the way he was every time the man's brow furrowed when he mentioned a harrowing story, the way he was the first day they met.

and he asks, a little quiet, a little small, a reminder of how young he really is, "Why are you still trying to keep me safe? We're supposed to be enemies now."

And his brow furrows further before flattening out, and he tilts onto one leg, and he swears he almost kneels to a knee.

He cant believe it. He really cant.

"You're 10." he says simply, softly, that factual way. "You shouldn't even be here."

and raz pauses. the interns freeze.

"...well, here I am."

and i think...it would be so intriguing if this was done halfway out of the mind, because this man is so against anything psychic. it would be so *compelling.*

so raz steps forward and asks again, asks why hes doing this.

and the mans eyes harden, he tries to turn off that soft heart, trying to remind himself of all that he hates. because he hates the psychonauts, because he sort of hates the world.

and raz asks why he could ever hate the psychonauts, head tilted, before listing off the few he knows to be true. but other than that, how? and ok, the world sucks a little, yea, hes seen that, gets that.

and he appreciates that this kid isnt totally gung ho about existence.

but he hates that he isnt, too.

and its this back and forth. everything the man hates, why he hates it. raz saying why its good but admitting why its bad.

and hes swayed, just a little.

but the man stands up from the kneel hed inevitably instinctively put himself into, and walks forward, hand held out yet again.

"You shouldn't be in the Psychonauts," he tells him, soft, factual, brow furrowed. "Come with me. I'll bring you back to your parents, or wherever it is you want to go."

raz contemplates. thinks, for a long moment.

he grabs the mans hand, warm and firm, yet again, for a terrifying moment.

before he reaches up to slap a mental door on his forehead, and astral projects into it.

he thinks this man is good. thinks hes just jaded.

thinks hes the best adult hes ever met, one who just happens to hate a lot of things.

hes only 10.

hes not letting someone who can tell him so clearly whats wrong and right for adults to tell him go that easily.

aaaand yknow. raz does his razzy thing. learns about why the guy hates the world and the psychonauts and himself. helps him learn that its not all bad, that he was excellent to raz, and still is, that things can be bad and good all at once.

the man concedes that raz is very capable, very smart, and can do a lot. but that doesnt mean he should have to.

raz tells him, though, that he likes working for the psychonauts. its his dream. and he realizes some things he was told to do were kinda screwed up, now. that maybe, in honesty, he was dealt a bad hand.

but hes done what he can with that hand, and he ended up with a royal flush.

and uh! yknow!! then raz leaves his mind and he calls off the rebellion! its like a rhombus of ruin type adventure, except without the villain being present beforehand. its just not clustered in insanely close with a ton of other wild shit.

anyways this got really long? sorry?? its an oc i just saw good adult and slight father vibe potential in the vibe i instantly got on him and then i went feral???? rip maybe someone will read this and if you did. congrats i honestly really liked how the whole foil and good-yet-bad and consideration of raz being 10 thing worked out. this oc is almost like our representative in the psychonauts world the way reigen is for the audience in mp100. yea :) i match them up a lot but thats just cause they vibe a lot. anyways its 1:40 am now and i spent abt an hour on this hope it vibed mildly byeeee

[xpeachesncream]

off the grid | three

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 2.4k

chapter warnings: cussing / mature language, definitely inaccurate depiction of transportation, events and whereabouts in South Korea since i only did my research thru the internet, jimin continues to be cute as fuck for being such an angel

> series masterlist <

"Jimin!" You whined as he had hurriedly grabbed the check from the waitress and politely shoved it back in her hand with his card.

"I just wanted you to enjoy your lunch." He laughed at your pouty face - brows furrowed, lips poking out.

"That doesn't mean I can't pay for my own food."

"Can you relax? It's fine. If anything, you can just get me when we grab dessert later."

"Sure, if you don't beat me to it again."

"Maybe it's your reflexes."

"Wow, I'm a little appalled at that statement. Already judging me?"

"Never that, just being honest." He smiled. "Okay, I'm joking. Don't kill me." He laughed as he stood up and gathered his stuff. You two were spending some time going around Insa-Dong before heading to a park near the N Seoul Tower later tonight to chill.

Besides beaming with kindness, Jimin was patient. He let you walk around wherever, doing whatever, without complaining. He was also very smart, giving the inside scoop with the added bonus of tips and tricks and reciting historical facts when the perfect opportunity arose. He made fun of you for buying small, cute souvenirs because it seemed like a never ending collection, but nonetheless, he really enjoyed how happy you looked. How you glowed. How down to earth and laid back you were. Even though it hadn't been long since you met, you weren't reserved and you took him in (as he was) with ease. He was normally a shy person, but he appreciated the warmth that radiated from you. He felt comfortable, almost like you both had known each other for years.

"Come on, Y/N." He laughed. "Really? How many more pins and stickers do you need?"

"Jimin, you need to lower your voice." You joked.

"I'm sorry." He began to raise his voice, causing others to turn towards you two. "HOW MANY MORE PINS-"

"Oh my god, okay! Stop! I'll drop it!" He laughed and prevented you from dropping your items down.

"I'm just playing. I'll stop." It hit you that his hand still lingered on yours, so you quickly drop it down before shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I promise this is it." You shrugged. "For now." You kept smirking at him over your shoulder before you happily walked over to the counter. After slipping the small shopping bag into your bigger shopping bag, you met Jimin outside of the shop who had been taking pictures of the street with his polaroid camera. "Do you always do this?"

"Take pictures? Yeah, I like holding onto the memories, as cliché as that sounds. They really do hold a lot of meaning for me."

"No, I think that's pretty cool."

"Do you mind?" He slightly rose his camera towards you.

"If you take pictures of me?" He nodded silently. "No, I don't."

"Thanks. It'll add a nice touch to my collection." He quickly snapped a picture of you smiling.

The two of you continued to walk around, with Jimin making sure you didn't miss anything significant. He led the way majority of the time, dancing when he would hear music playing on the street, mimicking ads posted on the walls or simply taking more pictures. When you both had your fill of the area, he drove to a nearby bbq restaurant where you could get some jajangmyeon, samgyeopsal and other entrees ready made for takeout before grabbing dessert on the way to the park. You held onto the food while he grabbed a blanket from the trunk of his car and laid it on the grass so you two could dig in and eat.

"That's a nice ass view." You said, staring at the tower up ahead.

"I could take you up there another day. There isn't much, but the view at the tower is amazing."

"I bet."

"So, what made you want to come to here?" All this time you had been spending with Jimin had been occupied by all the plans that you hadn't been able to really talk about this. You hadn't been able to divulge about the dirty details of all things home.

"I really just wanted a break from the chaos." You shrugged.

"Mmm, really painting a great picture of Los Angeles right now." He said sarcastically before he covered his mouth to laugh.

"Sorry, it's a great place, really. I honestly can't see myself anywhere else." You sighed. "I just.. felt myself slipping, you know? I was getting lost in all the work I had to get done, all the projects on my plate. At one point I felt so stuck that I really questioned if I belonged. I'm turning 26 soon and I still feel lost."

"Impostor syndrome?"

"Yes, that."

"Why? You made it that far, haven't you? May I ask what you do back home?"

"I work in translational science." His eyes widened.

"Wow, that's amazing. You came this far, Y/N. Why would you doubt yourself like that?"

"I guess I just always feel like I need to prove myself to everyone around me."

"In work or in general?"

"It was starting to feel like I had to prove myself in general."

"That's not fair. I know it's easier said than done, but you shouldn't do that to yourself. From what I can tell, you're a great person who's down to earth and enjoys life as it comes. There's nothing wrong with that. You're where you're at for a reason. I'm sure your friends and parents are really proud of you."

"Thanks." You smiled softly. "Yeah, my parents are pretty great."

"Yeah? See, that's good. What are your parents like?"

"Well, my dad is the executive director of another lab, while my mom is a pediatric nurse."

"So, science and healthcare revolves around your family."

"Pretty much. My dad is the reason why I got so interested in pursuing a career in science. He would always teach me things growing up and I always enjoyed going to science museums with him. That's all I wanted to do."

"That's cute." He smiled. "You're really close to your parents, then."

"Yeah, I am."

"Do they know you're here?" You nodded.

"Yeah. They were just sad I didn't join them on their Europe holiday trip."

"What?! You turned that down to come here? You're something else." You laughed and tossed a crumpled napkin at him, making him dodge it.

"Hey! I told you. I just wanted to do something solo. Something different."

"I mean, are you really doing it solo if you're here with me?" He smirked.

"I'm leaving."

"No, I'm kidding." He laughed as he put his hand out to stop you. "I know, I know. For the record, I'm glad you're hanging out with me and letting me show you around."

"Nice save, Park."

"You got it, sweetness." He winked, making you shake your head at the pet name.

"What about you? What's up with you and your family? I can tell you and Yana are close."

"Yeah, we are. I'm really happy about the relationship we have. She's my older sister and she's done a lot for me. A lot." He emphasized. "I can't help but feel super protective of her. I feel like I want to shield her from the world sometimes because she's such a good person and I don't want to see her get hurt, you know? It hurts me." You nodded silently. "I know part of the reason why she agreed to this whole thing was because of her ex." You swallowed the lump in your throat because same. Fucking same.

"I get that. That's really sweet of you."

"As for the rest of my family, I mean.." He sighed. "Yeah, we're all close. I love my mom and dad. I'd do anything for them, no question about that. They've always been supportive. But, sometimes I can't help but feel like I disappoint them."

"Why do you say that? Only if you feel comfortable, though." And he did. Jimin really did. He wasn't much to talk about his personal details because he was so busy trying to make sure his people were good, that people he cared for were okay. He barely had time to look out for himself, but he didn't mind it. All he wanted was for his people to be good. If that could happen, then all was well. Plus, he would hate to have to burden someone with such negative thoughts. It wasn't the happiest topic for him.

"I do." He softly smiled at you, his eyes wide and round like a puppy. He ran his hand through his hair before adjusting his position on the blanket. You couldn't help but feel weak at the sight of him. Sheesh. He could do the bare minimum and it would still be so attractive. "My sister is super smart and successful. She's worked so hard to get to where she is now. I mean, she works for a really popular magazine here. She started as an intern, then worked her way up and now she's close to creating her own clothing line. It's been her dream and she really worked to make it happen."

"That's amazing."

"Isn't it? She's such a boss." He shook his head. "And then there's me." He scoffed. "I went to school for business, with a minor in art. But that's about it for me. I don't really know what I want to do or how to go about making my degree useful." He used air quotes. "I honestly just don't even know. I got through school just fine, but I never had set plans for myself. I help my mom and dad at their cafe, then that's it." He shrugged.

"Jimin, you still have so much time to figure out what you want to do. Don't beat yourself up just because you didn't get there as quickly as Yana or other people. Your path isn't theirs and vice versa."

"It just gets hard, you know? I want to make them proud."

"And I'm sure they are. They always will be. You have so much to offer to the world, no doubt. You'll be able to show that in time."

"Thanks Y/N, I needed to hear that. Really." He smiled. "Just you listening makes me feel better."

"You should make more time for yourself, Jimin." You already could tell what kind of person Jimin was. One that always made time for everyone but himself. One who was completely and utterly selfless.

"I know, I'm working on it." He scooped into his ice cream cup. "So, enough of me." He chuckled. "Back to you."

"What else can I say about me?"

"I don't know, Y/N. I'm sure you have a lot you can say about yourself besides being a badass scientist." You chuckled. "Is that really the only reason why you came to Seoul? To get a break from LA and work?"

"If I'm being completely honest, no." He nodded as he continued to keep his attention on scooping more of his ice cream. "I'm actually in the same boat as Yana with the whole ex situation." You scoffed. "It sounds pathetic coming from me, I know."

"No." He shook his head. "No, it doesn't."

"I dated this guy for almost 5 years. But, it was so on and off and inconsistent during the last year. After we officially broke up, I couldn't separate myself from him, even if he was treating me like shit. Like a convenience. He would come around whenever he wanted to, even though he was already seeing other girls and playing his games. I was so tired of crying and feeling hurt over the fact that I was so replaceable. I was longing to find myself again."

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I can't apologize on his behalf, but you definitely don't deserve that."

"It is what it is."

"No, it's not. Someone who is more worried about getting their ego boosted than treating someone right doesn't deserve your time. None of this was your fault and I really hope you know that."

"It took me a long time to see it that way, of course. It was really difficult. I always questioned what was wrong with me."

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you. Please hear me when I say that. I know we haven't known each other for long, but I really mean it. You're beautiful, smart and you have a lot of things going for you. If he can't fit in that equation, then fuck it. That's on him and that's his loss." You chuckled.

"Thanks, Jimin."

"Of course." He tilted his head to the side as he smiled. He continued to stare for a bit longer, eyeing all of your features and taking it all in. You were really beautiful to him. A work of art. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you away, but he felt compelled to be by your side while you were around. He just wanted to keep spending time with you, getting to know you and making you happy. That became his goal. "So, uh. I have a couple of more places I'd like to take you to, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, of course. I'm down to see everything and anything I can while I'm still here."

"I'll do my best." He chuckled. After you both finished up your ice cream, you threw out the empty containers and packed up the blanket before heading back home. You knew you were going to keep spending more time with Jimin and his friends, but you were beginning to feel a little sad parting ways at the end of the night. You gave Jimin a tight hug and said your goodnights before shutting the door. You threw your shoes off to the side and took a quick shower before plopping yourself into the warm sheets. Yoongi had left you a voicemail you hours ago, but you had been so caught up that you hadn't checked your phone until now. You weren't going to call back due to the time change. Namjoon and Yoongi were for sure knocked the hell out. They wouldn't hear a thing.

"Oyyy," Yoongi's raspy voice came up on the voicemail. "Just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing down there. Namjoon is out running errands but I think he's gonna be hanging out with Yana again. Call me back when you get a chance. But not when it's like 4 or 5AM here please. Take care of yourself and be safe."

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance, Chapter 8: Heartbreak and Lattes

From the Beginning,  Previous Chapter

AO3 Link

Only announcement for this week: I've started a new job, and my schedule is such that a weekly update is unlikely without the quality being verrrry questionable. Therefore, I've decided to move off a set schedule, but I PROMISE I will update at least twice a month. Thank you for your patience and understanding; I know a set schedule is preferable but I wanna make sure this doesn't go to shit. Also... apparently this isn’t showing up in the tags I use, which sucks - so reblogs help a lot if you’re able. I love you guys <3

Summary: You’re the BAU’s newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter Summary:  In which decisions are made and overturned and many cups of coffee are drunk.

Words: 2666

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Warnings on AO3.

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

You were sulking.

Not enough to affect your work - you’d have to go through something much worse than heartbreak before you risked your internship. But your home life was beginning to resemble a timelapse straight out of an overdramatic teen movie wherein the protagonist’s crush asks someone else to prom. Your apartment was a pile of half-done laundry, takeout containers, and case files; your evenings filled with sad Spotify playlists and too much red wine. 

And work? Not much better. Seeing him stride into the office every morning, filled with power and purpose and completely oblivious to the fact that he had shoved your heart into a metaphorical blender with a simple response to a seemingly innocuous question was really starting to wear you down. You had been so sure, that was the thing - so convinced by the team’s reaction to your story that it had all meant something. And maybe it had. But he had looked you in the face and told you it didn’t, so that was the answer that mattered.

So maybe sulking was the wrong word. ‘Spiraling’ was more accurate. A controlled spiral, mitigated only by the fact that 1. you had appearances and responsibilities to maintain and 2. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t actually the reason you showed up to work every morning, despite what it had seemed lately.

And it had seemed like that. You remembered getting the phone call that you had been accepted for an interview for the BAU internship, and the phone call that you made it to the final round, and finally the phone call that you had gotten the position - each more exciting than the last. You remembered meeting him, shaking his hand, completely oblivious to how much he was about to fuck up your life. Even when you first started to feel something for him, you convinced yourself it was nothing - a harmless crush wrought from your veneration and respect for one of the best in the field. Someone you admired. Someone you wanted to be one day. But then he’d made the unfortunate move of revealing bits and pieces of himself to you, exposing tiny slivers of humanity and emotion you were convinced didn’t exist, until you realized he was a person, an incredible one, and it wasn’t just admiration you felt anymore. It took all of a few months and a handful of genuine conversations until you were this far gone, and after he made it clear that your pining was one-sided, you knew you had to stop your fall there. 

So you tried.

You kept your conversations strictly professional. Avoided driving with him or sitting next to him on flights whenever possible. Disallowed yourself lingering glances. But it was still too goddamn much. He was still too goddamn much.

