#my paycheck in a week is gonna hit CRAZY

[uraniumglassgirl]

No bc thinking about money makes me wanna die

[yellowsubiesdance]

good thing i have therapy today, because i’m feeling absolutely horrible

[schizononagesimus]

You know what I'm gonna add to this here instead of in the tags. I'm homeless. It's not my first time; I missed most of 4th grade because my mom is disabled and had just escaped an abusive boyfriend. We were mostly squatting then, because one of our friends owned some real estate and would leave the apartments unlocked for us when they were unoccupied.

I was kind of born into this. Seriously, I see why people think we're a "breed". Most homelessness is chronic, and a lot of people can't fathom why. But here's one scenario that might help explain that:

Your family is poor. Your family isn't exactly mentally well, either, so you mostly don't speak to each other; you have to make your own family and support networks.

You manage to go to a prestigious university on a scholarship once, and then manage to get student loans to get your Master's degree in a city far away from home. You work all throughout school, supporting yourself completely on your own.

You do groundbreaking research that becomes internationally renowned, earning you keynote talks, grants, journal publications.

Naturally, you apply for PhDs. And you get in! Without funding. And it's $40,000 a year without living costs. You can't take anymore student loans out- you've already hit the borrowing limit. Your family can't help you. During all of this, your job experiences a budget freeze, and has to slash their office staff by half. Suddenly, you have no job, no family to help with living expenses, and nothing lined up for... God, rent is due in 30 days.

You apply to jobs, but thirty days is never enough time to find anything, so you set up a GFM. It gets close to the goal, but is $300 off, so you take out an extra credit card to pay the last of your rent for that month.

You can't afford that rent again, it's just too difficult to swing in your situation, so you decide to move back to the city your undergrad was in, since you have friends there who you could stay with and more job opportunities. You reduce everything you own to two suitcases and get the cheapest flight out.

You sleep on your friend's sofa bed for a couple of weeks before a shitty retail job comes through for you. It doesn't matter what the job is, or that the money isn't enough, it's a job to at least keep you afloat for a little while while you look for other employment.

The problem? You have to save up money for an apartment. Housing is already scarce unless you know someone. Subletting a room is really your only option to have a place of your own, since you can't get a cosigner with good credit to back you up since your own credit tanked because you can't pay off the credit card debt you got into to prevent yourself from being suddenly homeless. You also don't have 3x the monthly rent in income, or a crazy savings account, or the money for a deposit. So you still have to sleep on your friend's sofa bed, even though you have a job.

You try to look for another job, but you're working so many hours that it's difficult to find the time. You work on your feet, so when you get home you just crash. The management at your job isn't good. In fact, it's so bad that someone in upper management regularly "takes advantage" of you being a minority. Disgusted, you tell your direct supervisor. The day after, you're fired.

Out of a job (and now in the middle of a pro bono lawsuit), your friends let you sleep on their sofa bed for a little while longer. You had spent most of your paychecks paying off debt so you could get an apartment, so you don't have much savings.

But eventually, your friends just need the space, plain and simple; they have other friends and family to take care of. You have to find somewhere else, and so you sleep on other friends' couches, and stay in hotels people put you up in, and stay with your partner when their roommate is gone, and try to set up a petsitting gig that might get you through one more month. Your friends introduce you to other people who might be able to help, too.

You try to apply to jobs. It's really hard to find the time to apply between changing houses and worrying about money, not to mention that you have to cross your fingers and hope they don't want an in person interview because you don't have the clothes for it. You're lucky you can use your alumni status for a private space to take an interview in at the library.

You want to apply to PhDs again, because if you get funding then that's it--this hell can end. But applying to PhDs was the hardest thing you ever did academically and by itself took every ounce of your time and energy--jobless and houseless, you simply don't have that right now. Hell, the only reason you're eating is because a friend made you leftovers. How are you supposed to apply to PhDs like this?

This is what happened to me.

I still have other unhoused people come up to me on the street and ask for money, and I have to tell them man, me too. And sometimes we get to talking about how the hell we ended up here. In my experience, it's mostly people like me- not a lot of family, a minority, an education of some kind, and one bad day.

Having degrees doesn't guarantee a job, and having a job doesn't guarantee housing. A lot of the reason people stay homeless is because you don't have the resources to get a job (interview clothes, a good internet connection, a place to take a call), the job market is a nightmare, they then need to save up for a house, the housing market is a nightmare, and then there's the problem of being hungry and needing healthcare (and in most states, you can't get government support on that without an address). Not to mention the issue with women's shelters generally being full up, and if they're not, you can only have a small locker of items with you... So say goodbye to most of your clothes and other items and have fun trying to buy those back if/when you get back on your feet. So basically, you're homeless because you don't have a job, and you don't have a job because you're homeless, and the cycle repeats. This is why homelessness is chronic.

This is why shit like tent cities happen, and that's not an option for me because my city has the cops sweep them out nightly. That's somebody's home (and God that tent cost a lot of money). Mostly my friends are just trying to keep me out of the shelter so I don't have to rebuild my entire life again, more so than I already have to.

I will say, I feel lucky that I've gotten the donations and other help I've gotten. The problem with being any minority is that your support system is most likely going to be people who are just at risk as you are. I'm also lucky I'm able to have healthcare, because straight up if I didn't I'd be dead without my medication.

This is just one example, and it's very different than what happened to my mom because of her disability--but that's her story to tell.

PS- in the US, there are four definitions of homeless, so please, if you hear "I'm couchsurfing" or "sleeping in my car," please hear HOMELESS. A lot of people are too ashamed to say it or just don't know that that's what they are because they have clean clothes and technically don't sleep outside.

[psychosomatist]

Just contacted an eating disorder recovery place. Therapist recommended inpatient. A big barrier there is finances. I was feeling really scared about getting institutionalized but the place I looked at (only one that would work) looks nice actually. So I feel less afraid now.

But it would be a month. And I would not necessarily know when this would be. If I was doing school still that would be an issue. There is a chance that I could take asynchronous classes. But yeah a month without a phone so I'd have to tell people something.

Honestly too... like if I wasn't at my house living my life I wouldn't be spending much money. So, there's a chance of not doing next term either and just paying student loan payments for three months which I could do since I'd be working 2 out of the 3 months.

And I'm getting 3 paychecks and a $500 bonus in December. And I don't have to pay anything for treatment bc of OHP and I know that I could get leave from my job whether or not it qualifies for FMLA, and I have like a week of PTO and will get 3 personal days at the new year so actually honestly I think I would be OK.

So really the only thing that would be hard would be telling Dii and Leighta the truth and honestly it would be shitty/embarrassing to tell Julio if we are still seeing each other. I think my fear is that talking about it seems like an ask of support when it's not. I'd be able to get them rent ahead of time. I guess I just don't want people to be like "oh cool glad I connected my life to the life of a crazy person love that"

And I don't want people to be weird around me when I come back.

The truth is I don't know if iop is gonna be enough.

If I'm honest, I wasn't expecting for my therapist to recommend inpatient. That kind of hit me hard. And idk hearing her diagnosis and that recommendation was just a lot. So I've been in kind of shut down mode. I shut down in session. Like just full on face totally blank dissociating not responding to her. I couldn't speak. Then after that I completely broke down.

The admissions office called me right back as I write this. There's a 1-3 week wait list. So I could still do it before the term starts. I wouldn't get the 3 paychecks but I'd still get the bonus and I have the PTO for 1 week and some money in savings which would cover rent. This is more doable than I thought actually. It would be in PDX or Springfield so not far.

[piratesfromspace]

Finance Management (Deckard Shaw/Reader)

Deckard Shaw (Fast & Furious) x Reader

Word count: 1.9k CW: mention of food & alcohol, smut

Female reader

Note: This short fic has been inspired by a friend of mine who created the character of the financial advisor of mister Shaw.  Also there is not enough fics with Deckard Shaw so here we are. 