The next case pushed you over the edge. It was bad (not just normal bad, BAU bad), and it was no one’s fault, not really. You got called in late, the evidence was shoddy at best, and when all was said and done, you caught the unsub, but only after he’d killed 4 women. The last one died moments before you arrived and apprehended the killer, and despite the delay of those few minutes being, again, no one’s fault, the team was at each other’s throats the whole trip home. 

You were slouched in the corner of the plane trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Morgan and Reid were sniping viciously about something completely unrelated to the case, because despite everything they’d just endured, they would never outright blame each other for what went wrong. Hotch, deciding he’d heard enough, raised his head slightly and said quietly,

“They’re not always going to end the way we want. We did all we could.”

And you were just done. You couldn’t stand to be around this pillar of strength and compassion and resolve. You needed to hate him for rejecting you, and you couldn’t. So you marched over to his seat, and, steeling yourself, you said what you’d been wanting to say since he broke your heart:

“I need a day off.”

It had sounded more dramatic in your head.

“A day off?”

You nodded. Hotch gathered himself, seeming to realize that such a request wasn’t unheard of (though perhaps in his department it essentially was) and nodded. 

“This case was difficult. I wish I could say exceptionally so. Get me your paperwork by tonight and take tomorrow off.”

You went back to your seat, relief overshadowed by disgust that it wasn’t, in fact, the 4 deaths you’d just been privy to that had broken you - it was the crush on your boss. You’d handled this case like a champ, in fact, because you were so absorbed in self-pity that you couldn’t feel anything else.

You needed to fucking recalibrate.

***

You were determined to make the next 24 hours the most self-indulgent, healing 24 hours you’d ever experienced. Quiet breakfast at a cafe? Planned. Self-improvement books? Downloaded. Vibrator? Fully charged. 

No man was going to keep you from focusing on the internship you’d been gunning for for years. No man was worth that. You were going to cry, you were going to journal, you were going to masturbate, and you were going to get him out of your head.

You were going to march into the quaint little coffeeshop two blocks away that you’d Googled last night, you were going to order the cinnamon spice latte that an indie food blog had called “the epitome of fall,” and you were going to go for a nice, early morning walk.

Except you weren’t. 

Because the next morning, when you turned to leave after grabbing your drink from the barista, you saw Hotch sitting at the table by the window. And Hotch saw you. And you weren’t equipped to handle this situation, because you were only 4 pages into your self-help book so far and honestly, the smile that lit up his face when you made eye contact would’ve broken you even if you’d read all the ‘how to move on’ manuals the literary world had ever produced.

So you obeyed his beckoning hand and sat down. 

“Thought you’d be up to something much more exciting on your one day off.”

You smiled wryly. “This is exciting. I haven’t had coffee that wasn’t made out of an ancient breakroom pot or a hotel carafe in months.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake by coming here. Breakroom coffee is going to be impossible to tolerate now.”

“That good, huh?”

“Better. Try it.”

His eyes on you, you took a sip of your latte, and swallowed the most delicious concoction you’ve ever tasted in your life.

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed,” Hotch confirmed, ignoring your vulgarity. “I’ve been coming here before work for years.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I impose on your hangout,” you laughed. “I haven’t tried many coffee shops around here, but I imagine this is hard to beat.”

“Not at all. But just know - this is my table.”

You grinned. “Understood.”

You still went on that walk. Still read that book. Still spent the day trying to think about anything else but the softness of that moment - you and Hotch sipping lattes, bathed in the light of the early morning sun.

But on Thursday, the next day, bright and early, you found yourself at that coffee shop again. This time, you took a seat at the table adjacent to his. He looked up and smiled.

“Glad you heeded my advice.”

You smiled back and gestured to the heaping pile of files in front of him. “Not like there’d be much room for me anyways.”

You finished your coffees in relative silence and left at the same time for the office.

Friday, you learned Hotch’s coffee order: flat white with an extra shot of espresso. 

Saturday, you happened to arrive before he did, so you ordered his drink and set it on his table. Ten minutes passed and you thought he wasn’t going to show up, but he soon bustled in looking frantic. You waved him over, and he smiled when he saw the coffee waiting for him.

“Sorry, got stuck on a phone call,” he apologized. Like you were expecting him. Like this was something you guys did now.

You supposed it was.

Sunday, you got called for a case before you even made it to the coffee shop. You sat down in the conference room at 6 am, groggy as all hell. Hotch entered after you and handed you a mug, saying nothing before moving to address the team.

There was a small sticky note attached to the mug that read, “It’s no cinnamon spice latte, but it’s caffeine just the same.”

You fought to keep a grin from splitting your face, and ignored the team’s knowing smirks.

The case was in a small town in Colorado. The motel the team was staying in was less than ideal because of the location - bare bones, broken heaters, probably had the same bedsheets since its opening over 50 years ago. There was a small coffee pot in your room, and after you arrived Sunday evening, you walked down the street to the small convenience store and bought a bag of ground coffee.

When you handed him the cup Monday morning, he looked at it like it was salvation itself. Which, judging by the dark circles under his eyes, it may well have been.

“Long night?” you asked, loading into the back of the SUV. 

“Always,” he responded from the front seat. He took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t mean to offend, but this is terrible.”

You gasped in mock indignation. “I’ll have you know that is genuine Folgers pre-ground gas station coffee.”

“It tastes like it was made in a toilet,” he grumbled. He took another sip and smirked at you in the rearview mirror.

You’d long stopped trying to get over him.

 After the case in Colorado, the team was given a merciful break from the rapid-fire calls they’d been caught up in the last few months. 

You and Hotch continued your pre-work ritual, showing up to the coffee shop earlier and earlier each day. For you, it was a conscious attempt to spend more time with him. He didn’t acknowledge the extra 20 minutes that had worked its way into the morning routine, but you could only hope his intentions were the same.

One particularly chilly fall day, you burst in the door 10 minutes later than your unofficial meeting time. Hotch shot you a patented raised eyebrow as you unwrapped your scarf and took your seat. 

“Overslept?”

“No,” you retorted, “I was trying to make breakfast and my stove stopped working. Again. Maintenance can’t come fix it for two days.”

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No, I was just gonna grab a muffin or something here.”

He nodded and went back to his laptop.

The next day, you sat down to a metal thermos on your table.

“What’s this?” you asked him.

“Oatmeal,” he responded without looking up. “You said your stove was broken.”

You opened the thermos to a puff of brown sugar-scented steam and the feeling that your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, afraid your voice would crack if you spoke any louder.

He looked over at you with an expression softer than you’d ever seen him wear. “You’re welcome.”

 A week later, you’d miraculously worked your way through the backed-up deluge of paperwork from the last few cases, and after clicking through the morning’s emails, you slammed your laptop shut.

“We should go for a walk,” you said to Hotch, who somehow still had a stack of files in front of him that was threatening to surpass the table’s weight capacity. 

“A walk?” Hotch asked, looking at the aforementioned files as if he were afraid they’d hear him considering the idea of a break.

“Yeah,” you responded. “Come on. It’s so pretty outside, and it’s gonna be too cold soon. Besides, we’re more caught up with work than we have been in months.”

“Speak for yourself,” he quipped, but he packed his briefcase just the same.

It really was beautiful outside. As soon as you stepped out the door, a gust of wind sent red and orange leaves skittering across the sidewalk at your feet. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck and motioned to the park across the street.

“Want to walk through the park?”

Hotch shrugged, a noncommittal ‘yes’, and followed you.

The park was sprawling, packed with massive trees in the midst of displaying their autumnal colors. Despite the early hour, there were joggers and dog-walkers populating the dirt path that meandered through. You strolled side by side, making idle chat about the weather and the holidays coming up, until you came to a bench set beside a pond in a small grove. Hotch took a seat and you followed his lead.

Reclining your head against the back of the bench, you exhaled. “This is the closest I’ve come to being out in nature in forever. I need to do this more often.”

Hotch murmured his agreement. “I’d apologize for the lack of free time, but I’m afraid it only gets worse.”

“When you officially join the team, you mean?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “Assuming that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Of  course I am,” you said, “but I didn’t think it was really up to me.”

“It’s not - I give the final recommendation.”

“Better start buying you more coffees then,” you teased, looking over at him.

“Unfortunately, as Unit Chief, I have a responsibility not to accept bribery.” He smiled back.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You studied his face - the stern curve of his brow, the carved structure of his jaw, the stress lines set in from decades of sleepless nights and unspeakable losses. Despite the increasing time you’d been spending in close proximity, you were mesmerized, as always, by the stormy intensity of his eyes meeting yours. You were close enough to smell his cologne, and you were reminded of the night in his apartment when he told you about his family. If you thought you’d fallen for him then, it was nothing compared to how you felt now, after starting each morning sitting beside him in the quiet peace of that downtown coffee shop.

“We should get going,” he murmured, not checking his watch, not shifting his gaze from yours. You nodded, not fully comprehending his words, feeling dazed at his nearness.

It was impossible to tell who made the first, imperceptible shift. All you knew is you scarcely had time to think before his hand was on your jaw, cradling the back of your head, bringing you to him. His mouth met yours and you closed your eyes instinctively, melting into his warm body beside you, fisting the front of his jacket in your hands.

You couldn’t remember ever having been kissed so decisively before. His fingers gripped into the base of your skull, his forehead nearly pressed against yours, and despite the chastity of your closed mouths, you whimpered into his. He stiffened at the sound and pulled back, still holding you, inches away.

You saw the shift in his eyes before he moved. It was as if he consciously closed some gate, walling himself off. His pupils, blown, started to retract to their normal size, frown returned, hand drew back. You watched, heart still racing, unable to speak as he turned to grab the briefcase sitting at his feet. Only then did he look back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and if his low voice was meant to betray any hint of emotion, you didn’t hear it. 

He stood, walked around the back of the bench towards the path, and paused.

“I’ll see you at the office.”

You were too shell-shocked to reply.

[dynamightsfave]

Solitary ghost - Reggie Peters

(gif not mine! credits to owner)

reggie peters x ghost!oc

summary: reggie takes it upon himself to make friends with the antipathic, solitary ghost the band meets after a concert

warnings: mentions of death and suicide, mentions of child abuse swears

masterlist

***

Luna “Moony” Joy did justice to her last name. She was a bubbly girl, full of energy and positivity. Or at least she used to be, until her adoptive family died on a fire, leaving her an orphan and in foster care... again. How she jumped from house to house and ended up going all the way across the country is not something she likes to talk about. She doesn’t really like to talk at all.

Two years later, a Brooklynn girl died in L.A. after “falling” off a cliff, and she didn’t have to worry about any more foster homes. What she did have to worry about —and oh, how she wishes she didn’t have to— is her afterlife. “I died just so I could stay in the world for eternity. Fucking great”

Luna stayed away from other ghosts for the most part. She didn’t want help, she didn’t want guidance, and she most certainly didn’t want company. She tried to find her unfinished business so she could finally cross over and “leave this fucking place once and for all”, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t very surprised. What unfinished business could a foster kid possibly have? Too many, probably.

So Moony spent her days as a solitary ghost walking around the city, and avoiding Caleb Covington and that skater boy of his. The magician just couldn’t get in his head that she wanted nothing to do with him. Unfortunately for her, that didn’t save her from three particularly annoying ghosts.

[...]

It was Luke who found her.

They had performed at a local place a few weeks after they performed at The Orpheum, and Luna just so happened to pass by. The dark haired girl stopped when she heard the music, and figured that she might as well stay until the end. It wasn’t like she had somewhere to be anyways. The three boys poofed out of the scenario and appeared behind her, grinning like idiots at the applauding crowd. The bassist and the drummer were too preoccupied to notice the girl in front of them, the only one that wasn’t clapping or had a smile on.

“Hey” Luke nudged at the boys at either side of him with a frown, and jerked his head in her direction “She’s just standing there after we rocked this place. She’s not even fazed”

“Maybe’s just not her type of music” Alex suggested, not thinking much of it.

“Or maybe she hated it” the smile didn’t leave Reggie’s face as he nonchalantly stated his theory, oblivious to his bandmates frowns.

“You know, she can hear you, assholes” Luna rolled her eyes, scowling at them and turning around to leave through the wall.

“Woah- Wait!” Luke ran after her, and the other two followed “H-Hey! You’re a ghost too!”

“No shit Sherlock” she completely ignored them and kept walking.

“So you didn’t like our music? Why not?”

“Listen, I don’t know who you are, and frankly I don’t care either” she stopped and turned to the ghosts, who tumbled against each other abruptly “I really don’t care about your music either, so I would appreciate it if you stopped following me”

“Why are you being so rude?”

“Why are you being so nosy?” she shot back at Luke with a glare “Do you work for him? Like I said to your boss and his scout before, I don’t want in in your little club. I’m fine by my own. Leave me the hell alone”

With that, she poofed away, deciding that appearing in her place would be the best option. The band stood there dumbfounded staring at her now empty spot.

“What a bitch” the lead guitarist finally spoke.

“She asked if we worked for someone and then said she didn’t want in in our club... You don’t think Caleb’s after her, right?” Alex didn’t know her, but nobody deserved to go through what they had with those stamps.

“Who cares? Let’s go home” Luke patted his friend’s shoulder and started to go back to look for Julie.

Alex followed, but Reggie stood frozen for a moment. The girl was pretty, but that wasn’t what struck him. She looked sad, alone and overall unhappy. There was no spark in her eyes whatsoever, nothing that made her look alive —she wasn’t exactly alive, more like the opposite, but you know what he means. The Peters boy frowned at the floor, he wanted to know why she was like that. Wait, no, scratch that. He wanted to change that. Reggie Peters wanted to see how much prettier the unknown girl looked when smiling.

[...]

He made it his mission to find her. He went out looking for her while Julie was at school and Ray at work, and Luke and Alex were doing who knows what. Reggie basically padded all downtown L.A. trying to at least get a glimpse of the dark clothes that the Korean girl sported the night before. It took him a while, but he found her.

Reggie couldn’t even remember when he thought about visiting the observatory, but when he spotted the black clad ghost, he was glad he did.

“Hey, you’re the girl from last night! The one that didn’t like our music” he beamed, even when she just looked at him bored “I didn’t get to introduce myself, you were arguing with Luke. Hi, I’m Reggie” but Luna only stared at his hand for a moment and continued to look at the view.

Reggie didn’t sweat it, he just leaned against handrail next to her and stared at the view too. Luna didn’t say anything to him, she hated his presence there —like, what the hell was he doing, couldn’t he leave or something?

“Can you leave?” she turned to the boy.

“Nope. I want friends, other than my bandmates and Julie. Luke is always in his music or pestering Julie, Alex is with his crush —or boyfriend, I’m not sure anymore— and Julie is at school, and even if Luke goes annoy her, she’s been very strict about boundaries lately. I have Ray, but he can’t see me” he quickly explained, although Luna didn’t look like she cared “Can you at least tell me your name? I’ll stay quiet and won’t bother you if you do” he begged.

Luna looked at him —like really looked at him— for a moment. That moment felt like ages for Reggie, her dark brown eyes seemed to be scrutinizing every inch of his soul, but he didn’t back down. He was determined to make her afterlife good, no matter how long it took. They did have an eternity, after all.

Really, the dark haired girl wasn’t reading him. She hardly knew him, she just knew his name and that he had a really nosy friend and another that looked like an anxious baby. But Luna was meditating about her answer. There was something telling her that this Reggie wouldn’t leave her alone for whatever reason —because wanting more friends wasn’t an acceptable answer for him to have been looking around the whole city for her like she knew he had done— and this was most likely the best she’d get.

“Luna” she finally said, avoiding his eyes.

“Like the moon?” he asked with an amused smile, but erased it from his face once he met her eyes again “Right, I’m shutting up now”

Reggie did shut up... for about ten minutes. Then he started talking again, and he told her about how he became a ghost, hoping the story of dying because of a hot dog would at least put a smile on her face, it seemed to make everyone laugh. But it didn’t have the same effect on this girl, who only rolled her eyes and called them stupid for eating something that came out of a car.

[...]

It happened daily. Luna would be minding her business, “enjoying” her time alone, and Reggie would appear out of nowhere. He stayed silent for about fifteen minutes, and then started talking about whatever he could think of. She didn’t know how he always managed to find her, or why, but she had given up on trying to hide from him. She had enough with hiding from Caleb, and the beaming boy hadn’t asked about her, so it was bearable.

“Why don’t you tell me something about you?” never mind.

“No” Luna quickly dismissed “You said you wouldn’t bother me”

“Oh, come on, Luna. I just wanna learn something about you! I’ve told tons about me. And before you say you don’t know why the hell I do this, I don’t want you to be alone. No one deserves to be left alone, even after they died”

“I said I don’t want anyone’s company! And you still come bother me every day!” she shouted and moved her arms wildly, missing the way the boy in front of her flinched and cowered back a little “God, do you not listen?! Read the room, idiot! I don’t want you here!”

Luna didn’t know, but that last sentence struck Reggie like a ton of bricks mixed with lightning. Worse than Caleb’s stamp, and worse than Julie’s outburst at them when they let her down. Her yelling and moving her arms like that, that phrase, it brought him right back to his house. To when his parents shouted and argued for the smallest things, and Lord help him if they saw him, because then... well then it got worse. Way worse.

“I-I’m sorry” he muttered and looked down “I’ll leave you alone, don’t worry”

Reggie’s face had fallen, and he looked hurt, something that Luna hadn’t seen on him since he started bothering her. Then he poofed away, and the Korean girl was left alone. Which for some reason didn’t feel as good as she wanted. There was something inside of her that was bothering her more than Reggie’s constant banter, and that was the absence of it. She didn’t like to admit it, but the boy’s blabbering had become part of her day, and somewhere in between telling him to shut up and scowling at him —which he both blatantly ignored, by the way— she had begun to enjoy his presence. It made her days. He made her feel not so alone, or depressed, and the fact that she had made him feel that way didn’t sit right on her.

“Goddammit” she groaned internally.

The girl poofed away. Something else Luna didn’t like to admit was that she actually listened to everything Reggie told her, so she knew a little about the boy, and the first thing she looked for him was where his house used to be. The bike shack next to the noodle place at the beach. Sure enough, Luna spotted his leather jacket sat down on the sand, looking down and digging his finger in it. She started to walk in his direction, her Doc Martens felt weirdly hesitant and timid in contrast to how confident and defiant they usually marched.

The Joy girl stopped next to her... “friend”. Could she call him a friend? She had been nothing but mean and cold to the poor guy, while he had obviously tried his best to get the slightest of smiles from her. For some reason, Reggie still considered her a friend, he had said so a few times in the past month.

A quivering breath fell from her lips. Luna knew that Reggie had noticed her, but had chosen to ignore her. “I deserve that”

“Hi” it was the first time she greeted him first, and it was strange. She refused to let his silence appall her, so she sat down next to him “My full name is Luna Joy, kinda ironic, huh?” still no response; she sighed “Reggie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you for no reason, you’ve just been trying to be nice. Believe it or not, I really appreciate your visits, as annoying as the are” the chuckle from the back of her throat felt foreign. It had been long since she let a genuine one out, instead of a dry, sarcastic one.

“Did you just laugh?”

“I wouldn’t call it a laugh; it was more like a chuckle-”

“Oh nononono! None of that! No excuses! You laughed!” he pointed at her with the finger that had previously been drawing aimlessly in the sand, his face back to looking like a child in a toy store.

Luna couldn’t help the warm feeling in her chest —she didn’t know ghosts could still feel like that, but then again, she didn’t know she could still feel like that— nor the small smile that creeped into her lips.

“And now you’re smiling! This is the best thing ever!”

“Okay, relax” she chuckled again, and this time it did sound like a laugh “Don’t let this get to you, Reginald Peters, it’s not like it’s gonna happen all the time” she teased with a smirk.

“Wanna bet, Luna Joy?” he answered with a matching smirk.

“Oh, God, I’m already regretting this” she buried her head in her arms and knees “Does this mean I’m forgiven? I really am sorry”

“Yeah, it’s all forgotten. But you have to tell me more about you”

“What do you wanna know?”

“Anything. Everything” if Luna still had blood, she was sure she would’ve blushed from the intensity of his gaze.

“Well, when I was alive and had friends, my family and them used to call me Moony, because of my name and Luna Lovegood and Remus Lupin from Harry Potter”

“Can I call you that?” Reggie quickly asked.

Luna pondered about it for a few seconds before nodding.

“I don’t see why not. We’re friends, right?” she sent a small smile, and the boy smiled brighter.

[...]

It was Luna’s turn to blabber nonstop. She was hesitant at first, but soon started to let loose, and although it seemed impossible, the old Luna Joy came back when she was with Reggie. She started to enjoy herself more when he visited, liked to talk with him about anything, and went along with any kind of idea he had. Reggie found out that Moony was nothing like the first time they met, and he was pretty proud of himself for making her comfortable enough to let her walls down.

At some point, they found themselves falling for each other, and Luna felt like she could shit her pants when she realized. She didn’t know how to handle it, it was strange and she was scared. Reggie on the other side, he smiled as big as he could when it clicked for him, causing Julie to ask him what had him so happy.

“I like a girl” he answered without shame, and suddenly he was being interrogated by the lead singer of the band.

Oh, but when their next hang out came... That was another story. Luna didn’t want to be awkward and Reggie didn’t want to come off too obvious.

They both did a terrible job.

“You’re being awkward” he whined.

“Well you’re clingier than normal” she responded instantly.

There was a silence that followed in which they stared at each other.

“I’m scared” Luna whispered after a moment, and Reggie furrowed his brows.

“What? Why?” he moved closer, hoping to bring comfort to the girl.

“I don’t think I’ve been this close with someone ever, other than my mom” she confessed.

Reggie knew all about her foster system experience, from before and after she got adopted. They had had very deep conversations many times, and in one of them, Luna decided to tell him about her family, and eventually why she died. The bassist had let her break down in his arms and not judged her when she told him that she took her life and how angry she was after appearing back as a ghost. He just hugged her tighter and then told her about his family.

He told her about Luke and Alex and Bobby, and all their adventures and what they went through in their lives. Then he told her about his new family, and how he considered the Molinas and Flynn part of his little family, even if the only one that could actually interact with him was Julie. After that, Reggie told Luna about his parents. He had a hard time telling her, but the girl didn’t push him, knowing how touchy subjects could hurt, and talking about them was a huge effort. So she let him take his time, listening to how his parents never seemed to stop fighting, and how they even got him in between them. Luna was hardly containing her tears when he got to the part where his dad had gotten his hands on him a couple times. Luna brought him into an embrace, and they stayed like that for the rest of that night.

“Is being close with me a bad thing?”

“No” the answer was immediate “Not in the slightest. It’s just... I never thought I’d have someone that I cared so much about, like, ever again. And I’m scared, because I don’t wanna lose you like everyone else and-”

“Hey. You’re not gonna lose me” he took her hand in his “I promise. If it helps, I feel very close with you too”

“Yeah, but I like you!” she stressed, taking the boy aback “That’s never happened before! It scares the shit out of me, and you surely don’t like me back like that, and-”

“Moony!” Reggie cut her off with a laugh “I like you too!” the boy felt like he just got told he won the ghost-lottery, the smile on his face the biggest Luna had seen.

“Huh?”

“I like you too” he repeated “When I’m thinking about coming to visit you and hang out with you, I feel like I’m about to perform with the band again. I get this rush of happiness and that’s just by thinking of you!”

Luna looked at the guy like he was crazy. How was he so happy? She had been scared all week! When she was little, feelings came easy to her, but she’d never liked someone. Then her family died, and she never gave herself the opportunity to like someone. Now this goofy boy came, after they have both died, and he doesn’t leave her alone, and suddenly his goofiness and playful flirting had an effect on her! And on top of that, he says he likes her too! It was all strange and too good to be true. “What the hell is happening?”

“You like me” she said, not sounding convinced “This better not be one of your jokes Reg, because I swear, if it is I’ll-”

Once again, Reggie cut her off laughing, just to pull her into a kiss. He kissed her out of impulse, he couldn’t restrain himself anymore now that he knew she liked him back. Besides, she wanted to be sure she wasn’t fucking with her, right?

“I’m not joking, Moons. I really like you. A lot” he giggled, resting his hands on her face to make her look directly at him “And now that I know you like me...” he saw her bite her bottom lip to contain her smile “I can proudly say that I made Luna Joy feel emotions again”

“Hey! It’s not like I was completely emotionless”

“Sure babe” he leaned in to place a swift kiss on her nose.

“Okay, enough of that” she pulled away, but let his arms rest around her “Wait, “babe”? What’s that about?”

“Oh, right” Reggie seemed to realize something and sat up straighter “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Once again, Luna stared at the ghost in front of her dumfounded. He stared back at her with a smile, waiting for an answer.

“Are you serious?” she asked. Reggie only nodded “Just like that?”

“You want a big ask? I can do it, give me a second”

“Woah, woah no! No big asks” she gripped his leather jacket just as he went to stand up “It just caught me off guard”

“Why? We like each other, and I want you to be my girlfriend so no other cute ghost can take charm you with incredible harmonica skills and funnier stories”

“This right here is why I like you. I don’t need a harmonica player; I like how you play your banjo. I’ll be your girlfriend, Reg”

[...]

Now that we know how Reggie and Moony got together let’s rewind a little. I said, she wasn’t safe from three particularly annoying ghosts. She’s got one, she’s dating him. She met —or re-met— the other two a month later.

“C’mon, please” Reggie dragged out the word like a little kid begging their mom for candy. To be fair, he was begging, but instead of his mother, his girlfriend “They’ll love you! Alex uses sarcasm almost as much as you do. Julie wants to try and see you, she’s been asking me about you every time I get back home! She’s getting really tiring”

“Oh, so kinda like you then” Luna wasn’t having it.

She sat there listening to her boyfriend whine about how much he wanted her to meet his friends, his family. He wanted to be able to spend time with her without having to escape them all the time. Also, Luke and Alex did not believe him when he said he had found a girl.

The bassist huffed and plopped himself next to Luna, crossing his arms. He eyed the black nail polish she was applying to her nails, and then looked at his own nails, already painted black. Reggie smiled, getting off track for a second at the memory of how delicate she had been minutes ago when she was painting his nails. It was the most patient he had ever seen her. “Wait, no- friends” he shook his head and looked at the girl again.

“Why don’t you wanna meet my friends?” he pouted.

“Baby, I don’t think your buddy Luke was a fan of me last and only time I met him. Granted, I wasn’t very nice to him, but...” Reggie blushed at the pet name.

Luna wasn’t great with words, so pet names were unusual in her, causing the boy to blush each time she used one. Touching didn’t come out of her either, it was usually him who had to start a kiss or a hug, but she didn’t neglect them. He had determined that her love language was actions.

She had been alone for a long time, and having someone that cares about you was strange, but she tried her best to show Reggie that she too cared about him. Moony would take him to a place where country music was played, or nudge him and propose a crazy idea that she knew he’d love, or paint his nails carefully like before. Or Reggie’s personal favorite: how Luna would “ask” for cuddles. She wouldn’t initiate them, she felt awkward verbally asking for them or suddenly throwing herself on him as he did when he wanted some, but instead she’d shift closer to him and subtly lean a little into his body. After a few times when Reg had asked for cuddles and she’d done that same thing, he had started to understand the subtle actions that she did to ask for touch without feeling awkward or uncomfortable. He had to say, he found it absolutely adorable how shy she could be. He’d never imagined the bold Joy girl to be able to act that way.

“Okay, but now you’re nicer!” he tried to convince her again “Come on, just for half an hour! You meet them, stay a little, and if you decide you don’t like them, or don’t feel right we’ll leave and I won’t talk about this ever again” when she still didn’t look at him, he carefully grabbed her arm —because he knew she’d kill him again if he messed up her nails— and turned her around “Please, please, please, please, please, pl-”

“Okay!” she snapped “I’ll go meet your band, just shut the fuck up!”

“Yes!” he grabbed her face and kissed her lips “You’re the best, Moons”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me finish my hand and we can go” she said, retrieving her arm so she could paint her last two nails.

Luna Joy was used to put this brave, unbreakable, unfazed facade on that now only came down when she was with Reginald Peters. Like right now, she was standing in front of a garage, gripping his hand tight and internally shitting her pants.

“You know what? I’m not feeling well, maybe I should come by another time-”

“Babe. You’re gonna be fine, just relax” he pressed a kiss to her temple, and then walked in “Everybody, this is Luna. I told you guys she existed” he stuck his tongue at his two brothers, grinning wide at Julie’s excited face.

“Hey” Luna waved.

“You. You’re that ghost that didn’t like our music and then was rude!” Luke pointed at her “Why didn’t you like our music?”

“Can you please not attack her, Luke?” Alex rolled his eyes “I’m sorry, he’s stupid. I’m not, I’m Alex”

“Yeah, our music isn’t for everyone. Hi, my name’s Julie and I am very excited to see and meet you. Reggie has told me a lot about you” the curly haired girl in front of her smiled, showing off her tooth gap. Luna thought she was adorable.

“Has he now? I’ve heard a lot about you guys too-”

“Okay! So I’ve talked about everyone, let’s move on passed that, yeah?”

“We’ll save you the embarrassment, don’t worry. Oh, and Luke. I did like your music”

After that afternoon, Luna wasn’t able to get rid of the boys. She didn’t mind, she found that being a solitary ghost was so much less fun than being part of a group again.

“So what did you think?” Reggie asked her on the observatory that night, pulling her body closer than what she had leaned on.

“They’re nice” she hummed “Hey, can I tell you something? I’m scared again”

“Why?”

“I think I love you”

“Well, if it helps, I think I love you too”

[piraticalarchive]

okay so for everyone who hates big corporations and management who takes advantage of their employees.. this one’s for you. it’s long but .... i find it completely hilarious.

so a brief recap: amy got fired back in march from a huge international retailer, yes? when things first started like they were going south, i worked on really re establishing a relationship with my brother who is like one level below C-suite (cfo, ceo, etc etc) of that same company because i had an idea in mind. March rolls around, amy gets fired .. and I’m like .. okay. time to put this in motion. but stress and depression obviously took the motivation away from me, but i continued to keep that line of communication up with my brother. we started talking weekly, sometimes twice a week via an actual call. well, i’m finally feeling better .. so this week i finally put my plan in motion. here’s how it went

stage 1: i sent a text to my brother asking if i applied to the store in my area if i could use him as a reference. he said, of course but every store is hiring so i’d look at any store besides that one. (which is already fucking hilarious but i digress) ... so i call the store and one of the managers who sat in on amy’s firing answers when i ask to speak to someone involved in hiring (oh lucky day). I start off with “hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but I’ve been looking for a job thats a bit of a change of scenery and my brother is the *insert position name* and works in *insert headquarters location* and he recommended i give the company a try despite that I had a less than stellar experience last time”. And this manager FALLS OVER telling me they are hiring for so many positions blah blah blah and then at the end when i’m like “thanks for the information! I’m definitely going to apply!” she’s like “of course! I’ll give our hiring manager your information so she can pull it immediately. Whats your name?” and i give my name and suddenly its just dead fucking silent... because they know who I am and they know that I’m in a relationship with amy and that i know what they did. But she recovers and is like ‘can’t wait to see your application!’ .. so.. okay. stage 1 was a success. but then, enter...

unexpected event: the store manager himself calls me. Starts off with some small talk, finally gets around to saying ‘so I hear you’d like to come back and work for us? I was looking at your previous application and I didn’t see any mention of the relation you talked about when you called”. And I’m like “oh, yeah... I don’t like using stuff like that because I’d prefer to get in on my own merit  and skills and not by a family member’s position. Plus its like that show undercover boss, you know? I get to see what the place is like before they know. BUT given with what happened to amy, I was unsure if I’d even be considered without a reference like that” and he laughs nervously and is like “i totally get it. So did anyone know that you had a brother in that position?” and I’m like “oh i mentioned it once in passing to [amy’s manger] but I just said my brother was in corporate and there are a lot of levels so i think he just left it at that” and the store manager is like ‘haha yeah different levels but thats like ... its own level...” and we talk a little bit and he’s like “what made you want to come back?” and I’m like “like i mentioned before, the amy thing really threw me off. I was angry and the good thing about siblings is you don’t have to sugarcoat stuff. So I went to my brother and was like this is how you treat people?? are you kidding?? what about job security?? and i sent him the picture amy had snapped of her discharge papers where it listed the reason and he told me that, and everything else I yelled at him about,  wasn’t the company’s way and that the store had seriously violated something. So for one, I now know that isn’t actually something that should have happened and  two, i inadvertently brought this store to corporate’s attention and there are a lot of good people who work here, and they don’t deserve the consequences of that, so I want to help make it right” and he’s fucking sweating yall, I can hear it over the phone. and he’s like “fill out your application and put whatever you want down and we’ll call you and talk about positions and we can find a way to give you what you want” and I’m like “oh, don’t tell me that nick because your chair is looking awfully good right now” and he did a nervous laugh. SO, unexpected event made my plan even better. Then we get to:

Stage 2: I apply. I check literally every management position, including the one they fired amy from and also some hourly positions and put down ridiculous hours. I pass the manager test with flying colors and when it asks why i said i want to be a team trainer i wrote down ‘thanks to knowing the home office, i know how things should work and I want to help this store raise its position in the district and I know what policies aren’t being followed to help make that raise smoother.” I submitted the application, called the first manager I had spoken to and told her I had done so and she was like “I’m sure we’ll give you a call tomorrow!” ‘Tomorrow’ came and by 7 that night, they hadn’t contacted me. So I went to the ‘we’re hiring’ image they had posted on their facebook page like an hour previously and tagged my brother and was like ‘dude this is one of the positions at my store i was telling you about. think i could pull it off?” AND BAM ! they sent me a request for a phone interview at 8am the next morning. I scheduled my interview for later that afternoon at 2:45 and we enter Stage 3.