Read on Ao3

MASTERLIST

“Mister Shaw, it’s me again, I’m so sorry but I really need you to call me back please. It’s important. Thank you.”

You let out a deep sigh as you hang up. Handling the finances of rich people is a lucrative and thrilling job, but damn it sometimes those clients of yours are annoying. Especially Mister Shaw.

First, he’s annoyingly busy and unreachable. Most powerful people are, but he can disappear for weeks on end without so much as sending an email.

Second, he’s also infuriatingly handsome and smart and funny. And he has an impeccable sense of style. He has nothing in common with the other clients of your firm, mainly old and boring men, whose only conversation subject is their money and how they hate their wives.

And finally, the worst thing about him is how good of a lover he is. You found out half a year ago, when you ended up in his bed after what should have been a regular business dinner. It was a mistake of course. One that could have cost you your career because it was a very serious breach of contract to sleep with a client.

You never told a soul, and you promised yourself to never do it again. But it was still hard to forget the feeling of him pressed against you, of his hands holding your waist, of his mouth between your thighs...

You try to focus again on your task and stretch your legs, kicking out your high heels. Feet bare on the soft carpet, you walk to the floor-to-ceiling window of your posh office, taking a second to admire the view, as the final rays of the sun disappear over the lake, and Geneva lights up under you. It’s breath-taking, really. But it also means you’re once again staying way too late at the office. Your assistant has gone home a couple hours ago, and your colleagues are either on vacation or on business trips, making you the only person on the building’s 7th floor. You still have a few things to finish so you plop on your leather chair and get back to work, hoping to make it home before 11pm.

That’s when you hear it: the familiar *ding* of the elevator’s door, at the end of the corridor. You tense immediately. You’re not waiting for anyone, and the security guards always use the stairs when completing their patrol.

Steps are coming down your way, and you grab your phone, ready to dial for the security team. And then you recognize his silhouette through the polished glass wall. There is a knock on your door before it opens to reveal Deckard Shaw himself. He’s wearing an expensive suit and an even more expensive watch, a very light stubble is highlighting his perfect jawbone and his deep grey eyes bear a mischievous glint. Handsome, as always.

“Mister Shaw…” you stammer.

“You know you can call me Deckard.” His stupidly sexy British accent and cocky smile will be the death of you.

He’s been in your office for two seconds and you already want to slap him in the face - or climb him like a tree, you can’t really decide.

“It’s quite late, Mister Shaw, you scared me. Anything I can do for you?” you insist on saying his family name, in a feeble attempt to maintain a professional façade.

“You needed to see me.” it’s more a comment than a question, and you’re suddenly reminded of the dozen of unanswered phone calls you made trying to reach him.

“Yes… yes, that’s right, but honestly you could have called tomorrow morning.”

“I’d rather see you in person.” he answers, looking you straight in the eyes. You can feel yourself blushing under his gaze. “Wanted to make sure you’re alright. You’re working too much you know.” he says with a soft smile, as his eyes drift down to your sore bare feet and then to the discarded heels under your desk.

What a condescending prick, you think. But at the same time, he’s right and his care seems somewhat genuine. It will not make you forget you almost lost your job because of him though.

“How did you know I was still here tonight?” you purposely redirect the attention on him, rather than you.

“Well, let’s say I would not leave the woman in charge of my assets without any... supervision.”

“Is that a polite way to say you’ve been spying on me?” you retort dryly.

“Oh I love when you’re getting all angry and snobbish, your French accent is even cuter.”

You’re gonna murder him. You really really want to tell him to go fuck himself, but he’s the one responsible for a very generous part of your paycheck, so you have to keep quiet.

“I would be more comfortable if we keep our conversation strictly professional, Mister Shaw.”

“Everything you want, dear.”

-----

“Mmph, fu-ck... Deckard, don’t stop”

The professional attitude has been long forgotten, since Deckard has pulled you onto his lap on the velvet couch of his presidential suite at the Four Seasons hotel, where you were supposed to only review the important documents he needed to see. But when the room service had brought a very nice bottle of Scotch, you knew you were screwed. You could not refuse a drink, and the warmth of alcohol combined with the warmth of his hand slightly brushing against your thigh had overcome all your resolve.

You are now sprawled on the king-size bed, moaning his name as Deckard Shaw is destroying your sanity very methodically. One foot on the floor, one leg bent on the edge of the bed, he’s pounding into you, holding your hip with one hand, and circling your clit with the other. His pace is calculated, not too fast so you can feel every inch of him, but not too slow so your nerves don’t have any respite, and it’s driving you crazy. Hands tangled in the dark silk sheets beneath you, you try to catch your breath to no avail.

“I won’t stop darling. Not until I can feel you coming again all over me.” His voice is like heavy honey, dripping all over your senses, drowning you in sweet and sinful promises.

You want to close your eyes to focus on the overwhelming feelings, but the view in front of you is too good to be missed. He looks like some demi-god, bathed in the subdued light of the room, broad and muscular chest, abs perfectly drawn. What is his job again? You vaguely remember him talking about serving a few years in the military when he was younger, but he is still definitely hitting the gym on a regular basis.

His muscles flex when he brings you down on his thick cock a little more sharply than before, and you keen as he hits that perfect spot inside of you. You can feel your orgasm build again, and so can he.

“You’re close, princess, aren’t you?”

You mewl in response and he chuckles darkly, keeping up with his ruthless assault on your most sensitive parts. He angles his fingers just a bit differently on your clit, and keeps thrusting into you, stretching you so perfectly you can’t remember the last time someone fucked you this good - wait , actually you can, it was a few months ago and it was by mister Deckard “annoyingly perfect” Shaw.

“Come on, I know you want to, I’ll keep going until you give me one more anyway princess…”

And that's it. You’re gone. Back arching off the bed, you come hard, harder than the first time, clenching around him. You barely hear him hiss in pleasure as you spasm helplessly on the soft sheets, the silk feeling almost cool against your burning skin.

----

“Good morning darling."

You open an eye, natural light is flooding the room, as is the delicious smell of fresh coffee and tea. At the foot of the bed, you spot a room service trolley loaded with breakfast treats and through the open door of the bathroom, you can see Deckard is looking at you in the mirror reflection while buttoning a crisp white shirt.

"Your tea is ready. Black, no milk, right?”

He's right and it's annoying because is there anything this man messes up?

"What time is it?" You ask, suddenly remembering you have a busy schedule today.

"You have 27 minutes to eat and get ready, so I can drop you off at your office in time for your first call of the day."

He knows about your tea preferences and your professional agenda, of course he does , he was not joking when mentioning the whole "spying-on-you" situation, or "supervision" as he liked to call it. He needs to stop it, but you decide to keep this discussion for another day.

You stretch, and rise to put on the hotel bathrobe, sighing at the thought of having to wear the same clothes as yesterday. Last you saw them, they were scattered on the floor all over the room and your underwear were positively ruined.

"The concierge was very helpful this morning, thanks to him I got you a few clothes delivered for today." Deckard adds as he pours himself a cup of coffee from the cart and gestures to the leather armchair where a couple of bags doning logos of luxury brands are perched.

You make your way to the packages, and open the first one to reveal a sophisticated dress, fitted and sexy, but not too much that it would be inappropriate as office wear. The second bag is a thoughtful selection of high end make-up products. And the last one contains a gorgeous set of lacy lingerie, nothing too raunchy but sexy nonetheless. Of course everything is in the right size.

"Thank you..." you whisper, a little stunned. The assortment must have cost him a couple grands at the very least - not that he can't afford it because you're well placed to be sure he can, but still, he did not have to do this.

You have to suppress a smile, because damn he's being annoyingly perfect once more, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction to reveal he was right when promising you could stay the night instead of going home and still look fresh for your day at work.

"I was thinking, I'm free tonight, so maybe we can finally review those documents, you know the ones you were supposed to show me before you jumped on me on the couch last night?" Deckard states as he bites in an apple in front of the window, casually looking at lake Geneva glinting in the bright morning sun.