Stage 3: Amy and I go to the store to pick up a few things. It’s suddenly fucking spotless. There are no gaps in the shelves, the floor has been cleaned since the last time we were there (monday night and i called them tuesday and it is now white and shiny as hell) and they have the lights turned up all the way so you can actually see. EVERY FUCKING AISLE is perfect. Cat food? perfect. Funko pops? stacked and lined up perfectly. Video games? Filled. Clearance aisle? Perfect order. Like its super obvious they did a mad dash and tried to get the store in shape. So amy and I walk down every single aisle and point things out and kind of put our heads together and talk and I take out my phone and act like i’m texting etc .. basically we’re just fucking with people’s heads because the managers are nearby and they can see what we’re doing. 

Stage 4: So later we’re home and 2:45 comes and goes with NO word. No phone call, no email, no hey can we reschedule. they FORGOT about the interview. I’m dying because they’re making it even better and even easier to fuck with them. So I text my brother (who KNOWS my mental health has been in the trash) and I’m like “I filled out an application just to see and they set up an interview and blew me off. You were right .. not a great help when it comes to the blues” and he was like “yep...i’d look at literally any other store” and talked to me a bit more about it. He was irritated that they’d do that and kept saying they were on thin ice.  Finally at 5 they text me and they’re like “hey, this is the [insert store] and we’re sorry we missed your interview. I wanna apologize. Can we reschedule?” And I wait like an hour and a half (i was napping, i’ll admit it) but I respond with “I apologize for the late response, I had a prior commitment I had to take care of. Unfortunately, I reached out to someone [they know who it is. they know]  in the off chance I had misunderstood the process since I hadn’t heard from you guys and I was encouraged to pursue opportunities at other branches in the area. Thank you for the original consideration and I hope you have a great day!” and they waited until 11am the next day to reply back which I’m assuming is because they were waiting for the higher up management to return to the store.

Come to find out the managers are still basically pissing themselves and freaking out because not only did they a) fire someone against company policy and now know the people at the top know and b) drop the ball and forget to interview a family member of said people at the top ... I got to add salt in the wound one more time by mentioning that my brother dropped in a lot (he doesn’t) and that I’d love to show off the store since it’s such a huge part of the community and it was looking better than I’d ever seen it look. And that it would be nice because he’d get the real experience since it wasn’t a formal, announced visit .... but, of course, that he’s salary .. so the policy is that he’s always ‘at work’ and obligated to take note of things.

so basically, i feel justified. Six and a half months of careful planning and maneuvering was totally justified. 10/10, I’d do it again. Let this be a lesson that patience in planning vengeance is completely worth having and I hope I helped make the store better for employees who aren’t management by putting the fear of god into them with the idea that my brother or anyone else from his office can just drop the fuck in whenever they want with a totally casual visit that could still fuck the management over completely. This is a good week, mates .. a very good week. Am I petty? yes. Do i hate their guts and feel like it was an entertainment that was totally worth it given what they did to the love of my life? also yes.

[weepingaesthetic]

Orenda

Pairing: Dabi x reader

AU: Adult Verse

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance

Rating: NSFW

Warning: Drug use, swearing

Notes: Orenda is a mature fanfic that takes place in the characters adult years. Characters have been aged up (20+). There will be cursing, drug-use, extreme violence, explicit content, mentions of death and abuse.  I don’t do clean versions but I will put a line where you can skip explicit scenes if it makes you uncomfortable. :) All content will be on my Masterlist. Enjoy~

Words: 2900+

Chapter 02

Masterlist

Orenda:

An internal summoning of personal strength to change fate. The courage to love someone against the obstacles life has set before you.

You’re a hacker helping a villain. He gets the information from you and stays when it’s convenient. There’s no room for feelings, right?

Strikhedonia

Strikhedonia: The joy of being able to say “the hell with it”

The trip to the store made you anxious and it wasn’t because of the storm brewing overhead.

“Remind me again why you decided it was a good idea to go to the store with me.?” 

The man beside you smirked. “Have to make sure our little hacker doesn’t get jumped in the street, don’t I.?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You know as well as I do, I could have anyone on their knees before they could blink.”

His smirk turned into a full-blown grin, almost looking predatory. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing, doll. Kinky. I like it.” 

You slapped his shoulder, part of you being cautious of the staples, another part of you hoping you hit them anyway. This man-

“Honest answer, sweetheart, Shigaraki wants tabs on you. Called last night. The heroes were after you specifically. Who did you give blue balls to.?”

This time you shoved him. Well tried. What is he.? Made of fucking brick.? And sleeping with them.? What does he take you for.?

“As if. Why would they come after me.? I work under the radar. As far as they know I’m just a stubborn hacker with no IP address. As far as personally, just some hacker who has no interest in helping them. They don’t even know my real name.” You could feel yourself beginning to shake, despite the confidence in your voice. Missed a protection wall maybe.? Impossible. Everything was checked and double checked. This wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew what to set up for.

“Seems not, princess. Someone has a vendetta and it has your name on it.”  

“Guess I’ll be making another stop then.” He quirked an eyebrow at you, signaling for an explanation. 

You shrugged. “If you think I’m recoding my own firewall sober, your dumber than I thought.” 

He glared at you at the comment. “I’m not the one who failed at their own job.” 

“Says the man who got raided out of their hideout last night.”

“Says the woman responsible for it.” 

You turned on him, causing him to almost bump into you from the sudden stop. “I had nothing to do with that. Ask your undercover boy who did, because no one should know I’m even working with the League. I said stop the accusatory bullshit. If you can’t do that then fuck off.” To say you had a short temper was an understatement of the year. It was a double-edged sword. It kept a wall around your heart, but caused hell to those who got caught in it.

“I said your still a suspect, doll face. Why do you think we're keeping tabs on you.?” His smirk was cold. Unfeeling. It made you want to punch him. 

“Fuck you guys. I stay up for days helping you and the minute something happens all fingers point to me.? Real great of you. Tell Twice he can shove his firewall job up his ass.” You shook your head in disgust, stalking off in your original direction. The fucking nerve of them. How dare they.? After all you put on the line for them? This is how they repay you.? 

You heard Dabi walking behind you, neither of you making any moves to start a conversation for a moment.

“Crusty-face said you passed the test.” 

“What.?” Your voice was low, threatening and louder than intended. A few people glanced at the two of you before scurrying off. If you were still rational maybe you would’ve felt bad for drawing attention. Right now.? Hell no.

He pulled out an ear piece and waved it at you before crushing it. “Wanted proof on me saying you were innocent.” 

Your glare was ice cold. “Do that shit again and you can find a different hacker to do your dirty work.”

“Come on, don’t be like that Ace.” 

“Fuck you. It’s Asayama to you.” You walked into the store, leaving him in the street. Stupid trust issues. Stupid feelings. Fuck Dabi, the League, and everything to do with it. At least you had still given him the privilege of using your first name. 

The store was vacant for the most part. A few stragglers here and there. Nothing too concerning, especially with how late it was. You walked up to the counter, greeting the elderly woman behind it.

“What can I do you for.?” Her voice was soft and soothing. Part of you wondered if she carried the same candy your grandmother would always carry. She had the same air around her. Comfort. Home.

“Marlboro red black shorts please.” 

She asked for ID and nodded, going to search for your request. 

“I saw you fighting with the guy standing outside. Need me to call someone.?” At least she was caring, you’d give her that. 

“No, just an argument. His trust issues are getting annoying.” You didn’t know why you didn’t just shut her down, but the thought of being rude to this woman made you uncomfortable. It’d be like yelling at your own grandma. The thought made you shudder.

She nodded, knowingly. “$12.14 dear. May I give my advice.?”

You nodded back cautiously as you handed over the money. 

“Trust issues are best talked about openly. Explain your side and allow him to explain his. It may be annoying, but there’s a reason he's guarding his heart so much. Try to get him to open up to you.” 

You wondered if this woman was some kind of psychic. You knew some of Dabi’s past to know it was rough, but not enough to know why he always pointed fingers at you. This woman made more of a point than you’d like to admit. 

You thanked her and walked back outside. It was starting to sprinkle and Dabi was nowhere to be found. You lit a cigarette and started your walk home, mind running with indecision as you pondered the idea given to you. It was going to be a long day.

Two days passed before you saw Dabi again. This time had you sprinting over to him in mild panic. Bruises littered his face and arms, a slash wound on his shoulder trailing blood down his arm and onto your clean floor. He was leaning against the door frame heavily, smirking at you like he wasn’t about to pass out onto your linoleum.

“Got a band aid you can spare.?” 

You scoffed at him and pulled him into your kitchen as quickly as he could move, pulling out the disinfectant. 

“Shirt off.” Your voice was clipped with worry and anger. One part of you still wanted to kick him out and give him the cold shoulder, the other part worried what would happen if you didn’t bandage him up first. 

“If you wanted me naked that bad princess, all you had to do was ask.” He was leaned back in the chair comfortably, like he owned the place. He almost looked like he did. Almost. 

You glared at him unamused until he complied. Your breath caught in your throat as more bruises and scratches popped up where the clothing used to cover. 

You steadied your breath and walked in front of him. “This will hurt.”

You poured the disinfectant over the worst wound on his shoulder, checking to see if it needed stitches. Luckily it didn’t, but you knew you’d have to bandage it. You grabbed the roll, working swiftly and carefully as you wrapped. He didn’t make any indication of pain other than the bouncing of his leg. 

You grabbed the ointment for the other cuts once you finished before speaking. “Want to tell me what happened.?”

He didn’t look at you, keeping his eyes on the wall as you worked. “No.”You gritted your teeth, controlling your temper for once. Fine then. 

You stood up once you were sure everything was cleaned and bandaged properly before turning away from him. You used putting the bandages away as an excuse not to look at him. You were still angry, right.? 

“Your good now, you can leave.” 

You heard the chair scrape against the floor and felt your heart drop. Why was this bothering you so much.? You knew he didn’t care about you. You knew this was a business arrangement. You were barely friends. So why were you so on edge.? Why did it hurt so much.?

“Twice wants to know how the Firewall breach is going.” Normal. Small talk. Business. You hated it. 

“I told you, he can shove it up his ass.”

You turned around to walk past him, but he caught your arm, stopping you from going any further. You made no move to turn around and look at him. 

“Are you really still mad about the test.?” 

You turned your head toward him to catch him in your peripherals, your face void of any emotion. “Of course not. Why would I be.? Why would I be upset that the only real friend I fucking have accused me of betraying him.? Not once, but twice.? Why would I be upset that the people I work day and night for to secure their safety so much I barely sleep can’t believe I’m actually on their side.? Why in the hell would I be upset over that Dabi.?” You could feel your nails extending into claws and you ripped your arm away from him. Maybe you didn’t have as good as a handle on your emotions as you thought. 

“You know as well as I do, Shigaraki doesn’t take chances. I told you I believed you. I was just soothing the boss's insecurities.” He almost looked sad for a second, before his face was back to its usual mask. It was so quick you second guessed if it had been there at all.

You knew you were being irrational. It was stupid. You knew they were just looking after themselves. So why did you feel so hurt and betrayed.? Why couldn’t you filter out your emotions.? You didn’t say anything of the thoughts running through your head, knowing if you did it would cause more damage than good.

“I need to get back to work.” You tried to change the subject, handing Dabi a flash drive out of your pocket. “This is what Twice asked for. All the information he needed is there.” 

He chuckled at you and took it. “What happened to he could shove this job up his ass.?” 

You flushed. “Just give it to him before I change my mind.” 

“Will do.” He pocketed the drive, the normal comfortable silence between you two feeling awkward. 

You cursed yourself. You created this. Should you fix it.? Should you take advice from a stranger who couldn’t begin to understand this weird relationship.? It was now or never. Emotions be damned.

“Listen I-" you scratched your arm to try and distract yourself from how awkward this whole thing was, “I know you don’t trust anyone. I know you're just looking out for yourself. The rest of League too.” 

You saw his face soften from its usual hardened, playful expression. You felt your confidence push up a bit. “Just lay off the accusatories, okay.? Not a fan of having all my hard work shoved back in my face. If I really wanted to work against you that much, I would’ve already. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to screw you over. Not to mention you sleep like the dead.” You teased him, not that you could help it. 

This soft, mushy shit was way out of your comfort zone. Emotions weren’t something either of you talked about. Hell, it took him months to even start venting to you about work. 

His lips turned up into the smallest of smiles, the tension relaxing around you both. “You're one to talk. You snore loud enough to challenge freight trains.”

You swatted at him, watching him dance away from the attack, your own smile shoving it’s way to your face. “I do not.”

“Video evidence on my phone says otherwise.” His usual smirk settled back onto his face as you gaped at him.

“You fucking recorded me.?” You were ready to slice into him, injured or not.

“When you say my name all cute like in your sleep, how could I not.?”

You scoffed at him. “Bullshit. I have better things to dream about.” 

He chuckled, the sound going straight for your heart. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ace.” 

“Kiss my ass.”

“Well, if you're offering.” He winked at you, hands sliding out of his pockets as if he was actually considering your remark. 

“As if. You staying or disappearing again.?” Back to casual. Easy. Definitely safer for your heart.

“Miss me, doll.?” He grabbed the pack you had resting on the counter, grabbing for one of the contents. 

You rolled your eyes, hand out for one as well. “You wish. Answer the question.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows at you, tossing you the pack instead before lighting the cigarette. “Sharing a bed with you.? How could I turn that down.?”

“Ha. You get the couch, pervert.” You lit your own, rolling your eyes. The smoke in your lungs felt like heaven against your nerves. The thought of the man in front of you in your bed had your thoughts straying to a place they didn’t belong. 

His lips quipped up into a lazy grin. “We'll see, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, pointing the fingers holding the cigarette between the both of you. “We'll see nothing. You need to sleep and recover, I have work to do.”

“Working all night again.? Your fault if you work yourself into an early grave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do me a favour and dress all ominous for my funeral. Make me look important.”

He chuckled at your remark. “Bold of you to assume I'd go.” 

“Bold of you to think you wouldn’t be devastated without me. At least the pull-out couch. Poor thing has given you a place to sleep for almost a year.” Part of you was teasing, the other was stuck on what he would actually do if you actually did croak. 

“It is a nice couch.” You watched the smoke roll slowly from his lips, wondering if it would taste different coming from him than your own stick. Your eyes widened at the thought. Where did that thought come from.?

He smiled lazily at you, like he knew your thoughts. “You know, legend has it that a kiss from a Siren can give you magical abilities. Breathing underwater,” He stepped closer to you, “Healing people,” another step, “Wonder if it’s the same with you.?” 

You scoffed at him, trying to control your racing heart rate ay how close he was now. You could feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. What was happening.? 

You swallowed hard, trying to remember how to breathe again. “I highly doubt I’m magical. Just cursed.”

“Cursed.?” His voice was lower, raspy, and anything but afraid. Shouldn’t he be terrified?

“You ever been overly high on adrenaline?” You tried to word this carefully.

He quirked an eyebrow at you amusingly. “I’m a pyromaniac, princess.”

“Imagine that feeling switched with lust. That’s what would happen if we ever swapped spit till the addictive in my saliva left your bloodstream. I could drive a person insane on their own sexual desires.” You wanted him to understand what would happen if he initiated what he was suggesting. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“You have your own built in aphrodisiac. Must be fun at parties.”

“Sure, if you like nursing the worst blue balls of your life just from kissing me.”

He grinned and you swore he was lying about not being a masochist. “Damn princess, that’s harsh. Their mistake though. They didn’t have the chance to fuck you.”

You tried to hide the dark blush slowly creeping up your face. “And you think you do?”

He cupped the side of your face, thumb slowly caressing your  cheek bone. :Oh, I think my chances are pretty high.”

You sighed, wanting so bad to give in when his breath hit your lips. He was so close. If you raised your head up slightly, your lips would meet his. When did we go from fighting and teasing to this?

You put a hand against his chest, forcefully creating a space you didn’t want, but knew you needed. “Dabi… I don’t do one-night stands. I’d rather keep you as a friend than a fuck buddy. It’s not just an aphrodisiac, it forces oxytocin in your blood stream so your overwhelmed in euphoria for me. I’m not going to force you inot something you don’t actually feel.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against your own. If you weren’t so nervous and dazed out of your mind, you might’ve noticed how bad he was shaking too.

“Who said I didn’t?” His voice was low, barely a whisper. If you hadn’t been so close you doubt you would’ve heard it.

“You said yourself this was just a business arrangement. You don’t care about anyone but you.” Your thoughts were spiraling. He was joking, right? There was no way-

“Think we both know if this was only business I wouldn’t give a damn about whether you ate or slept.” His blue eyes bore into your own, demanding your attention. He wasn’t lying. He never did. Could you actually bring yourself to believe it though?

“You don’t really mean that. You’re just caught up in the moment.” He had to be.

He sighed and pulled away from you, his hands retreating back into his pockets. His usual lazy grin making it’s way back to his face.

“Guess I’ll have to prove it to you then, doll.” He walked away from you, flopping himself on the couch. “You have any tea left?”

“Uh, yeah.” You walked to the kitchen to start the kettle, one thought repeatedly throwing itself around your mind.

Fuck. No. Why him? When did you start loving him too?

You glanced a peak back over to him. He was sprawled out, hair messily covering his eyes. He looked more comfortable than you had ever seen him. You felt your heart swell in pride at the thought.

Maybe… Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[harryskalechips]

A little blue

A/n I’m sorry this was supposed to be up at 12. Last night I couldn’t’ stop playing sims and I had no motivation to finish this. LOL it’s kinda messy sorry

It’s sad that he notices her throughout the night but the only words of affection that can come out of his mouth are hurtful.

Word count: 2765

It all began when Y/N first moved to Los Angeles, California for an opportunity to be an intern at a fabulous publishing office. Her cousin who lives in England had an ex-roommate Sarah, who just happened to be living in LA for quite some time now. Being the nicest out of all Y/N’s cousins, she gave their phone numbers to one another so they can meet up and Y/N can have a friendly face in the city. After that, Y/N got to know Mitch, Adam, Ny, Charlotte, and Jeff along with his girlfriend Glenne.

At first, she didn’t know they were in a band playing for THE Harry Styles. She just happened to know they were co-workers and they all had to move to adapt to their work schedule. Sarah would bring up a man named Harry and she always suggested that they should meet each other. Sadly, it took longer than usual since this man was always busy.

When Harry first heard about the new girl, Y/N, he was intrigued as to who this girl can be. One night while his band was over rehearsing in his home studio, Charlotte brought up the idea of inviting Y/N, which all Harry can say was yes due to him wanting nothing more than to make people happy. It was a shock really how when his eyes first met the new girl’s, he felt something in his stomach as if for some unknown reason he just had butterflies.

“Harry, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry Styles!” Sarah ecstatically says as she watches Y/N’s eyes light up. She didn’t know if she was going to tell her friends this but she was a big fan of Harry when he was still in One Direction and although she listens to his new solo music, she never realized that her friends were the music prodigies of his band!

“H-hi… Harry.” Y/N sweetly smiles as she takes a step forward to him. He was ultimately very pretty and if her heart had never beaten so fast for a boy before, today was the day.

“Hey.” He gives a small smile as he looks for Mitch’s eye contact instead. Mitch was confused about why Harry was acting all distant, usually, he’s very outgoing.

As that day progressed and many more outings with the group, Y/N grew the idea of feeling unwanted by Harry. Needless to say, when he would join her, Sarah and Mitch on a night out for fun. He would constantly ignore her. He never really looked her way and when she would ask him questions about himself, he was always giving short answers. For fuck’s sake, he gives out more information in a regular interview.

She didn’t want to believe he didn’t like her but actions speak louder than words and Y/N was starting to feel that he resented her.

~

“Happy Birthday Mitch!” Y/N leaps into Mitch’s arms after he opened his front door for her. Today was Mitch’s birthday and the whole gang decided to come over to his house to hang out and play games before heading out to the club. Y/N was very excited because it’s her first party after living in LA for months.

“Y/N, I’m glad you’re here!” Mitch hugs her back just as tightly. As they pulled away, Mitch took his present so he could open them later. “Get some food and grab a beer, everyone is in the living room.”  Y/N smiled happily as she took her shoes off and headed deeply more into the familiar house.

“Y/N, why were you the last one! I’ve been waiting for you!” Sarah stands up from the floor to hug the sweet girl. Although Y/N is younger than the rest of her friends, they never failed to make her feel just as accepted.

“I’m sorry, I had to reorganize my boss’ files last minute.” She pouts. Sarah mindlessly reaches out to give her a bottle of beer.

“It’s alright, I’ll be back. I’m just going to help Mitch in the kitchen.” Sarah walks out of the room but the silence is quickly filled as all her other friends are enthused by her presence. Y/N walks around, giving her friends hugs but at last, Harry is sitting alone on one of the couches. He didn’t really say hi to her when she first arrived and as she was walking around greeting everyone, he made sure to start a conversation with Adam.

“Hey, Harry.” Y/N greets the man in front of her politely. She was trying hard not to let him see her heart eyes for him. It was not a lie that Y/N developed a crush for him despite his cold attitude towards her. If anything, it made her want to know more about him.

“Hey.” Harry looks up and gives a small smile. He doesn’t try to reach out and hug her.

“Y/N, Come here and take a selfie with us!” Charlotte pats the seat beside her as she and Ny try to find the perfect angle on her phone.

~

As the night went by, the group of friends played various board games. The sun had just set and it was now their cue to head to the club. “Okay, I really don’t want to say this but we need two drivers to stay sober tonight.” Sarah bites her lip as everyone exits the house.

“I’ll stay sober tonight,” Adam speaks up. It wasn’t a surprise since he had two kids at home and he didn’t want to wake up in the morning making breakfast with a hangover. Lastly,  the boy beside Mitch spoke up.

“Yeah, I don’t mind driving tonight.”

“Harry,” Ny interrupted, “Out of all of us, you should be the one drinking. You’ve had so many meetings this week.”

“No, it’s fine.” he laughs and flashes a smile. “If anything, I’ll call my driver but I don’t think I’ll be drinking too much.”

“Perfect! Let’s go!” Sarah cheered as she grabbed my hand to go in the car with her. In Adam’s car, Charlotte, Ny, Jeff and Glenne hopped in. Leaving Harry to take Mitch, Sarah, and Y/N.

As the two boys rode in the front, Sarah and Y/N sat in the back. With a nudge in the hip, Y/N looks at Sarah surprisingly. “What?”

“Are you okay?” Sarah whispers, hoping the boys in the front won’t notice as they’re in their own conversation. “You’ve been off throughout the whole night.” Y/N didn’t want to tell Sarah how she felt but the more she thought about it, she believed it wouldn’t hurt anybody.

“Harry doesn’t like me.” She bites her lip as she stares out the window. She didn’t want Harry or anybody to see her cry over a stupid thing. As she looks up, she catches Harry already looking at her through the rear window. Coughing loudly, Harry looks away and replies to Mitch.

“That’s not true! He’s not the kind of guy who would hate anybody for no reason.” Sarah tries to convince Y/N.

“It’s okay don’t-”

“Harry, can I ask you a favour?” Sarah interrupts Y/N as she calls for the boy behind the wheel.

“Yeah.” Harry replies as he parks in the lot.

“Can you watch over Y/N tonight? It’s her first time in an exclusive night club. She’s kind of scared. Plus, I want to be with Mitch tonight.”

“Um no. I can’t do that.” Harry replies shortly as Mitch and Sarah’s eyes widen. “I want to have fun tonight. I don’t want to babysit. She’s a grown girl. Make her sit with Adam the whole night. I don’t really care.”

“Ha-” Mitch tries to speak up.

“Let’s go.” Harry interrupts as he steps out of the car.

If Y/N wasn’t thinking of crying tonight, she sure is when she gets home. Sarah softly mouths a sorry as the group walked in the club together.

~

TAO was the hotspot tonight and the room was on fire. The group was together earlier sipping on their drinks but as the night kept going, Jeff, Glenne, Ny and Charlotte decided to hit the dance floor leaving the rest at the table hanging out. As Y/N was coming back from the washroom to the table in the VIP area, she could hear their conversation.

-

“Harry, you know Sarah wasn’t asking you to babysit her. More of just talking to her and keeping an eye on her.” Mitch reasons as the man he was talking to kept staring at his drink.

“Well it doesn’t matter. I didn’t want to do it and I still don’t.”

“You know I was thinking, she may have a crush on you.” Adam teases as Mitch and Sarah laugh. “I mean every time I’m hanging out with you guys at lunch or something, she always asks where you are.”

“Maybe, she’s just curious!” Sarah slaps the table at the obvious thought.

“No, it’s different! Trust me. For example, remember when we went out for sushi last week, she kept looking at Harry and the guy was on the opposite end of the table. I think she has a thing for you.” Adam playfully shoves Harry.

“Who wouldn’t have a thing for him, he’s Harry Styles!” Mitch laughs louder taking a sip of his vodka. He was already slurring.

“Y/N is not my type. First off she’s like 22, She just turned legal to even be here. Secondly, she’s too...I don’t know how to say it… soft? I don’t think we’re compatible I can’t stand her when all she does is talk about stupid things. I simply just don’t like her.”

“Harry!” Sarah scolds him as she feels offended he would say those things about Y/N.

-

“Hey, are you here alone?” A man seductively says as he stands beside her, watching the same table she’s looking at. “You must be star struck seeing Harry Styles here. He comes often.” He smirks. Y/N was barely listening to the unnamed guy as she felt tears start to fall from her eyes. As she wipes them away, she looks up to see just Harry at the table. The others must’ve gone to the dance floor.  Y/N walks back to the table, ready to grab her purse and leave. Her night was spoiled from the beginning because of Harry’s coldness but this was the last straw.

“Y/N, were you crying?” Harry watches the girl in front of him search for her purse in the booth.

“Hey beautiful, I didn’t even get your number!” The unnamed boy walks up to their table.

“Did you make her cry?” Harry stands up rolling up his sleeves. He angrily looks at the man. Y/N was so confused about why he was acting this way.

“What? No man. I saw her standing there alone for a few minutes. I’ll back off.” The guy steps back, looking back at Harry in shock. “No, I’ll come with you!” Y/N speaks up wiping away her final tears. “You’re not going anywhere,” Harry replies shortly, glaring at her.

“It’s my decision, not yours.” She replies with an attitude. Harry’s eyes soften as he realizes this is the first time she acted this way in front of him despite his coldness and attitude in the past months. He wasn’t stupid, he was acting rude on purpose despite it slowly killing him.

“Sarah told me to watch over-”

“You fucking said no!” Y/N slams her purse on the table in frustration.

“Alright, I’ll be downstairs, just look for me.” The guy widens his eyes as he leaves the pair alone.

“Well, I said yes now!” Harry looks over the empty drinks on the table in frustration. “Why were you crying?” He asks rudely again, almost as if he’s annoyed that her crying messed up his whole night.

“Fuck you!” Y/N grabs her bag and leaves. She didn’t notice by the time she was out it was pitch dark and Harry had followed her. “Leave me alone Harry.”

“You think I’m going to let you go home in that tiny dress. Fuck’s sake!” Y/N turns around to scream at him. She’s had it. These past months, she may have had a crush on Harry but tonight made her realize that he’s nothing but an asshole who likes supermodels.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now! What is wrong with you! You barely spoke two words to me these past four months and now you’re concerned about what I’m wearing? Fuck you!”

“Y/N…”

“I don’t want to hear it, okay?! I heard what you told the others at the table while I went to the washroom. I just don’t fucking understand why you hate me! You neve-” She was crying uncontrollably as her body started shaking. Harry without another thought, took her in his arms for the first time.

“I’m sorry okay, I’m sorry.” He whispers as he rubs her back.

“You never gave me a chance and you knew I liked you! I put a stupid crumpled wrapper in your jacket at Ny’s BBQ last month. I was fucking drunk and I was waiting for you to at least confront me about it. You never did!”

“You’re right. I saw the paper.” He pulls away and takes her hand instead so he can walk her to his car. As he opened the door for her and she got in. He texted the group chat letting his other friends know he left to bring Y/N home. He also texted his driver to pick Sarah and Mitch up when they’re ready.

“Are you okay?” Harry whispers as he watches the girl stare at her hands.

“I get it you don’t like me. Maybe, it’s best if I find a new friend group so you won’t feel annoyed.”

“I don’t feel annoyed okay?”

“Then why are you so mean?” She looks up to see him staring at his wheel blankly.

“The first time I heard about you, I was really excited.”

“So I wasn’t up to your expec-”

“No, you were. I think you were above my expectations. When I saw you for the first time, I got butterflies. I know it’s stupid but I just wasn’t expecting you to be so pretty.”

“You don’t have to pull shit out your ass Harry.” Y/N pouts because she remembered that day clearly as possible. He gave a short hi then walked away as if he didn’t care she was part of the friend group now.

“No, it’s true.” He bites the inside of his cheek then looks at Y/N. “I thought you were really cute and I don’t know I guess I freaked.”

“Why? You’re so famous, you dated supermodels before and you can’t even hold a conversation with me.”

“I’ve only been in one serious relationship. To be honest, when she broke up with me I- I just felt like I needed a break from love. Then you came and it felt like my whole past relationship didn’t matter anymore although it still does. I’m not over it and I don’t want to develop any more feelings for you knowing that.”

“Harry…” Y/N takes hold of his hand out of his lap. “It’s not fair that you had to push me away without saying anything. I don’t even care if you liked me or not. I just wished you didn’t have to hurt me all the time.”

“I know.”

After that night, Harry expected Y/N to be more present during their group hangouts. He was no longer feeling restricted or uncomfortable with her because she knew the truth of how he felt. Although he was still nervous about seeing her again, he knew he would make it up to her so she can see who he truly is. He’s not a bad guy, he’s just been hurt way too many times.

But as time kept going and schedules got busier, Y/N stopped showing her face in the group. She had excuses lined up for each night and Harry was now the one who kept asking where she was. As his heart started to mend, her’s started to change a little blue.

Part 2!

[malachi-walker]

Catra and the Performative Nature of Villainy and Abuse Survival

(Yeah, with a title like that you can tell I earned that English lit masters. -.-)

Ok, so I have a lot of She-ra meta bouncing around my skull I need to get to one day, but let’s start with the big one post s4: the psychological and symbolic implications that are made explicit in DT’s epic call out of Catra (please note that I specified “made explicit” not revealed, because a lot of the stuff I wanna talk about was already there if you knew where to look.)

1. Catra’s villainy is inherently performative.

Yeah, pretty obvious but I’m going somewhere with this. If you pay close attention to Catra throughout the series, her words (the stuff on the surface) and her underlying actions don’t match up. Not entirely. No tsundere jokes, please, because it ultimately leads back to a very common pattern among abuse victims and some very interesting implications for Catra herself.

Basically it’s not horribly uncommon for abuse victims, especially those in domestic or child abuse situations, to end up performing on multiple levels. Level one: performing for the abuser in the hopes that this will minimize or stop the abuse. (Check.) Level two: performing for loved ones so as not to either worry them or risk them leaving if the abuse becomes obvious.

Oh, double check.

And lastly, Level Three: the act of performing as a method of keeping people on the outside away from you, either out of fear of more pain or fear of further judgment, which is a huge bulk of what we see Catra spiralling through this entire series.

Like, I myself was a child abuse victim for the first twelve years of my life (I’m fine now after about a decade of therapy) and I operated on all these different levels; alternating between placating my abuser to avoid punishment or rebelling to take back some form of control, deflecting from my other loved ones so as not to worry them, and being absolutely resistant to outside forces coming in, because at that point I had so little control over my life that I was more comfortable with embracing the hell I knew as a way to give myself some measure of control and stability than have someone save me from that situation but take that control away from me. Fucked up, but true. Which brings me into my second point:

2. Words have no inherent value for Catra except as weapons.

Which again, makes perfect sense considering her upbringing. Unlike Adora, Catra never had the luxury of buying into the Horde propaganda. She knew they hurt innocent people because she’d already been enduring torture from the time she was a small child–as other people have pointed out before. Moreover, she grew up in an environment that treated words with varying levels of consistency, where Shadow Weaver can praise Adora for doing one thing and then mercilessly put down Catra for doing the exact same thing equally.

This not only teaches someone about lying, this teaches someone that words are weapons, and Catra took that lesson and ran with it. Even when she and Adora were on good terms, she would still lightly drag her or put her down, but I don’t think it was from any inherent malice at that point. Good example: in episode one she’s perfectly content to mock Adora while she’s stuck in the pit, but immediately after she reached down and helped pull her out. “Actions speak louder than words” is an old clichè, but it’s super important to keep in mind when analyzing Catra’s character. Out of all the characters on Spop, she is the last one who can be analyzed from surface words alone, because so much of it is an act.