You blush unwillingly, struggling to find a reply that would save you from admitting you had failed at enforcing your usual work ethic.

"I'm kidding dear!" He barks in a laugh. "I know enough to trust you on this venture, you have my approval to go on with the investment." He continues more seriously.

You open your mouth to answer but he's quicker.

"I'm not kidding about being free though, so what about dinner and then we can see where this takes us…"

When you don't answer immediately, he turns to look at you. Maybe he's realizing the situation can be awkward and precarious for you since you're technically working for him.

"You can say no, I won't take any offense." He adds without irony.

"Yes..." You finally answer, tip toeing toward him until you can snatch the apple he was eating from him. He protests but you shush him.

"...Yes, I would like this very much..."

As he starts to protest again, you take a big bite from the fruit with a knowing smile.

"...but only for dinner. Nothing more."

"You'll be the death of me." Deckard says, falsely irritated, his voice dropping lower.

"At least the feeling is mutual, mister Shaw ..."

[secretpeachtea]

Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 8

Title: the oh-no-giri miya

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word Count: 5.5k (but are we really surprised)

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: yeeeeehaw another chatper update! there's a lot going on this chapter, but i just hope everything makes sense. thanks for all the support so far! im thinking this series might come to an end soon, but i will keep you all updated!

Previous///Next

You yawn for the fourth time after clocking into work today and rub your tired eyes. Your exhaustion does not go unnoticed by your boss.

“Long night?” Osamu asks as he finishes restocking the fridge.

“More like long week.” Another yawn threatens to leave your lips and you have to force yourself to stop. “There’s been construction going on near my apartment and the elderly couple next door seems to be having some sort of argument for the past few nights. If they don’t figure their issues out by tomorrow, I’m gonna have to have a talk with my landlord.”

Osamu gives you a sympathetic glance and pats your shoulder. “I hope they do. Can’t have my favorite employee walking around like a zombie every day.”

“I’m your only employee, Osamu-san.”

The man just shrugs his shoulders before giving you a more serious look. “You sure you’ll be okay though? I wouldn't mind if you left early today.”

You waved off his suggestion. “No, I’ll be fine. Plus, we have a lot going on today. I’d rather not leave you to deal with that on your own, especially since the entire team is coming to help out.”

There were only a few weeks before the V. League Championships, so the starting players of MSBY were coming in to volunteer and advertise their big match against the Schweiden Adlers. Atsumu was the one to suggest having this event and his coach seemed to like the idea. It did take a while to convince Osamu to allow anybody to work at his precious restaurant but gave in after his brother promised to wear a giant onigiri costume during the entire event and buy him some Wagyu beef after his next paycheck.

Before Osamu could ask you anything else, the front door to Onigiri Miya was roughly opened and the seven MSBY starting players sauntered inside. Everyone greeted each other briefly and Osamu was just about to get them set up in their spots, but MSBY’s setter had other plans.

Atsumu placed a large bag on top of the counter and took out what looked like picture frames along with a power drill.

Osamu raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing, you scrub?”

“What should’ve been done a long time ago!” Without hesitation, Atsumu approached the wall with all of the autographs from previous customers and began to put up seven other frames. He was clearly still upset about the fact that his brother had autographs of the rival team in his shop, so the blonde decided to take matters into his own hands and hang up signed portraits of himself and his teammates. There were shouts of displeasure from your boss and you’d normally be the mediator between the twins, but you felt too tired at the moment to care.

Meian Shugo, the captain of MSBY, approached the spot next to you and gave you a kind smile. “Hey, (Surname)-san.”

“Hello, Meian-san.” You returned the smile with a small wave.

Your boss wanted to meet up with all the volunteers a week prior to the event in order to teach them what they were responsible for, especially those who were helping with the cooking. Since he had asked you to help out, you were able to meet the three remaining MSBY players for the first time last week as well.

“(Surname)-chan, do you need any help with anything before customers start rolling in?” Inunaki Shion questioned as he skipped over to where you were with his teammate, Adriah Thomas, following behind.

“Actually, we need to set up a few tables outside in case it gets a little packed indoors during the lunch rush. Do you guys mind bringing the tables and chairs outside with me?” You pointed towards the plastic tables that were leaning against the wall.

“Sure thing!” Inunaki briefly translated what you had said to Thomas in English and the latter simply nodded his head in understanding. As Thomas was walking past you to grab one of the tables, he lifted his hands in front of you. You haven’t really been able to speak with him since you weren’t very fluent in English, but he has always tried to be as friendly as possible around everyone and seems to love giving high-fives. You thought his actions were endearing, so you gave him a high-five with an equal amount of enthusiasm.

After grabbing what you needed and stepping outside, you spent a couple minutes directing each of them to where everything was supposed to be set up. Once that was done, you ushered them back inside. “Thanks guys! We’re opening soon, so let me know if you have any questions on what you’ll be doing.”

Unsurprisingly, Atsumu and Osamu were still bickering, but now Atsumu had a large black and white onigiri costume in his arms. “How the hell am I supposed to wear this all day, ‘Samu?”

“Easy. Just put it on and keep it on.” The onigiri chef explained. “Bokuto-san, do you mind helping him put it on?”

“Sure thing, Myaa-san!”

Everyone spent the next few minutes decorating the room with MSBY merchandise or helping Atsumu put on his costume and before you knew it, the first customer had arrived. Multiple voices rang throughout the shop, “Welcome to Onigiri Miya!”

Thankfully, the first couple of hours went by without any issues. You were surprised at how all of the guys were able to adapt to their jobs so quickly.

Normally, the customers take their food from the counter themselves, but for the event, Bokuto and Inunaki served as waiters. They seem to be doing a pretty good job so far and the customers love their amiable personalities.

Atsumu was sent outside to give out fliers and keep watch of the people eating outdoors. He would come back inside every so often to refill on fliers or complain about the onigiri suit, and it usually ended up with him being chased out by Sakusa who was on cleaning duty (“Omi-kun why do you keep hitting me with the broom?!”/”I was told to clean any trash on the ground.”). Sakusa was a bit reluctant to be put strictly on cleaning duty but voiced no complaints when you told him that this job requires the least amount of human interaction.

Hinata and Thomas stayed in the kitchen to assist Osamu with cooking. The three worked quite well together and Hinata would translate anything for Thomas if need be.

You and Meian stood next to each other comfortably. You were doing what you normally did at the register except Meian took over all the phone orders.

Even with fewer responsibilities than usual, waves of exhaustion seeped into your bones throughout the morning. There would be the occasional superfan that would walk in and ask for a picture with all the players while squealing in a pitch that could outmatch a dolphin. Just the thought of it gave you a bigger migraine.

“-san…-rname)-san?...(Surname)-san!”

Your eyes shoot up to Meian who has been calling your name for who knows how long. Apparently, your fatigue was also affecting your reaction time. “Ah! Sorry, Meian-san. Did you need something?”

The tall man eyes you with worry. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a bit tired.” You brush off his concern.

He looks like he wants to say more but is interrupted by Hinata who had popped his head in your periphery. “Hey, (Name)-san. Do you know where Osamu-san keeps the olive oil? He stepped away for a moment to check on something and I can’t find it.”

“Oh, yeah. I can get that for-!”

As you turn around from your spot, your vision blurs and you feel your knees give out from the sudden lightheadedness. There are several alarmed voices around you, but you don’t think you can react fast enough to stop yourself from falling over. You prepare for any pain, but before your head could hit the counter, strong arms wrap around your waist.

“(Name)-san!”

Hinata’s voice is right next to you, so you can assume that he is the one who caught you. The poor man looks like he’s about to call an ambulance in panic, so you place a hand on his forearm to let him know you’re still awake.