In fact, I can think of probably only one instance in which Catra did actually wholeheartedly believe in words…

Yeah, y'all know what I’m talking about.

And again, that makes perfect sense. Because Adora wasn’t just Catra’s best friend, she was explicitly her lifeline. Shadow Weaver’s exact words to little Catra were: “I’ve kept you around this long because Adora was fond of you. But if you ever do anything to jeopardize her future, I will dispose of you myself.” On top of that, the other cadets show clear signs of having sensed the blood in the water, so to speak: it’s an open secret to everyone but Adora that Shadow Weaver hates Catra’s guts, and therefore it stands to reason that in a cutthroat culture like the Horde’s, Catra was probably seen as easy prey until she learned to defend herself. Because it wasn’t like Shadow Weaver would do anything about it.

So Adora was the only person Catra could count on, but that also leads into the double edged aspect of words I’ve been talking about: Catra could let herself believe in their promise, but not enough to actually reveal to her what was going on. In the same way Shadow Weaver lightens up on the abuse when Adora’s around (just compare her use of lightning on Catra in Promise vs the Sword pt 2–the former is very subdued and looks almost like a simple hold, while the latter makes it very obvious this is painful torture) Catra deflects away from the subject around Adora, and the few times she does approach it “Why does she hate me so much” she tends not to get the reassurance she wants because Adora isn’t as clued in on the situation.

I mean, it’s pretty telling that Catra’s first leap off the slippery slope after being more of a nuisance than anything else up to that point came after Light Hope deliberately pushed her buttons by basically taunting her with the one thing that Catra had ever allowed herself to believe in.

I mean, her younger self looks at her as if to drive in the point of “you were a fool to believe in it!” After what we found out in S4, you cannot make me believe that wasn’t Light Hope deliberately twisting the knife to make sure they didn’t reconcile. And immediately after Catra pitches Adora off a cliff. Good times.

Ok, that was a big fucking lead in to my main point, but here we are:

3. Pretty much everything Catra says from that point onward is an act.

And it’s an obvious one, all things considered. Because that’s when Catra gets vicious. That’s when all her verbal barbs start cutting deep. That’s when combat between her and Adora goes from almost playful to outright brutal. And that’s when we start seeing Catra using her words as weapons against herself in addition to everyone else.

Because that’s the point when Catra starts feeding into her constructed persona of being this smug, confident, in-control villain who most definitely isn’t capable of being hurt like that ever again, no siree. We get to see several times across s4 in particular where her feelings clearly aren’t in line with her actions, and what does she do? She forces herself to say something cruel or hard-hearted as a way to essentially drag her actions and internal feelings back into line with that constructed person. Good example is the locker room scene with the Horde Trio: Catra very clearly wants to reach out to them and experience a little of their camaraderie, but she forces herself back into “I’m the boss” mode. And when it’s misinterpreted as her simply being a bitch, she goes into a rage because it’s one thing for her to want to reach out and deny herself that, but another for someone else to try to force their way in.

And all of this ties back into my main point, and why I think DT’s speech is particularly brilliant from a symbolic and psychological standpoint.

Actor vs Actor: Fight!

I’ve already established that Catra is somebody who is a performer and has been all her life in order to survive. That’s part of why Catra is such a tough nut to crack in terms of getting through to her: it’s hard to make accurate hits on someone who is putting on a persona. It’s damn near impossible to get a point through when you don’t have a clear idea of what you should be aiming at in the first place. So how do you beat a consummate actor?

You bring in a better performer.

Now, I do have my problems with DT’s speech: as others have pointed out, tossing Shadow Weaver and Hordak into the guilt trip is severely messed up and victim-blamey, though I do believe that has more to do with the fact that DT themself is not omniscient and therefore doesn’t have all the facts there (though given their sadistic streak, I’m also not sure they wouldn’t still cross that line even if they did know.)

But here’s what made that scene rock me to my fucking core: Catra almost pulled it off. Think about it: she has spent three seasons up until that point convincing her former friends, allies, boss and even the viewers–remember the post Portal moral panic–that she was this completely villainous monster. That she didn’t care, that she wasn’t worth saving, that everything she does is ultimately self-serving and terrible… Only for DT to see right through the disguise.

Adora couldn’t get through to Catra when she couldn’t even pinpoint the real problem. Scorpia couldn’t get through because by that point the defenses were fully up and Catra was going all in on her mask of villainy.

What finally got through? Being outclassed by a much better actor. By someone who is both a world class actor but also in touch enough with their own personality and wants that they don’t interfere with their own performance.

Because that’s the difference between DT and Catra: for Catra, acting the villain has been a matter of psychological survival up until that point. DT, meanwhile, acts for fun, work, and a certain level of sadistic pleasure. They have no moral dilemmas about what they do and thus they experience zero cognitive dissonance, whereas Catra may as well be the poster child. And it’s not too much of a stretch to think that once they figured out Catra’s deal, they probably found it quite amusing to completely demolish the act that had practically everyone else on the planet completely fooled.

That’s also part of the reason why Catra was so suicidal and lifeless after: the crutch she’d been using just to keep herself upright for four seasons just got yanked out from under her along with all chances of ever getting to double back down on that villainy again. Nowhere to go, and not even a mask to hide behind any more.

And honestly, I could keep talking on and on about just… The amazing amount of narrative complexity and precision and psychological depth that went into pulling this moment off. It’s amazing. But I’ve also spent like two and a half hours working on this post, so that’s that. If you read this far, get yourself a cookie or the snack of your choice. You earned it.

[justletmedomyou]

short ones

some rec that no one asked for

Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen

Words: 8k

Prince Harry Styles is very private. He chooses to keep himself out of the public eye but feels lonely and isolated while surrounded by people in his hectic royal life. When he finishes his dissertation, he decides to take a solo holiday to one of the royal family's properties in the Swiss Alps.

Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

Works like a charm by falsegoodnight

Words: 18k

Ever since Louis joined the team in fifth year, a few facts have become set in stone.

One: Louis is the best chaser in Hogwarts.

Two: Harry is the best beater in Hogwarts.

Three: They do not get along.

So it’s really unfair of Liam to think that forcing them to spend time together as Louis recovers from his injury will make them the best of friends. The last thing Louis would do is get along with that git.

The devil’s in the details by raspberryoats

Words: 25k

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

or the one where harry’s on his way to becoming a professor and louis is the smart, bratty student

At your fingertips by falsegoodnight

Words: 27k

He finds himself wrapped up in sheets in bed on Thursday night, staring at the familiar name on a new story that was posted the night before.

His fingers twitch, ready to hit play and surrender to his impulses, saving the regret and turmoil for later.

And still he hesitates, internally praying that he’ll somehow gain the strength to exit out within the next few moments before he inevitably loses his patience and hits the button.

Three…

Two…

One.

Play.

-

Or, Louis really should have seen it coming.

Sweet like honey by falsegoodnight

Words: 33k

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.

For a while, it’s enough.

-

Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

Haven by xxPayne

Words: 35k

“I take it you’re not a new student?” “What?” Harry mumbles, caught up in the way his eyes are quite literally sparkling in the light. “Oh—No. Not a student.” “Are you a sub?” Louis asks. Harry clenches his hands into fists, holding them behind his back as he stumbles a bit. “I don’t, uh—I mean. I’ve never really gotten a chance to be a true sub, you know? My ex-partners were always scared they’d hurt me. But, like—If I trusted someone a lot, and if we used a, a safeword. And talked about, you know, boundaries, then—Yes, yeah, I-I’m a sub.” Louis’ eyes are so wide, his cheeks puffing out in the effort to not burst into laughter. “Oh shit, oh my god,” Harry whispers. “You meant—Oh god.

Reduce Me To A Pleading Cry (Break The Skin and Tantalize) by taggiecb

Words: 37k

Or Harry is a broody submissive boss, Louis is a natural dom who works in the mail room at Styles & Styles, Niall is a matchmaking oracle, and a slender, dark haired man stands mute at the coffee stand encouraging others to spill their secrets.

The Pirate and The Piper by jacaranda_bloom

Words: 38k

Banished from Neverland by Captain Hook and the evil Siren Minerva, Louis is forced to live in the Other World. He makes a life for himself, resigned to the fact he’s never going to see his beloved home and Lost Boys again. Five years later he’s kidnapped and returned to Neverland, only to discover a far worse fate awaits him. But with an unlikely ally by his side, can he overcome those who seek his demise and restore freedom to his homeland?

Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

Before we knew by falsegoodnight

Words: 39k

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

Bruise you like a peach by falsegoodnight​

Words: 40k

There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.

The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.

His name is Louis Tomlinson.

Things have gotten closer to the sun by starsea

Words: 49k

it’s strange, making the choice to face his past—it almost feels like he’s heading for the sun straight on, like he’s screaming come on and burn me, i deserve it.

-

when a solar flare is announced to end the world in twelve days, harry reunites with the people that he used to know better than the back of his own hand.

Just a flicker in the dark by falsegoodnight

Words: 57k

Harry Styles is his case partner. High and mighty, annoyingly smug Harry Styles who’s known him for years and has fucking seen him naked for fuck’s sake.

He glances at Venus who’s blinking up at him with curious eyes, no doubt sensing the agitation sparking in his magic.

“This is not happening,” Louis says loudly. “This is not fucking happening. I am going to kill Liam, oh my god.” He doesn’t even know if Liam is responsible for this but it feels like something he’d do to drive Louis absolutely insane - exes don’t just show up to your assigned haunted house out of nowhere. “Fucking fuck!”

He nearly jumps when Harry knocks again, his muffled voice carrying through the wood. “I can hear you, you know,” he drawls, sounding frustratingly amused.

Louis exhales, resisting the urge to scream.

-

Or, Louis is a struggling witch desperate to prove himself after yet another magic disaster and finds a calling in the haunted house of client Niall Horan. Things get more complicated when he’s assigned a case partner: acclaimed medium and ex-boyfriend, Harry Styles.

Like cabbages and kings by you_explode

Words: 60k

When Louis was a kid, he had a series of very vivid dreams about a place called Wonderland. There were rabbits wearing waistcoats and talking cats and ridiculous tea parties, and amidst all the absurdity, there was a boy. A boy with dimples, big green eyes and the sweetest soul Louis has ever known. Louis has always kept a place in his heart for that boy and for his funny dreamworld, and when he’s twenty-five and his life falls apart, it turns out Wonderland might not be so imaginary after all.

[medeafive]

I can tell from your wonderful fics that you have many AU ideas for Natasha and Bucky. Any ones that you've thought of, or would like to see? Do you prefer to write mainly MCU, or would you be interested in writing more 616 based ones, say in their happier days as a couple? I hope this isn't too forward, but I wanted to ask it, and let you know your writing is always welcome and appreciated.

Hey anon, that’s such a nice ask! Yeah, I have a lot of AU ideas, (un)fortunately :D I can’t talk about it abstractly so I’ll give you the concrete ones I’m thinking about/working on:

My vampire AU, Blood and Stone (obviously)

An AU where Nat is a cop working on organized crime and Bucky is a veteran and they’re both navigating their sad traumatized lives while annoying the fuck out of each other. This actually came from a prompt about them fighting about the last piece of gourmet chocolate (that I could swear I posted on here but I can’t find it right now edit: found it) and I got so hooked on their dynamic in this specific AU I wrote over 50 chapters of it (still not finished). Probably the most intense and hottest dynamic I’ve ever written for them and the Natasha&Sharon relationship is honestly wonderful but the plot needs... work.

College AU! Nat is a grad student struggling with her thesis (projecting much?), strung incredibly tight, academic, ambitious, and Bucky is on the football team, confident, a total flirt, much more demonstratively relaxed. They once again annoy the fuck out of each other (Bucky goes to the Russian literature class Nat is teaching just to have a transparent excuse to see her and Nat gives him awful grades) though they get closer over the semester buuuut then the term is over and Nat has to go back to Russia for family/professional reasons and they just have a few days of being really together before losing touch (because I’m cruel and I like sad endings). Really can’t remember whether I posted the first part or not, can’t find it right now.

Also writing a soulmate AU for Marvel Trumps Hate where I use all the tropes.

There’s one fic lying around where Sam is a Christian king in Central Europe in the 9th century CE and Bucky is his brother who is arranged to marry the only daughter of the leader of a pagan tribe they’re (at least nominally) christianizing. Except the daughter is Natasha and she has no intention of going along with that, so she first takes Bucky hostage (during their wedding night) and threatens to kill him so she can escape, then comes back and nominally goes along with the arranged marriage so her tribe is left alone. Of course, that’s only lip-service and she constantly blackmails Bucky into enabling her pagan rituals and Bucky just... doesn’t really resist. I don’t really know where this goes but I was really obsessed with it for a while.

I was gonna write a lockdown AU because I read an article where the government of the Netherlands advised singles to find one lockdown buddy to have sex with in order to limit contacts, and that felt very courtship-like to me because you have to determine the one person you want to spend the next months (or year) with but you don’t really get to get to know them personally and once you’ve picked one, you can’t redecide. This also didn’t really go anywhere story-wise.

Somebody asked me for a Russian mafia AU a while back and my head produced this: Bucky ended up as the hitman/enforcer for some Russian mob group because he needed money to pay for Steve’s treatments which didn’t even really work, and now Steve is dead (or being kept hostage by the Russian mob or something, not sure on that yet) and Bucky doesn’t care about anything anymore, so much so that he develops a reputation as a completely cold and scary guy who’ll just do as he’s told and is famously not interested in anything (drugs, women, money). Natasha is the mob boss’s trophy girlfriend, famous ballerina, underwear model, international socialite and partygirl, the whole shebang. Then there’s a gang war and Natasha has to be protected and brought to safety (roadtrip!) and the mob boss decides Bucky is the only one to be trusted to do it (read: won’t sleep with her). Of course, it doesn’t go that way. I havent written a word of this but it already has a noir-style playlist.

I think that’s it? I hate that everything where Natasha is ALIVE is technically an AU these days so I didn’t include all the more canon-divergent stuff (plenty of those lying around).

Writing this made me realize how many of these are about them annoying each other :D It’s just that that helps me make the main plot them getting together, if there was no conflict between them, it’d either be a one-shot or I’d have to think of an actual plot and we can’t have that xD

I know I pretend on here to have read comics but I actually haven’t, all I know is from meta and second-hand accounts. Which is not a problem if I write AUs because then I can just take pieces from Natasha’s 616 background (for Blood and Stone, fighting the Nazis, Ivan, Alexei) and twist them, or if I write oneshots where I don’t need to know storyline details. So it’s not that I purposefully write MCU based AUs, that’s just what I know more about, and I do take 616 elements as well.

Re: AUs about their happier days as a couple, it’s those two things: if it’s happy couple stuff, I’ll need to think of other stuff going on (and I’m not that good at plot), plus I tend to start mentally from MCU canon. I mean, if you have something more specific you’d like to see, feel free to ask! (No promises, though, because I already promised way too many people lol)

Long reply... I hope that answers your questions! Thanks for asking, always love talking about WIPs and story ideas :)

[yikesharringrove]

Could we get something where billy gets “outed” about being with a male omega? since it’s Cali does it go okay or does it end up negatively affecting his job?? Your latest part got me wondering....

Part 41

Masterlist

There is BIG homophobia and various anti-LGBTQIA themes.

This jumps around the timeline

-

“I don’t think you should tell the people at work about me.”

Steve was sitting up in bed as Billy leaned against the doorway bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“Come again?” His mouth was all full of toothpaste.

Billy was going to be starting his internship tomorrow afternoon, was going to be heading right there after his morning class.

“I don’t think you should tell them all about me. I mean, you could tell them you have an omega and stuff. I mean, they’ll know from the bond mark, but I just. I don’t think you should actually tell them that I’m, a man.” Billy washed out his mouth, coming to join Steve in bed. He sat in front of them.

“Baby, I’m not ashamed of-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve spoke quickly. “You’re just gonna be around a whole bunch of alphas, and I don’t want them, giving you any shit, or treating you badly for any reason. Any reason you can’t control.”

“What do you want? I love everything about you, and you know I won’t bat an eye at telling them all about my husband.”

“I know, Bill, but that’s, I mean, that’s what I’m worried about. I mean, what if they fire you, just because of me. You’re so smart, and you work so hard, I don’t want this to hold you back.”

“Tell me what to so, Sweet Thing. This is your choice. I just don’t wanna hide the fact that I do have a family.”

“You don’t have to. Just keep it vague about me. Just call me your omega and don’t say my name or anything. I mean, talk about the girls all you want, just leave me out of it.”

“That just means I can’t bring you to company parties, or have your picture anywhere. If that’s what you want, I respect that, but Stevie, this can’t be my forever. I can’t spend my whole working life just, pretending you’re not you.”