It seems like all the noise also caused your boss to rush back from whatever he was doing because his figure is suddenly crouched down in front of you. Without warning, Osamu places a gentle hand on your forehead and you involuntarily blush. “Your face is a little red, but it doesn’t seem like you have a fever. You said you weren’t getting enough sleep lately, right?”

“I-I think I just turned around too fast. I’m fine.” You tap Hinata’s arm to get him to let you go and make the effort to stand up on your own to show that you didn’t need help.

Osamu stood up and crossed his arms, his gaze focused on the dark circles under your eyes. “No, you are not. Go to the back room and take a break.”

“I’m seriously okay. Lunch rush is almost here and I don’t want to make things difficult for the other guys,” you argue back.

Osamu doesn’t seem like he wants to back down either. “Would you rather I tell you to leave early? It’s either take a break now or go home.”

After watching you and Osamu go back and forth, Meian felt the need to intervene. “Don’t worry, (Surname)-san. I’ve been with you all morning, so I have a pretty good idea of what I need to do. We’ve got more than enough hands to help out.”

There’s a brief silence as everyone waits for you to say something. You finally let out a defeated sigh. “Alright. I’ll take a break.”

The guys around you feel the tension leave from their shoulders at your compliance.

“But,” you lift up a finger to get their attention, “you have to call me if there are any issues or if you need help with the register.”

“Got it, got it. Now go, (Name)-san.” Osamu walks around you and places his hands on your shoulders as he pushes you towards the back room.

When the door closed behind you, there was an unfamiliar silence permeating the room. You’ve never taken a break by yourself, so you felt slightly uncomfortable. Deciding to just lay on the small couch at the corner of the room, you looked up at the ceiling not exactly knowing what to do during your ‘break’. You didn’t even realize your eyes started to droop until they were fully closed and you entered a deep sleep.

You stretch your arms as you walk back to the register feeling much more refreshed than you were before and mentally thanked your boss for convincing you to take a break.

There’s a small skip to your step as you get closer to where Meian is, but his strange posture makes you halt. When you look around the counter, there are multiple customers waiting in line and all of them seem to have irritated expressions. Meian has the phone up to his ears and he’s stuttering so much that you can’t even make out what he’s trying to say.

You’re about to reach out to help him, but the front entrance suddenly opens and you can’t help but gape at the sight. Standing in nothing but pants and an apron, Atsumu runs a hand through his blonde locks while sweat runs down his skin. You’re not sure why he’s shirtless or how he got away with taking off the costume, but your focus is once again taken away by another volleyball player.

Bokuto grabs a tray of food that Osamu left out and rushes to one of the tables. In his haste, he accidentally trips over his own feet and everything on the tray is sent flying. Your eyes widen when you witness the owlish man produce an entire front flip in the middle of the tiny restaurant and land it successfully. Although, the food didn’t survive and proceeded to fall right on top of Sakusa’s head with a resounding plop.

“Wow! Bokuto, when did you learn to do that?” Inunaki asks excitedly.

“I’ve been practicing so that I can have a grand entrance at the game!” Bokuto stands proudly, completely oblivious to his seething teammate. Sakusa is absolutely furious and looks like he’s about to blow a fuse.

Atsumu chooses to step in and make an attempt at calming his friend lightheartedly. “Hey, Omi-Omi! You’re overreacting. Just wash it off and call it a day. No need to get so mad at your friend.”

Atsumu’s words only seem to infuriate the dark haired male even more. “Get out of the fucking way, Miya. I don’t need your dumb excuses of friendship. I’m sick and tired of your shit.”

You could almost see the poison being spit out of Sakusa’s mouth as he directed his harsh words at Atsumu. The blonde seemed to have finally snapped as well as he alarmingly lifted one of his fists. Before Atsumu could cause any harm, Osamu grabbed his brother’s arm. You didn’t even notice your boss approach the two.

“‘Tsumu! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Osamu kept a tight grip on Atsumu as he glared. “Stop being an idiot and calm down.”

Atsumu roughly grabbed onto his brother’s collar with both of his hands. “You expect me to stay calm after hearing that? And, calling me an idiot doesn’t help, ‘Samu!”

You’ve finally had enough of being just a bystander, so you quickly ran around the counter and put a hand on each of the twins’ shoulders trying to lightly tug them away from each other. “Guys, you need to stop. Fighting in the middle of the shop is not going to solve anything.”

You knew that your words alone wouldn’t be enough to relieve their anger, but what you didn’t expect was the arm that harshly swung out in your direction, pushing you into the nearest table. If it weren’t for Bokuto and Inunaki steadying your balance, you could’ve been seriously injured.

“Stay out of this, (Name)-san.” Anger seems to have blinded Osamu and he doesn’t look even the least bit guilty for pushing you. “You’re being annoying. I don’t need you.”

If you could describe the way your heart felt after hearing those words, you would compare it to shattering glass. You knew you shouldn’t allow his words to affect you this much, but your emotions had failed you and all you could do was look down with tears in your eyes. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t taken that break.

Unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to want you to even contemplate on your decision when a loud scream was heard from the kitchen area. Everyone in the room watched as Hinata, Thomas, and Meian collectively yelled the one word that could’ve made this situation worse.

“FIRE!!”

Your body aggressively shot up into a sitting position with your arms outstretched as you let out a startled gasp. A bead of sweat ran down your face and you took a second to take some deep breaths. Once you felt like your heart wasn’t going to jump out of your chest, you took in your surroundings.

You were alone in the back room of Onigiri Miya sitting on the same couch that you must have fallen asleep on when you first walked in. There was a thin blanket on top of your body that you don’t remember having before losing consciousness, but you didn’t wait to dwell on it as you tossed it aside and stood up to go back outside.

Throwing the door open, you steeled your nerves at the potential chaos that you might have to confront after your terrible, anxiety-provoking dream. However, the sight in front of you was... completely normal.

Your boss, being the closest one to the door, was the first person to notice your presence and smiled as you walked up to him. “Hey, (Name)-san. How are you feeling?”

“Uh...better? How’s everything out here?” Your eyes shift around the room to see if anything was unusual. “No raging fire or um...missing shirts?”

Osamu looked at you with confusion. “Not that I know of? It was a bit rocky after you left, but after about an hour everyone adjusted pretty well.”

Your shoulders released their tension at the fact that there weren’t any issues in your absence but immediately tensed back up when you realized what Osamu had just implied. “An hour?! How long was I asleep for?”

“Maybe about four hours?”

“Four-!” Almost choking on your words, you pulled out your phone to check the time and it has indeed been four hours since you started your break. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“I came in to check on you after about half an hour, but you seem really tired, and as your boss, I need to make sure you’re not overworked or sick.” Osamu brought up an arm to rub his neck sheepishly. “I know how you feel about me being concerned about your health, but I’d rather have you upset at me than risk you ending up in a hospital.”

A pout makes its way onto your face. How were you supposed to be upset if he gave you a reasoning like that?

Taking your silence as a sign to keep talking, Osamu brings his arm down and places his hand on your head comfortingly. “We’re not closing just yet, so you can still help out. I know you don’t like missing out on work, so there’s still some things to get done, if you’re good with that?”

You nod your head eagerly. “Yeah, sounds good. I’ll try to make up for what I missed.”

When you returned to the register, some of the MSBY players welcomed you back happily. Hinata and Meian gave you worried looks but felt reassured when you gave them a cheerful thumbs up. The only person you haven’t seen in a while was Atsumu, so you assumed he was still working outside.

Since holding the MSBY event for an entire normal work day might tire out the players, Osamu had planned to close earlier than usual, which meant that there was only about an hour left before closing. You tried your best to do as much as you could during that hour, even checking up on everyone every once in a while.

Ten minutes before closing, a woman walked in with two young boys by her side. You could make the assumption that they might be twins based on the uncanny similarities between them. Although, one of them seemed much more outgoing than the other based on their mannerisms and the two reminded you of another set of twins. The kids must’ve been playing outdoors before walking in since their hands were covered in dirt.

The mother lightly pushed her sons towards the back of the room. “Why don’t you two go wash your hands in the bathroom, while I order the food?”

“Okay!” The more extroverted twin answered back and ran towards the bathroom after grabbing his brother’s hand.

The woman asks for a to-go order and strikes up a conversation with Bokuto and Inunaki while she waits. After a couple of minutes, there are strange noises and laughter coming from the bathroom. When you looked up, the mother was still standing with the two men, so her sons must still be in the bathroom.

Tapping Meian on the shoulder, you point to the back when he has his attention on you. “Meian-san, could you watch the register real quick? I’m gonna go check what’s going on in the bathroom.”

He gives you a slight nod and you make your way to where all the noise is. The bathroom door is slightly ajar and when you peek in, you see the two boys standing in front of the sink blowing bubbles with their fingers. There was soap and water everywhere. You silently thank the universe for not having you on cleaning duty today.

Not wanting to startle the children, you knock on the door before opening it all the way. You expected the boys to be terrified at getting caught, but when they make eye contact with you over the mirror, their grins widen.

“Pretty cashier lady! Look what I can do!”

The talkative twin plunged his hand in the sink and viciously started blowing bubbles everywhere after taking his hand out. The quieter of the two started running around to avoid getting hit by the bubbles, but miscalculated how slippery the floor had gotten from all the soap and water.

“AH!”

As soon as you saw the boy’s feet slip from under him, you rushed forward and caught him with your own body, saving him from potentially breaking his nose. “Are you okay?”

The young boy turned red at the close proximity and shyly nodded his head while avoiding your eyes.

The ruckus had caused a couple people to check up on what was going on and were surprised to see the state of the bathroom as well as the boy that was tightly gripping onto your shirt. The boys’ mother was also part of the group as she had realized that her sons were taking quite a long time to simply wash their hands.

Rest assured, you explained what had happened and the woman scolded her children before making them apologize for causing such a disruption. The boy you had saved from slipping kept shifting his body weight from one foot to another when a sudden idea popped into his head. He quickly ran out of his mother’s hold and slid open the front door to go outside.

Before anyone could run after him, the boy came back inside just as quickly with a small white flower in his hand. He shuffled over to stand in front of you and held out the flower. “I’m sorry.”

You thought your heart would burst at the cute gesture and knelt down to gladly accept the flower with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

All of the guys around were watching the scene with a smile of their own. Someone quietly leaned over to an unsuspecting Osamu and whispered into his ear, “You’ve got some tough competition, Myaa-san.”

“Bokuto-san?!”

With that, the mother left with her sons after grabbing their food and the day was officially over. All of the MSBY players, excluding Sakusa and Atsumu, sat down at a table together to take a quick break before getting back up to clean. Sakusa begrudgingly went to get rid of the mess in the bathroom and Atsumu was still nowhere to be seen, but no one really seemed to notice at the moment.

Even though you were out cold for a couple hours, it still felt like an hectic day.

“Looks like you just can't get away from ruining your uniform, huh.”

Turning to the side, Osamu walks up to where you are and a smirk is plastered onto his features. True to his words, your uniform was once again soaked with water, but this time, there are remnants of soap as well.

You let out a sigh. “It seems so.”

Osamu nervously looks to the side and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Do you, uh, need something to cover up?”

“Nah, it’s all good. I actually brought an extra uniform shirt just in case anything happened during the event today. Luckily, I thought ahead!” You mentally pat yourself on the back.

“Yeah...lucky.”

“I’m gonna go change in the back room now. I’ll come out to help with cleaning afterwards!” You don’t wait to hear a response and disappear into the back room for the second time today.

At the same time, the entrance slides open and Atsumu, still in his onigiri costume, strolls into the shop. There’s an empty bag of chips hanging loosely from his hands, which he throws away to the nearest trash can.

“Atsumu-san! Where have you been?” Hinata stands up from his chair to walk up to the blonde in curiosity. “And, where did you get those chips?”

“There weren’t any customers outside and I wanted a snack so I went to the nearby convenience store,” Atsumu replies.

Osamu scoffs. “You skipped out on work and went to the convenience store in that?”

“Everyone and their moms in the next 10 mile radius has seen me in this, so what’s the point of getting embarrassed over wearing this down the block?” Atsumu attempts to shrug his shoulders but the suit is too large to make it obvious. “We’re done right? I wanna get out of this thing as soon as possible. You left my shirt in the back, right Shoyo-kun?”

Atsumu began speed walking towards the back room to change and Hinata realized a second too late that his teammate had no idea that you were still inside. The younger male jumped in place and tried to stop Atsumu. “Atsumu-san, wait! Don’t-!”

Unfortunately, Atsumu’s ears didn’t register what Hinata was trying to say in time and he swung open the door. He froze completely when he saw the bare skin of your back before sliding up his gaze to lock eyes with you. You were in the middle of putting on your extra uniform but froze in shock from the sudden entry with only your arms through the shirt, leaving the top half of your body only clad in a bra.

Hinata, who was only able to grab onto his teammate’s arm a second too late, also had a clear view. To make the situation even worse, Sakusa had just finished cleaning the bathroom and had walked out at the same time of the fiasco making him the third person to see you shirtless.

All four of you stare at one another for a second before you snap out of it. A menacing aura seeps out of your figure as your expression darkens. “Close the door.”

“SHIT! SORRY!” Atsumu regains function in his limbs at your tone and slams the door shut.

Hinata covers his fiery cheeks and squeezes his eyes shut but then immediately opens them when the image of you becomes too clear in his mind. He’s muttering incoherent apologies under his breath as if you could sense his remorse through the walls. Sakusa looks down at his mop and remains silent, his own cheeks tinted pink under his face mask.

“What the fuck did you do, Atsumu?”

Atsumu flinches at the coldness of Osamu’s words from behind him. He slowly turns around and meets his brother’s gaze. Osamu was mad.

Not even a second later Osamu’s kicking around Atsumu across the floor in anger. Atsumu opted to pull his arms and legs inside the suit to avoid any injuries. Hinata and Sakusa can only watch from the side. Out of curiosity, even Bokuto joined in on spectating. If this was any other situation, one might even laugh at the somewhat comical sight.

You step out of the back room a minute later fully dressed. No one has noticed you yet, so you just make your way to where the three less problematic MSBY players were sitting. They all watch you with mixed expressions as you sit down on one of the chairs wearily.

“You just can’t seem to catch a break. You good?” Inunaki peers at you with sympathy in his eyes. Thomas lifts up a hand for you to take and gives you a comforting squeeze before letting go.

“Yeah. I’m fine, really. Can’t even say I’m surprised that nothing seems to be calm when I’m around all you volleyball players. I’ve already gotten used to it, though.” You sigh exasperatedly but you can’t stop the small upward curve of your lips as you glance behind you at the chaos.

Meian chuckles. “You know, you’re pretty good at handling their shenanigans. Even with all the work you did today, you still made time to check on everyone. I’d say you’ve got some good managing skills.”

You give Meian a grateful smile at his kind words. He then seems lost in thought for a moment before beaming at you. “Hey, we have a manager position that’s open right now. Would you consider working along with all of us?”

The suggestion caught you completely off guard. You working with MSBY? You can’t deny that the idea makes you curious.

As you open your mouth to respond, an arm is suddenly slung over your shoulders silencing you.

“Sorry, Meian-san. She’s too good of a worker to give up.” At some point, your boss had gotten behind you and eavesdropped on your conversation. He tugs your body a bit closer to his own possessively and looks at Meian straight in the eye. “She’s mine.”

You’re surprised how you haven’t ended up in the hospital with how many times your heart has gone out of control in the last 8 hours. Except this time, a blush accompanies your irregular heart rate.

To save yourself from any potential embarrassment, you shrug off Osamu and cross your arms. “Um, no. I don’t belong to anyone.”