“And I think this is a conversation we’ll need to revisit many times, but for right now, as you’re beginning this field as an intern, I think we need to do this. I want you to do this.” He reached up to tug on one of Billy’s curls. He had been growing it out again, but had Steve cut it a week ago when he heard back about the internship. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings that this is our reality. I’ve been a male omega my whole life. I know how it goes.”

Billy turned his head to kiss the palm of Steve’s hand.

“I’m sorry, Baby. I’m sorry you gotta live hidden like this. I’m so proud of our relationship.”

“Me too, Bill. But we can be proud together, with our girls and our family. But at work, just focus on you, and your career.”

-

It’s not that Billy hates his boss, it’s just that his boss is a douchebag alpha with a love of rigid gender roles and talking about tight omega pussy.

So really, Billy hates his boss.

He works at a desk right outside his big office, isn’t much more than a personal assistant, but it pays well enough that he and Steve could get a home, but after a year at the firm, his soul was fucking gone.

He was swaying in his chair, watching as the clock got closer and closer to the time he could leave, go home to his girls and his Steve for the weekend. They were going to have a beach day tomorrow.

He nearly sprinted out of the office at five, hauling ass to get back home.

Zara had turned a year old just last week, and she tottled up to him as he took off his coat, his suit jacket. He could hear Mina chattering away with Steve in the kitchen, could feel the tension melt outta his body as he smelled chicken pot pie, and the milky lavender smell of home.

-

“Mina Bea! Please hold your sister’s hand!” Steve was sitting on the towel, holding down the fort as Billy took the girls in the water. A year postpartum, and Steve finally felt comfortable enough to take off his shirt at the beach, made Billy’s eyes drift back over to him periodically.

They played in the water for a while, returning to Steve when Zara started getting grumpy to eat the picnic he had packed. Billy was wrapped around him, laughing as Mina relayed a story from her summer dance classes when Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck raise.

He whipped around, was expecting to see his father, the uneasy feeling in his gut making him feel like a teenager again.

“Bill? You okay?” And then Billy’s eyes locked on his boss, strolling across the boardwalk with his omega wife, their three preteen sons.

His heart sank.

-

Billy was fucking dreading Monday morning.

Steve was jittery nervous, had made a huge breakfast spread in an attempt to soothe his nerves.

Billy took the stairs to the sixth floor. He didn’t know if he was delaying the inevitable, delaying getting fucking fired.

“Good morning, Mr. Hargrove. You have a good weekend?” Billy didn’t know where the fuck he stood with his boss right now.

“It was very nice, thank you, Mr. Wolfram.”

“Enjoy the beach with your family?”

“Yessir. A perfect day for the beach.”

“Why did I picture you with a wife? I thought you said you had an omega.” Billy’s heart sank.

“I do, Mr. Wolfram. Steve is my omega. He’s my husband.”

“God, always wanted to meet an male omega. What’s he got?” Billy blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“What’s he got? A pussy?” Billy felt like cold water dripping down his spine.

“Why is that any of your business?” Wolfram rolled his eyes, chuckling at Billy.

“C’mon, Hargrove. Just between us guys. I always wondered about male omegas.”

“I still don’t see why it’s your business.”

“Just yes or no. I heard guy omegas have really good pussies. But I heard they have cocks too. I don’t know how you deal with that. Is it big?” Billy was regulating his breathing, going through the exercises the therapist he sees every Wednesday during his lunch hour had given him.

“Mr. Wolfram, I do not want to discuss this with you. This is my husband you’re speaking so disgustingly about.”

“Christ, Hargrove. Don’t be so uptight.”

“I find it incredibly disrespectful that you’re asking these questions.” His chest was heaving. His mind was racing Bill, he’s not worth it. Don’t hit him, don’t throw away your career like that. Billy doesn’t know when the voice of reason in his brain became Steve’s voice, just clutched to it.

“It’s just a little talk between alphas.”

“I don’t like to discuss private matters about my husband. Please stop asking me about his genitals.” He turned on his heel out of the office, stalking back to his own little desk.

He supposes he got off easy, didn’t get immediately fired, and was proud of himself for exercising so much self control.

The day passed as usual until he was returning to his desk from running a file down to the third floor.

He found a neat paper on his desk, a memo from the HR department, a memo informing him of the immediate termination of his position.

Don’t cause a scene, Bill. Just go home. We’ll figure it out. We always do.

He packed his desk quietly, avoiding eye contact with the other employees. There is no doubt in his mind news of his marital situation had spread through the firm.

He left with his head held high, waiting until he got in his car to punch at the steering wheel, to scream and rage and be fucking angry.

The house was empty when he arrived. He collapsed, face down into his bed, settling on Steve’s side, breathing him in.

“Bill? Why are you home? Is everything okay?” Steve was trailing a few delicate fingers down his spine. Billy didn’t know when he had fallen asleep.

“I’m sorry, Stevie.”

“Bill, Baby, you’re scaring me.” Billy rolled over, found Steve, biting his lip, his eyes big and shining.

“I lost my job.” Saying it out loud made Billy feel like shit, made him feel so fucking pathetic.

But Steve’s lip trembled, and his scent went haywire, and Billy moved to tug him onto the bed.

“Because of me? Because he saw us?”

“I really, I don’t know, Baby. I don’t know if that’s why, or, or because he kept, he kept asking me these questions, like kept asking if you have a pussy, and how he’d heard male omegas had a cock too, and if it was big, and I told him I was uncomfortable discussing that with him, and I don’t know if he let me go because of that, I really don’t.”

“But, either way, it’s because of me. Because of what I am.”

“No, Honey. It’s because he’s an asshole,  that wouldn’t know a boundary if it bit him in the ass.” He pushed Steve back to wipe at the big teals in his eyes. “C’mon, what do we always say?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“And we will! I can go back to the garage, and look for other firms. We’ll make it happen.” Steve took a deep breath.

“We’ll figure it out.” He pressed a wet kiss to Billy’s head, settling back on top of him.

[dudeandduchess]

Sanemi x F!S/O: Slow Burn (Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Sanemi wants to get married immediately for personal reasons, and it just so happened that a feisty woman at a restaurant caught his eye. Little did he know that she was going to be his future boss— and even knowing that didn’t stop him from wanting to pursue her. Cue (Y/n), whose siblings are all meddlesome and bratty; enough to tell their father that she had a boyfriend, just for laughs. Not wanting to disappoint him with the thought of her living the rest of her life by herself, she sets out to find the perfect fake boyfriend. Note: This was written waaaay back in 2017, but it never saw the light of day. But I rewrote it for Sanemi, and here it is now. This is only the first part, since i initially planned it to be a three-part fic. But, enjoy, bbys. Hopefully I get to writing part 2 soon. It really depends on your feedback. Haha. Words: 6,252

Warnings: This is more OC-insert than reader-insert. Weird kitchen terms will fly. Which is why I want to scrap the idea altogether, but not without sharing it first.

***

Being away from home was always hard; not only did the person that was away miss the people closest to them, but also felt like they were wedging a gap between themselves and all of their loved ones as time went by. The longer someone was away from home, the bigger the gap grew, and the clearer it was to them that life moved on without them in the picture.

It hurt— of course it did— because it felt like everyone that that person left behind had forgotten about them, like they had become insignificant. But life did go on, even for those who had been the ones to leave— still, that didn’t erase their longing for days long past when their world seemed a much smaller, and marginally simpler place.

Almost nine years had passed since (L/n) (Y/n) moved away from her home to pursue her dreams. She wasn’t going to sugar-coat her story and tell people that she struggled financially while studying at Les Roche International in Switzerland for her Bachelor’s Degree in Hospitality Management, nor was she going to lie and say that she got into the New York campus of the Culinary Institute of America after so many setbacks.

She had been, however, downplaying her lifestyle after getting her associate degree for culinary arts at CIA. It was like she was leading a double life that the friends she made, while flitting from kitchen to kitchen, didn’t know about.

At 25, she had moved to Tokyo by herself to work at the city with the most Michelin Stars in the world; and now that she was at the cusp of turning 27, she was still in the same city, and the same restaurant, with the same one Michelin Star award— but she was a chef de partie now, which just meant more work for her.

Her one-year experience spent working in America after culinary school was a walk in the park compared to working for her current restaurant— well, three restaurants, if one were to be technical about things. Back at her old kitchen in the west, there was a full staff— and a very low employee turnover rate; in fact, it was rare to have people quit back there.

But her current place was— most possibly— worse than what everyone imagined when they heard the term ‘hell on Earth’. It was so bad that it was a regular sight to see people on the line quit on the spot, once they were so deep in the shits during service. She could have always left along with the others before her, but she found a perverse sense of joy from surviving in such a toxic workplace.

Not to mention the fact that she got to rub elbows with some of the best chefs from all over the world, when they came in as guests for one of the three restaurants.

The breakdown of the restaurants was the fine dining restaurant (where the Michelin Star was awarded), a gastropub, and a sub-kitchen for the events that they catered— as well as for those guest chefs that came in once a month for an entire week. The restaurant was huge— spanning 14,500 square feet, as well as a having a basement level where all the nitty gritty parts of the kitchen were.

When she first started there, she felt so exposed in the expansive open kitchen, that allowed the guests in the gastropub to see the hot line in the kitchen; while the pastry and garde manger stations were tucked away behind the wall, that separated the kitchen from the fine dining restaurant.

She couldn’t find a perfect way to describe the layout because it was just that big but, basically, the fine dining restaurant was tucked away from all the commotion— and people had to pass through a tunnel of sorts to get there.

While the gastropub housed both an open bar and the open kitchen, the event spaces as well as the sub-kitchen were hidden away at a loft-type space. It was so confusing to get around at first, but she eventually got used to it.

And now here she was, enjoying the last five minutes of peace of her supposed lunch break standing at the sauté station— her new station— and staring at the 22-quart Cambro filled with freshly-made Mornay, that she had almost shouted at one of the sous chefs about.

She was just lucky that she came in three (unpaid) hours early for work, because she wanted to get ahead on her prep; so she had enough time to squeeze in making the mornay with the other hundred things she had to do.

With such a big kitchen and a lack of people, everyone ended up stealing each other’s prep— whether it was for a VIP, or a party, or basically whatever that needed to be made. As long as it was in the walk-in fridge, it was fair game.

She was just happy to finally have been taken out of garde manger because— even if the station was meant for two people since it was prep-heavy (four if you count the two other people needed to take care of the parties)— she had been stuck working it by herself for the past five months.

“(Y/n), did you go on break yet?” The executive sous chef yelled from the pass— which was basically the area where their executive chef stood and expedited food during service; and just behind the pass was the stairs leading down to the basement floor. They also had an elevator, which was extremely helpful… when it wasn’t out of service.

“I am on break, chef,” the (h/c) haired girl answered with a laugh— when she just wanted to punch the guy square in the face, since he was the one who had used up the 14 quarts of Mornay that she had in the upstairs walk-in fridge yesterday.

“You know you shouldn’t be working, right?” The man asked her with a sardonic tilt of his head, that made (Y/n) want to scream. Just because he was higher up in the ranks than her made him think that he was the shit when, in fact, he was just shit— shit at his job, and shit as a person.

I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. She repeated her age-old mantra in her head, and then answered, “I know, chef. I’m-” the apology was about to slip from her lips when she caught it. “It won’t happen again, chef.”

“Make sure it doesn’t.” One of the banes of her existence called out before going down the stairs.

“Oui, chef!” (Y/n) cried, gritting her teeth afterwards, so she could hold back the snarky comeback that was threatening to spill from her lips. Really, she loved her job, but it was pricks like that who stressed her out.

And so, she took a deep breath and exhaled it in one strong gust— refocusing her mind so that she would be ready for the five parties up in the lofts, as well as the 250 covers that they had in the fine dining restaurant.

*** 

“Fire trio!” The executive chef, a 37-year old man from Florida (that used to be fit when he first arrived at the restaurant a year ago), called out from the pass— marking the ticket in his hand and tucking it into the slider bar mounted to the steel shelf that was mounted to the ceiling.

Everyone called out a loud chorus of ‘Oui’ in response.

Trios were there appetizer, and those got sent to the table before anything else, so it was synonymous with ‘another table just sat down’.

(Y/n) kept on making the orders that she had on her board, often moving from her stove to the Josper oven to put sauté pans with food inside. She was running out of burners on the stove, and it was starting to piss her off.

From behind her, the ticket machine whirred to life and started printing out an extremely long ticket. She internally groaned, before picking up one of the sauté pans on her stove and giving the mushrooms in it a little toss.

And all of that was happening while she had another ticket in her hand— memorizing all of her items on it.

“Order in! Four soup, two kale salads on the fly!” Whoever was serving the table on this ticket must have hated her, because she was already in the shits without any orders of their version of vichyssoise. But they just had to recommend the fucking thing now.

“Oui, chef! Four soup on the fly! Give me three minutes, chef!” (Y/n) yelled in a gruff voice— letting her frustration out in a non-hostile manner as she practically threw the pan of mushrooms in her hand, into the Josper behind her to cook them further.

Her brain was buzzing with so many things that she had to remember— the mushrooms in the Josper, the pan of broccolini she put in before the mushrooms, the truffle gnocchi that she still had to make in the next five minutes, and all of the other dishes from her station that needed to be up for the next table.

Sometimes even she amazed herself when she managed to finish a busy night, without getting yelled at even once.

“171 up at 15,” the executive chef yelled once more, and (Y/n) clicked her tongue as she hurriedly heated up the soup, while simultaneously plating her orders on that ticket— since it was already 7:14, so she had only a minute to get that done.

“Where’s my soup!? How long here, chef?”

“One minute, chef!” Her head was pounding with so much stress, but she pushed through it by taking all the food she had for table 171, and parked them beneath the heat lamps at the pass— calling out ‘hot, behind’ frantically at almost the top of her lungs.

“Fuck my life.” (Y/n) grumbled under her breath, as she plated up the dry components for the soup. She then grabbed her quenelle spoon from its secluded bain to make rochers of whipped crème fraîche. And once those were done, she poured the soup into four tiny, ceramic pitchers, before putting everything up at the pass. “Soup at the window, chef!”

No answer came, which was normal, so the (h/c) haired girl kept on cooking whatever was printed out on the new tickets that came in. It wasn’t until she picked up one of the pans on her stove that she froze.

She wanted to scream and let go of the pan because she had forgotten that she had just taken it out from the Josper, yet she couldn’t let it go, because it was filled with the truffle gnocchi. So, she slammed it down on the steel countertop beside her before she waved her right hand around.

There was a nice, clear burn mark where the piping hot steel handle had touched her skin, and she clicked her tongue as she resumed working; trying to ignore the pain as she put up ticket after ticket.

***

Shinazugawa Sanemi had been watching her all night from his table, that was a mere few feet away from where she was working.

The moment that he sat down and turned to watch the show inside the kitchen, his gaze instantly gravitated towards her. She didn’t stick out because she was a woman, no, he was used to seeing women not being forced into gender roles now— but she stuck out because of the way that she moved in there. She held herself with so much poise and grace, that it looked like she was gliding across the floor at times, all while yelling in a brusque tone.

He took a sip of his beer and licked his lips— eyes never leaving her. It was so obvious that she was getting overwhelmed with the influx of orders bombarding her every second, but he was impressed with the way she handled all of that pressure with a mere furrow of her brows here and there; until she burned her hand.

Sanemi expected her to stop the show to ask for help, and he chuckled in mild disbelief when she merely shook her right hand, before picking up where she had left off.  It was as if nothing had happened.

That woman was really something, and his curiosity was piqued.

Sanemi had to admit that he had been lacking female company as of late, because of four things; namely:

He had gotten tired of sleeping with his flings, because they always expected more than one night.

No woman had a personality that kept him interested for longer than a week, as every single one of them had a heart like a marshmallow— too soft and sweet.

No one could put up with his abrasive personality, and most importantly…

He wanted to get married. The sooner, the better.

Part of his desire to get married was because his younger brother, Genya, was already engaged and getting married next year— so he wanted to get another thing over his brother. He had been taught better than to think of a life commitment as a means for a competition, but he simply didn’t care: he wanted to have what his brother always said was unparalleled happiness.

But the more pressing issue was that… he was starting to feel lonely. He didn’t make a habit of getting jealous, but he found himself going green with envy whenever his married staff— both from his previous company and the new one— mentioned even the simplest night with their respective wives. He wanted that for himself as well.

Hell, he was prepared to pay any amount to any woman that could keep up with him, just so she would marry him. But maybe he was doomed to stay single forever— he didn’t know.

So, there he was— out drinking beer by his lonesome self on a Thursday night, because he didn’t want to be alone in his apartment.