A flash of anxiety runs across Osamu’s eyes. He worries that he might have offended you or pushed you to take Meian’s offer.

Ignoring your boss, you send a small apologetic smile to the older man.” Sorry, Meian-san. I’m pretty happy working here, and I don’t know if I can really commit to a manager position at this time. Thanks for considering me though!”

“No worries, (Surname)-san. Feel free to let us know if you ever do change your mind.” The captain nods his head in understanding and accepts the rejection coolly.

A pained groan echoes through the shop and you turn to the noise. Atsumu is still on the ground looking absolutely drained of energy while Bokuto pokes at his costume with a single metal chopstick. Hinata and Sakusa are still in the same spot from before and make no effort to help Atsumu up.

Meian claps his hands once next to you and his chair screeches against the floor as he stands. “Alright, guys! Break’s over! Our job isn’t done just yet. Let’s get to cleaning!”

Leftovers

You’re just about ready to pass out as you lay in your bed with the lights off. Despite the four hour nap you had today, you still feel drowsy and can’t wait to get some sleep. Luckily, the neighbors seem to have calmed down for the night, so sleep should come easily. As you feel your consciousness slipping from you, you’re suddenly jolted awake by the shrill ringtone of your phone.

Letting out an annoyed groan, you pick up your phone to check who would be calling you so late. However, your irritation dissipates as soon as you read Shirabu’s name on the screen. He isn’t the type of person to call for no reason, so you immediately answer with a bit of a concerned tone, “Hey, Shirabu-san! What’s up?”

“Hello, (Surname)-san. Sorry for calling you so late. My shift just ended and I came across some information you might be interested in.” His words catch you by surprise and you force your body to sit up. “I just spoke to a colleague of mine and they informed me that there’s a program you might be interested in. They’re accepting new applicants at her university.”

“What?! That’s great! Could you tell me more about it?” It’s difficult to keep your voice down with all your anticipation.

Shirabu relays all of the information that his colleague had told him and you quickly shuffle over to your desk and turn on your mini lamp to write down both the website and email needed for the application. He stays silent as you finish writing down everything. You’re about to thank your friend, but he speaks up once again. “Oh, but I think it would be good to mention that the application is due in two days.”

You let out a panicked gasp. Two days?!

“Sorry about letting you know so late. I only found out about this today.” Shirabu’s tone is uncharacteristically apologetic, so you know he’s being genuine about his words. “I wouldn’t have told you about it, if I didn’t think you were capable of finishing it on time.”

After taking a deep breath, your face breaks out into a small smile at Shirabu’s blunt display of kindness. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I really do appreciate you even letting me know about this at all. Thanks, Shirabu-san.”

Your ears pick up a car door slam, so you assume Shirabu must have gotten in his car to go home. After some shuffling, Shirabu responds back to your gratitude. “No problem. I’m going to assume that you’ll probably want to get started on your application as soon as possible, so I’ll hang up now. Good luck with everything and let me know if you have any other questions.”

Once you’ve both said your goodbyes, the line goes silent. A spark lights in your eyes and all of your previous drowsiness has disappeared. You turn on your laptop and spend the majority of your night working on the application with motivation that you haven’t had in a while.

A/N: it took everything in my soul to not write ‘Inumaki’ instead of Inunaki. Inumaki supremacy (i love me my onigiri boys).

did i write the scene with the baby twins just for the whole scandalous back room exchange. yes. yes i did.

if the bubble blowing bathroom scene reminded you of that one scene in the spongebob movie, you’re on the VIP list

taglist: @kiyoo-omi, @tris-does-stuff, @livshotel, @bokuatsubro, @akkeyomi, @kaleidoscopekai @hirugachan

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 7]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; camshow, fingering, daddy!kink, dirty talk, ‘cuz you can touch touch me~ 😏 ur gonna need to imagine headband/bandana wearing left&right cheol for this cuz that’s the fantasy i was imagining for this chapter the entire time i was writing it hehe 🍒 quick apologies to anyone who thinks this is moving a little slow 😩 I literally don’t know how to shut up and I end up writing too much LMAO and as always, thank you for the continued interest! Have a great weekend bbys! 💕 

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - ?

dom.cheol has donated $400

therealchan99: yea this is about right on course

dom.cheol: what, did u miss me? 😏

gentleman_josh95: loosely

chwenon: more like the obscenely large donations were missing lolol

You jokingly roll your eyes, exhaling deeply as you push your toys off to the side of the bed. You’d just finished your Saturday show without a hitch, albeit feeling a little lonely. “Aww, c’mon you guys! Don’t tease~” Glancing around the room, it did feel a little odd to you now that Seungcheol wasn’t there but he had called earlier in the day and told you that it might’ve been better if he stayed back.

In truth, you understood exactly how he felt.

Part of you was ready to throw all caution out of the window when it came to Seungcheol and he felt it too. But at the same time, you knew it wouldn’t be that easy and that there were still things that the two of you needed to discuss before deep diving into intimacy, especially when it came to powerplay.

kitty_junjun: hey dont take this in a weird way but like

kitty_junjun: i feel like i saw u earlier today…

universe_WZ: ooo i never thought abt that before

sleepy_wonu has donated $75

xcaliburDK: have ppl recognized u irl before? :o

dom.cheol: i feel like i might’ve seen u irl before too…

Your cheeks bloom a hot pink; a nervous giggle on your lips. “Oh! I mean, yeah, there’s been a handful of times. I’ll wear wigs out sometimes though. Can’t have people calling me out in a grocery store, y’know?”

kitty_junjun: wait so maybe i did see u? I dont wanna give out locations tho…

“Maybe! I’m still out on my little weekend trip and I was out and about earlier~ if you see me next time, don’t hesitate to say hi! I promise I don’t bite~” You pause, leaning closer into the webcam as you wink.

“Unless you want me to~”

You start running a bath right after you end your show, stretching and turning on some music as you start to unwind. Thankfully you didn’t have a tiring show today, so you decided to take the rest of the night to pamper yourself in preparation for your day with Seungcheol.

Biting your lip, you pick up your phone, already seeing a multitude of messages from Seungcheol on your lockscreen.

cheollie ✨: don’t forget ur glass of water!

cheollie ✨: also don’t forget i’m picking you up at 9:30am

cheollie ✨: hope ur ready to spend all day at the roller rink with me baby

You can’t help but grin, already excited to see how Seungcheol spent his day at work. Typing a response, you quickly hit send before setting your phone down onto the nightstand and making your way to the bathroom.

‘I can’t wait! I’m so excited~ u promised me free skates and free food so don’t forget!!’

It’s exactly 9:29AM when Seungcheol messages you that he’s downstairs.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing down your dress and hair and grabbing your bag before you rush down to meet Seungcheol. 

There’s a mild feeling of nervousness that pours over you, but you quickly shake it off once you see his blue headed figure standing outside of the lobby.

“‘Cheollie!”

He turns around to face you just as you stop in your tracks; gasping when you see the cute way he’s styled his hair for today. “Whoa… wow, uh, j-just.. Wow. You look great in bandanas...”

Seungcheol laughs, eyes forming crescents. “I don’t usually work the weekends so I thought I’d spice it up a little. Guess it looks good?” You can only nod shakily, mentally cursing yourself when you feel the arousal already pooling inside your body. He winks at you once, opening the passenger’s side door as you slide into his car.

“Hope you’re ready to have a boring day at the roller rink with me.” He gives you a tight lipped smile, shutting your door before he rounds the car to get in on the driver’s side.

“I’m telling you, it’s not going to be… y’know, anything crazy.”

“Who says it has to be! I’m excited to see where you work and anyway you promised!” You tease, poking him in the arm as he starts the car. “I know, I know… I just---I don’t want you to be disappointed. I bet you thought I was some rich old hotshot before, huh?” Seungcheol shoots you a glance, smiling gently.

“Mmm.. not really.”

“No? You didn’t think I was some lonely CEO with loads of money with a thing for camgirls?”

You laugh at his response, placing your hand over his on the gear shift.

“Nah, if there’s anything I thought about you, it was that you were way too nice to be on some camming website.”

The two of you have idle conversation as Seungcheol takes his time to drive to the roller rink. In all honesty, he was a little nervous himself, although he’d never say it to your face.

“Oh my god, is that it?! It’s so cute!”

He parks close to the entrance, turning the car off as he jogs over to your side to help you out. “‘Cheol, you know you don’t have to be so sweet~” You pout, latching onto his arm as he locks the car.

“Oh but I do. You deserve to be spoiled once in a while!”

A blush coats your cheeks yet again, shy eyes fixated on the floor as he walks you towards the entrance. “Yeah, but all you ever do is spoil me… That sybian was no joke and my god, Seungcheol, the price! I almost had half a mind to return it…” You end in a mumble. Seungcheol laughs, opening the door for you as you unlatch from his arm and step in first.

“You’re worth spoiling. Now stop worrying, okay? I promise I’m not up to anything illegal in order to afford your gifts.” Giggling, you lean up to kiss him on the cheek, nodding firmly.

“Fiiiiine, I trust you, y’know?”

“I know, baby. I trust you too, now let’s go meet my best friend who’s going to play butler for you today.”

He leads you over to the concession stand where an equally tall yet bored male stands. “Hey, Jeongguk!” The said male looks up from his phone, eyebrow quirking when the two of you walk up. “Uh, hey Seungcheol-hyung…” Seungcheol feels a weird tenseness fall over the three of you, clearing his throat to get Jeongguk’s attention when he finds the younger male staring.

“Um, this is my friend. She’s---uh, she’s gonna be hanging out here for the rest of the day. I promised her that you’d give her free food, so uh, just--just let me know how much it is so I can tell Namjoon to take it out of my paycheck.” Jeongguk grins, a sly look in his eyes when he finally meets Seungcheol’s concerned eyes.

“Sure! Can I talk to you over there? It’s about our paychecks actually.” Jeongguk turns to you, leaning over the counter. “Sorry, employee only info, ch--uuuuuh, you know the deal.”

“Yeah, of course!”

Jeongguk points off to the side, gesturing to Seungcheol who follows suit.

The younger male makes sure they’re a safe distance away, watching as you pluck your phone out of your purse before he starts talking in harsh whispers. “What the fuck, dude!? You’re---no, you’re not fucking Cherry. She doesn’t have a boyfriend so what the fuck?”

The blood drains from Seungcheol’s face; the feeling in his fingers going numb as his throat goes dry. “Wuh--what? What are you---what are you talking about?” Jeongguk scoffs, eyes rolling jokingly.

“So, hyung, how do you know her?”

“You’re asking me?! How do you know her!?” Seungcheol’s eye twitches just as Jeongguk shoots him an incredulous look, arms crossed in mock annoyance. “I’m a horny boy, what can I say.”

“Please do not ever use those words to describe yourself again.”

The younger male stands in silence, nodding in thought.  

“Fuck, wow, I should’ve noticed. All those extra shifts you were taking, the reason why you could never come hang… You don’t like working here as much as Yoongi-hyung but you--holy---holy shit, wait--you… you can’t be…”

Fuck, here it comes.

“You’re fucking ‘dom.cheol’ aren’t you? You’re the one always leaving her insane fuckin’ donations all the time… and the gifts.. Oh my god. The ‘cheol’ was from Seungcheol, I should’ve known...”

Seungcheol dies a million deaths inside his head; the ringing in his ears becoming unbearable while Jeongguk stares at him in mild disbelief. “It all clocks out, holy fuck. No wonder you were so fucking eager to pick up so many extra shifts…” Seungcheol’s mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure what to say.

“I mean, fuck hyung, I--I’m kind of impressed but wow. You think you know a guy, huh?” Jeongguk laughs, patting the older male on the shoulder. “She’s only one of the hottest camgirls out there right now. You’re a lucky man, hyung.”

A weird possessiveness washes over Seungcheol, hands gently balling up into fists at his side. “Okay, well, she… she’s just here to chill, alright? Don’t do anything weird. And most of all, don’t say anything weird either.” The younger male nods, already walking back to where you were standing.

“Hey, sorry, hyung’s paycheck is gonna be pretty sad next week and I had to let him down gently. Anyway, I’m Jeongguk. You are?”

You give him a fake name; shaking his hand over the counter as he grins at you.

“It’s my pleasure.”

You spend the first two hours on the floor skating; catching Seungcheol’s eyes on you from time to time as he sits nearby cleaning skates. The place seemed pretty empty, which was something that Seungcheol was immensely glad for.

Eventually you skate off out of the rink, making your way to Seungcheol who smiles at you when you come sit next to him. “Told you. Bored already, huh?” The two of you share a laugh, watching as the few other people continue to skate around the rink.

“I mean… it’s different! Right about now I’d usually be six episodes into a new series or something… It’s nice to be somewhere else and doing something different.”

He nods in return, slightly pouting when he turns to face you. “I hate that you have to go home tonight.” You mirror his sentiments, lips quirking into a sad smile.

“I know… I don’t wanna go home…”

Seungcheol bites the inside of his cheek, eyes flitting over to Jeongguk. “Hey, maybe we can bail a little early. This place is pretty dead anyway, and I--I can have Jeongguk clock me out when he leaves. My shift is supposed to end at 3PM and it’s noon now so… We can leave in a hour? Maybe get a late lunch?”

“Seungcheol… I don’t want you to get in trouble…” You mumble, brows furrowing in concern. “Really, it’s okay! We can just hang here ‘til then and still have time to get dinner!” He sighs, knowing you were right. Now was not the right time to be testing the waters with Jeongguk and Namjoon.

“Okay, okay, you win, baby.”

It takes 45 minutes.

45 minutes and a free drink from the concession stand before your mind starts wandering.

You watch Seungcheol converse with Jeongguk behind the concession stand; his cute laugh sending you into orbit when your eyes meet and you can’t stop the thrums of lust pouring over your body when a certain idea pops into your head.

Seungcheol turns his attention back to the younger male and you quickly start to unlace your skates and put your normal shoes back on before Seungcheol’s entire break gets taken up. 

You walk up to the two; Seungcheol cleaning off his hands before he exits from behind the counter.

“Seungcheol…” You softly call out; a look of concern crossing his features when he stops in front of you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, mmhmm! I just--I need to talk to you, if that’s okay?” Jeongguk already turns to leave, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You drag Seungcheol away, tugging him towards an even emptier part of the roller rink as the concern builds up inside of him. “I have an idea.” He feels himself gulp, already anticipating what you have to say.

“And…?”

“Well… It’s… It won’t t-take long I don’t think, just… hear me out?” You question gently, head tilting cutely up at Seungcheol who already knows he can’t say no to you. “Okay, shoot.”

“Wh--what if we… film a small POV v-video… like, not a live one! Just a small upload on my channel to test the waters maybe? I just---you don’t have to say anything and--and it’ll be quick, and--and like, nothing major just a little, um, f-fingering and--oh my god, sorry, I shouldn’t have a-asked, that’s just---I’m s-sorry I was thinking about it and it kinda got to me and I’m---I’m kinda already wet just thinking about it and--”

“No, let’s… let’s do it. To be fair, people seem to like risqué public things like that right?” A crimson blush falls on Seungcheol’s cheeks as he turns the tables, wrapping a hand around your wrist as he walks you to the employee restroom. “It’s… there shouldn’t be anyone in here so we should be safe.” He mutters, checking to make sure before he ushers you inside and locks the door behind him.

“I don’t know what to do so you’ll have to guide me a little here, baby.”