He had thought that it was too small for his taste at first but, as time went by, he realized that it felt cold and empty without someone to share it with. After the party was done and all the bottles of alcohol were picked up, he was always left with a cold feeling of emptiness weighing him down.

“Would you like another pint, sir?” One of the waiters asked Sanemi as they were passing by. He didn’t even realize that he’d finished the whole glass.

The silver-haired man shook his head even though he wanted nothing more than to get plastered, so he could just amble home and instantly fall asleep on his bed. “No, thanks. But… could you get me a menu?”

It didn’t take long for the waiter to get back to him with a menu booklet in hand. He briefly thanked the man and browsed through the pages; lifting his eyes up to the (h/c) haired woman every once in a while. Based on what he had observed, the dishes that she was making wasn’t on this menu, so he flagged down another waiter.

“Are you ready to order, sir?”

“I was wondering if I could order some soup to start?” Sanemi asked in a no-nonsense manner, that he hoped would let him order something that clearly wasn’t on the menu for that part of the restaurant.

The waiter cast a glance over at the kitchen, and seemed to hesitate before nodding. “Of course, sir. Our soup is our chef’s version of a vichyssoise-” The young man drowned his voice out then, only half listening as is gaze flitted back to the woman. “Do you have any allergies or specifications?”

“No, no allergies.”

“Would you like anything else to go with your soup? A steak, perhaps? Or our truffle gnocchi; it’s one of our best sellers.”

He vaguely remembered her using truffles, so he found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t even matter to him that he had no clue what gnocchi was. “Sure. And I’d like to send a glass of red wine to one of the chefs— the finest you have.”

Again, he didn’t know a lick about wines or any of the fancy food that they served. And since he was more of a beer and anything-with-rice kind of guy, who was trying to get her attention, he had to play it up. He did have the money for it, so why not?

“Very well, sir. To which of the chefs would you like me to give your present to?” The waiter asked graciously, and Sanemi pointed over to where the woman was still working.

“To her.”

“Oh, I… uh…” the guy stuttered uncomfortably, hesitating a bit as Sanemi raised his eyebrows at him. “Yes, sir. I’ll give it to (Y/n); may I tell her who it’s from?”

“No. Just tell her that it’s from a new admirer— and that she should get that hand checked.”

***

“Chef, I have tomorrow and the next two days off, okay?” (Y/n) chirped as she popped her head into the chefs’ office, only to see the higher ups filing last minute orders and double-checking inventories for the night. It was always like that every night after service; everyone on the line would clean up in the kitchen— consolidating their mise and storing them in the upstairs walk-in chiller— before scrubbing everything down and doing their own little tasks for their stations.

“Why?” The executive chef asked, turning his chair so that he was facing her. “When did you ask me to give you that off?”

“Two weeks ago, chef. Remember?” She rolled her eyes with a sigh, which she never would have gotten away with during service. But after she was off the clock was a very different story. “I even wrote it down on a blue sticky note— right there!”

The man laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Have fun doing whatever it is that you’re going to do.”

“I wish I could, but I know that it’s going to be boring as fuck.”

“You can always work.” He offered with a grin.

(Y/n) laughed and shook her head. “Nice try, chef. But no. My attendance is a must at this family thing.”

“You’re going home to Osaka?” The sous-chef asked, turning his chair as well, so that he could look at the (h/c) haired girl standing in the doorway.

“No. If only Chef Jason would let me have a week off, right, chef?” She turned to the executive chef— Jason— with an innocent grin. “But alas, he’s going to miss me too much.”

“Your station’s going to crash and burn without you,” Jason griped with a huff.

“You’ll manage, chef. It’s only three days. But please don’t burn through all of my prep. I already stocked up on the things I could stock up on, and the rest of the gnocchi is in the freezer. I also finished doing my prep list. So, I’ll be going now! Bye, chefs!” With a wave, (Y/n) hightailed it out of there before they could tell her to get a jacket on and help them with party prep for tomorrow.

Like hell she was going to let that happen again. Fool her once, shame on her; but fool her twice… then she was dumb as fuck.

Once she made it out of the restaurant, she slowly made her way up the street— thinking about whether she should call an Uber to drive her to her condominium building. It was only three blocks away, but her feet were already killing her.

In the end, she took out her phone and sat down at the nearest bus stop to wait for her ride.

She looked down at her hands under the dim light above her, sighing heavily as she took note of how her cuts and burns stood out starkly against her skin. What once used to be unmarred and flawless— the envy of her friends back in high school— were so different now. Ugly as fuck for everyone else, but for her… “It gives me more character.”

A quiet laugh escaped her lips at that, and she heaved another sigh when she was reminded of what she had to face tomorrow at Nanafumi’s 50th anniversary party. Had it been any of the other companies in the long string of companies under her family’s ownership, she wouldn’t have even bothered to show her face, but since it was her family’s flagship company in Japan, attendance was a must.

Nanafumi was the crowning glory of her father’s empire— and it was the closest to his heart, because it had always been his late wife’s dream to become a big player in the Japanese market. Fifty years later, and the company that she had helped build was still one of the biggest players in the business world.

Along with the news of how the upcoming anniversary was going to be extremely fancy, there were so many talks going around that (Y/n) was the one who was going to be taking over the company. Since it was a food manufacturing company, many people thought that it made sense for her to take over.

But she didn’t want to take over the company; not because she was being rebellious, but because she wasn’t born with her father’s business acumen or her mother’s sharp business mind. Her sharp tongue, yes, but her mind… not so much.

Hell, there were six other siblings of hers to choose from, and all of them were just as qualified as she was to run Nanafumi. She could run it, but she would be running it into the ground.

(Y/n) was shaken from her reverie when a car pulled up in front of her. She checked the plates, and once she confirmed that it was her Uber, she hopped in for the quick trip to her building.

Suffice to say, her living quarters were… more than adequate for one person to live in. It used to be where she and her family lived when they spent month-long vacations in Tokyo, and her dad had given it to her as a present… along with the building itself.

She didn’t want to accept it at first, but she was a reasonable person. Not only was the unit already fully-paid for (which meant no rent to think of), but she also used the profits from the building itself (from the commercial spaces on the first three floors, to the monthly rent that some residential tenants paid) to pay for her own expenses.

She was basically set for life, but she didn’t want to just sit back and be a bum for the rest of her existence. Her mother had raised her better than that.

Even though both of her parents came from old money, they were pretty decent people. They didn’t look down on others, and made her and her siblings know the value of working hard for something you were passionate about. She liked to believe that all seven of them turned out to be well-rounded individuals.

And they were. If only her four older brothers and two younger sisters weren’t batshit crazy.

If she were to be honest, her family was like a pack of wild animals when all of them managed to get together. Everyone was so rowdy (sometimes even herself), but all of that was due to their closeness with each other; not because they fought or anything like that.

Yes, they did fight, but that was only when a good number of them were drunk as fuck.

She was just about ready to collapse when she managed to enter her place, swinging the door shut behind her, as she kicked her kitchen clogs off in the foyer. With a sigh, she walked towards her phone and pressed the button to hear all of her messages.

In this day and age, only her family would still use landline phones, and leave messages on answering machines.

“(Y/n), don’t forget the party tomorrow. It’s at seven.” Her father’s deep voice rang in the cavernous living area, making her smile as he spoke in their native Kansai dialect. “And bring your boyfriend with you— Miko told me that you got one over there? Is he husband material? (Y/n), you’re already 27, it’s time you got married and had kids.”

A loud groan escaped (Y/n)’s lips, as she pressed stop on the machine. She was going to kill Miko— her youngest sister— tomorrow. But tonight, it was time to eat something for her first meal of the day, get showered to get rid of the horrendous kitchen smell, and then get some much-needed sleep.

There was a stigma about people who worked in a kitchen: that they always had time to eat because they had access to so much food, but that was a laughable rumor.

They didn’t even have time to breathe, because they were always so busy doing their prep for the day. The most that she could eat on busy days was a French fry, or maybe a piece of raw tuna, but that was it.

And there was that time, about two weeks ago, that she got a glass of wine in the middle of service. The waiter didn’t say who it was from exactly, only that it was from an admirer— someone that knew about her burning her hand.

It was weird, not to mention creepy, but she took the glass with fervor and raised it up to the dining room— thanking whomever had sent her the alcohol, before downing it.

It certainly wasn’t her most refined moment, but she needed alcohol in her system at that time— and that more than did the trick for her. She had a slight buzz going, which emptied her mind and made her work more efficiently, so whomever it was that sent her that glass of wine had saved her from losing her sanity that day.

The wine kept coming every other day or so for a whole week, until it just stopped. She was bummed at first— because hey, it was free alcohol— until she had almost completely forgotten about it; until that moment.

She grabbed a pack of instant ramen from her cupboard stash, and promptly set out to make it.

Another misconception about chefs was that they always ate the best kinds of food— even at home, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Most chefs— especially those who worked full time in a restaurant— ate junk when they got home. The quicker it cooked, the better.

So all those last-minute aglio olio dreams, that some people imagined that chefs ate at home were just those: dreams.

The irony wasn’t lost on (Y/n), though. She spent her days making some of the best and most expensive food for people, but she always ate like a broke college student at home. Hell, broke college students even had time to order pizza— and she could have done that, if she didn’t get out of work at 11 or 12 at night.

Still, she loved what she did. After all, she also had a little of the crazy gene in her.

 ***

Dresses weren’t really high up on (Y/n)’s list of things that she liked to wear. Not anymore, anyway.

When she was in university, she loved dressing up and putting so much effort into her make up, but when she entered culinary school (where everything that wasn’t an ingredient was a food safety hazard) she let go of all the make-up, and the dresses, as well as the high heels that went with them.

There was one thing that culinary school helped her with, though: her confidence. When before, she had a hard time talking to people and had to force herself to be sociable at parties; after culinary school, she was so used to being the center of attention, because some of her mentors had a knack for yelling at their students in front of the entire class.

Hell, in the restaurant industry, people tended to treat everyone like shit— so she had basically been through a few mortifying situations that toughened her up enough to be somewhat shameless.

A downside to being toughened up by the kitchen was the potty mouth that came with the territory, though. And so, it took quite some effort for (Y/n) to keep herself from slipping a few casual ‘fuck’s, ‘damn’s, ‘shit’s, and a few other choice words into regular conversation, like she was adding salt to a bland dish.

“(Y/n)!” Her second-oldest brothers— twins— chorused as she entered the expansive events hall.

“Hello, motherfuckers,” (Y/n) greeted with a grin, which made a few heads turn to look at her, because of her language. Frankly, she couldn’t care less. She then hugged her brothers tightly and kissed their cheeks. “I haven’t seen you two in forever. How’s life in sunny Australia?”

“Really hot,” Yoshio, the older one of the twins, answered— fanning himself with his hand to emphasize his point.

“Lots of kangaroos,” Ren, the younger one of the two, piped up with a laugh. “Some even find their way on campus.”

“And you didn’t bring one for me? What kind of brothers are you?” (Y/n) asked with a chortle, before making eye contact with Yoshio. He hadn’t been trying to be discreet with his perusal of the faint scars that littered the backs of her hands.

With a brief shake of his head at his twin, Ren vocalized his thoughts, “It’s part of her job, bro. And haven’t you gotten used to seeing them on her already?”

Yoshio didn’t even have time to answer, because he was suddenly tackled in a hug from behind. The same happened to Ren, and (Y/n) just about laughed, only to be cut off when a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her in a bear hug.

“Akio-nii!” (Y/n) managed to breathe past her lips, and her older brother set her down once more. She whirled around to face him, and was about to hit his chest with the back of her hand, when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head.

Out of all her siblings, she had to admit that she had always been the closest to Akio. They were the closest in age, but that played very little with their closeness. When their mother died a few years after Miko was born, Akio was the one who had doted on her. It was as if herself and her siblings had become self-sufficient once the matriarch of the house was gone.

The twins took care of Miko and Chiasa— which explained why the girls were clinging on to each of their brothers tightly. And while Akio took care of her, their eldest sibling— Masaru— served as their father figure, as their actual father was almost always away on business.

In line of birth order, it was Masaru, Akio, Yoshio and Ren, then her, which was followed by Chiasa, and last came Miko.

People were starting to stare at their sizeable group, but they paid the prying gazes no mind as they all caught up with each other’s lives.

“Where’s your boyfriend, (Y/n)-nee?” Chiasa asked aloud. Her curiosity wasn’t even veiled with any sort of pleasantry. It was plain as day that her younger sister wanted to meet this nonexistent boyfriend that Miko had been talking about.

“Boyfriend? There’s no such person?” (Y/n) answered with a glare at Miko. Her sister frantically shook her head and raised her hands up in mock surrender.

“It wasn’t me. It was Ren-nii that told me about it.” Miko replied in her defense.

All five pairs of eyes swiveled over to the man in question, who only balked before shaking his head. “It was otō-san. He told me you had a boyfriend.”

“But he left a message telling me that it was Miko who told him.” (Y/n) quirked her eyebrows at her sister, and then added, “Miko, tell the truth.”

“It really wasn’t me. I swear!” The youngest (L/n) pleaded earnestly, which made (Y/n) sigh and shake her head in mild irritation.

“(Y/n), there you are.” Masaru’s familiar voice rang out over the din of voices inside the ballroom. And all six of his siblings turned to look at him, as he crossed the room with an envelope in his hand. “Dad wants you to deliver the speech. Just read this. Come on, the program’s already starting.”

Her eldest brother didn’t give her much of a choice after that, as he took her by the wrist and dragged her over to where a stage was set up. She couldn’t even look over her shoulder to see their other siblings’ expressions, since she was too busy trying not to do a face plant on the floor.

It didn’t take long for her and Masaru to reach the side of the stage, where a lady in a pantsuit was waiting rather impatiently. She looked a bit frazzled already, so she didn’t want to add anymore to her stress. She knew what being under so much stress felt like, and she wasn’t going to be the reason why someone had a breakdown.

“I just need to read this, right?” (Y/n) snatched the envelope out of her brother’s hand.

“Yeah,” Masaru answered with a slight smile. He then wrapped his arms around his sister and pressed a kiss to the top of her head; which was an easy feat considering how tall he was. “Dad would do it, but he’s running a bit late. He said that he wants you to do it.”

That just sounded off to (Y/n), but she remained quiet. Now wasn’t the time for protests about taking over the company, or anything like that. If that wasn’t heavy implication coming from her father, then she didn’t know what was.

And with that, the lady with them explained her cues, before practically pushing her up the side stairs of the stage. She listened attentively to the host as he went on about useless drivel concerning the party, and then some of her background information, before finally introducing her to the crowd.

Gingerly, she made her way to the podium that was set up to the right side of the stage, and smiled at the crowd. She couldn’t exactly pick out who to smile at, since the spotlight practically blinded her, but she didn’t dwell on that fact as she opened the envelope and read through the speech that was written inside.

“What the fuck is this?” She whispered to herself, as she quickly skimmed through the contents of the speech. It sounded so impersonal and generic, even to her.

So, with a suppressed sigh of irritation, she folded the speech up and set it down on the podium. She reckoned that anything that came from her mouth would sound more sincere and personal than the drivel that was written in that letter.

“Good evening, everyone. It’s nice to see all of you celebrating with my family and I tonight,” (Y/n) began hesitantly, but eventually gathered up the courage to push through with her sudden change of plans. She just had to remember not to curse, and she would be good. “As all of you may know, Nanafumi was my parents’ dream fifty years ago. It used to be called Mochifumi, as my mother loved mochi very much. But it was changed around nineteen years ago, after my youngest sister was born. That made seven of us, hence Nana in the name, and Fumi— as in Fumiko, our mother.”

From the corner of her eye, (Y/n) saw her father enter through a side entrance by the stage. He even had the gall to grin and offer her two thumbs up, which made her chuckle and shake her head. Her old man had always been a sly one.

He had planned this; down to the shitty, pre-written speech.

***

To say that that speech had taken a lot out of (Y/n) would be the understatement of the century. She felt as if most of her energy was sapped the moment she got off that goddamned stage. And one measly glass of champagne wasn’t going to cut it; which was why she was already on her third one when he came up to her.

“That speech was quite something,” Sanemi hadn’t meant for his words to come out as mocking, but they had, and he already wanted to slap himself. Initially, he was surprised to find out that the lady that he had been so hard-up for at that restaurant was his boss’ boss’ boss’ daughter; but he had gotten over that initial shock and had carefully crafted a plan to get her to go home with him.

Or maybe even make out with him in a supply closet somewhere. Anything to get her to think about him enough to make her interested.

“Thank you, but… do I know you?”

Sanemi had to admit that the comment stung, but he wasn’t going to let that deter him from getting the (h/c) haired woman where he wanted her; preferably in his bed.