You nod, pulling your phone out and opening the camera app. Scrolling, you put it in video mode, clicking the red button before passing it to Seungcheol. “I’ve never done it either but I’m sure I can just… crop it and I m-mean it’s meant to be a little shoddy, right?” You giggle nervously, body already on fire when Seungcheol makes the camera face you. “You don’t have to say anything if you’re not comfortable with your voice being in the video, I just need… this.”

You reach for his free hand, playing with it as you run your fingertips across the veins. “I’m sorry, daddy… I just… I couldn’t help but think about your fingers inside my tight pussy...” Seungcheol almost loses his grip on your phone; palm clammy when he watches as you bring his hand underneath your short dress.

“Please… please, won’t daddy fuck me with his fingers? I promise I’ll be good for the rest of the day if he lets me cum on his fingers…” You whine.

Seungcheol isn’t ready to have his voice heard yet, so he nods, fingers twitching in your hold.

You take this as an okay to continue, dragging his hand up until his knuckles graze your panties. “O-oh, fuck…”

This time Seungcheol takes the lead; his own body ablaze when he can already feel your wetness soaking through your panties. He presses into it, digging his fingers into the wet material until it sticks to you like a second skin. “D-daddy, please, please, put them inside, I need it!!” You mewl, trying to keep your voice down as much as possible while still being audible enough on camera.

He shoots you a look; one that tells you to hike your dress up until your soaking panties are seen through the camera lens. And you easily follow, holding your dress up as Seungcheol drops to his knees, angling the camera upwards until only his fingers and your clothed pussy are in view. You spread your legs a little more, back resting on the wall behind you.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer…”

He gulps once, saying a prayer before he slowly pushes your panties to the side. And you all but lose any semblance of sanity the second he runs his fingertips through your wetness, pussy clenching around emptiness. “Fuck--fuck me, please!”

Once Seungcheol deems his fingers wet enough, his eyes meet yours, asking for silent consent before he makes any further moves. You nod frantically, fingers gripping the material of your dress tightly.

Seungcheol bites his lip the second he starts sinking his first finger into your tight warmth; already feeling the drool pooling in his mouth when you moan loudly. He starts a slow pace, mentally noting just how obscenely wet you are when he drags his finger out slowly. “Ngh, daddy m-more, please, I can take it, I wanna be f-full~” He gives it a few more thrusts of his index finger before he adds his middle finger; this time slowly sinking both digits into your pussy as you whimper above him.

His eyes flit up, mesmerized when he sees your face contort in bliss. “O-oh my god, I’m--I’m already so close… Daddy’s fingers are so much bigger and thicker than mine, it fuh--feels so good…” You mutter; squirming when Seungcheol doesn’t move.

And it takes him a second; too fixated on the way your tight walls only seem to suck his fingers in deeper.

But he starts a moderate pace, scissoring and curling his fingers inside of you until you’re reduced to whines and soft breathy moans.

He can already feel you getting tighter around his fingers after a few more minutes; doubling his pace when you start to beg.

“Oh my god, oh my god, ‘m so close, fuck! P-please touch my clit, daddy, please make m-me c--cum!”

Seungcheol feels his cock throbbing in his pants but he focuses on you, thumb immediately on your clit as he rubs harsh and quick circles on the swollen nub. He doesn’t know how much time has passed or if his break is over, but the look of absolute pleasure on your face is enough to make him not care.

He curls his fingers into your g-spot, holding them still as he continuously rubs your clit until you’re cumming; thighs shaking as you let out shaky breaths above him.

“Oh m-my god, daddy!” You mumble in a hurried frenzy, thighs clamping around his hand between your legs as the pleasure washes over you.

Seungcheol lets you ride out your high, gently wiggling his fingers inside of you as he starts to slow down.

“Mmh… Seungcheol…”

Oh fuck.

He definitely liked it when you moaned his name. 

“Y-yes…?” It’s his cue to turn off the camera, shaky finger pressing the ‘stop’ button. He gently slides his fingers out of you, muttering an apology when you wince.

“You don’t have to say sorry! It’s just… ‘m sensitive…” You mewl, already missing the feeling of his fingers inside of you. “Y-yeah, of course! I, um, I hope that was okay? I’ll give you a second to get cleaned up, I’ll uh, run and get you some water.”

You nod in response, thanking him before he quickly washes off his hands and bolts out of the restroom; ears and cheeks redder than a tomato.

Once you’re alone, you quickly open your camera roll, clicking on the video as you hurriedly crop out the beginning and end, making sure that the short video didn’t have any incriminating details before you open up your camming homepage.

There’s a moment of unsureness that makes you pause. You bite the inside of your cheek, weighing the potential outcomes of posting this to your page. 

But before you can change your mind, you quickly start the upload; adding a title and a short description before you lock your phone to let it process.

In the meantime, you get cleaned up, checking your appearance in the mirror once before picking up your phone again. Unlocking it, you find the upload has finished and you exhale sharply, publishing the video before locking the device again.

You move to exit the restroom, already finding Seungcheol holding a bottle of water on the other side.

“Oh, there you are! Everything okay?”

“Mmhmm! I uploaded the video before I could change my mind so I’m a little nervous…” You trail off, accepting the bottle that Seungcheol passes you.

“Well, the good news is, we’re bailing, now. I told ‘Guk to clock me out so we should get out of here so I can get your mind off of that.”

He shoots you a genuine smile, offering his hand which you take.

“Let’s fuckin’ get some ice cream, I think we deserve it.”

Seungcheol takes you on a scenic drive, taking you to an ice cream shop further away from town.

The two of you sit down in a booth towards the back of the shop and he helps clear your head, talking about various topics to keep your mind off of the huge risk you’d just taken.

“Anyway, that’s one of the reasons why I’m never bar-hopping with ‘Guk again. He’s got no limit, nobody can keep up and nobody wants to keep paying the uber fees.” You laugh as Seungcheol finishes his story, taking a sip of your milkshake.

You can’t help but sigh after a few seconds, pouting at Seungcheol who blinks questioningly at you. “‘Cheollie, I don’t wanna go home…” He stares back, unsure of what to say. A million different thoughts run through his mind in the split second before he opens his mouth.

“Why don’t you stay with me for a couple more days?”

Seungcheol doesn’t understand the gravity of his words until they spill out of his mouth; a panicked look on his face when you go completely silent in the seat across from him. “I m-mean, uh, I mean, like, fuck. I’m sorry, that must’ve been way too out of bounds. I just---it’s just, you don’t want to go home and---and I can take care of you while you’re here! Even if it’s just a couple days. I can help you film too!” He curses himself for rambling; immediately shutting himself up.

“I--I don’t want to bother you, ‘Cheol… That’s really too kind of you…” A shy blush coats your skin; chewing on your bottom lip when you shyly avoid his gaze. “A-and my filming stuff is back home too… I brought a few toys with me so I could film my weekend shows but--but my camera…”

“I can ask Jeongguk!”

You shoot him a bewildered look, brow quirking. “He--he streams sometimes too, like, video games ‘n shit. He actually offered me his extra equipment a while back, if I ever wanted to get into it myself. I can ask to borrow it, if you want?”

You drink in his words, unsure. The thought of staying with Cheol might’ve danced across your mind a handful of times, but now that the offer was on the table, you weren’t sure how to respond.

You trusted Seungcheol, and you knew by now that he would never do anything to hurt or betray you. But this was a far leap from how things were the last time you’d seen him.

“Listen, I can see the cogs in your head turning, baby. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I’m not forcing your hand into anything you don’t want. But I know you’ve been wanting to get out a ‘lil more and… well, in truth, I think it’d be nice for both of us? I can take care of you while you’re here with me and we can keep each other company.” He pauses, smiling at you from across the booth. “But I can also take you back to your hotel room and let you pack so you don’t get home too late.”

“‘Cheol I trust you.. It’s just that… I’m s-scared…”

“Scared? Of what, baby?”

The warmth blooms inside of you; shy eyes meeting his.

“Scared that I’m not gonna wanna go home…���

Seungcheol takes it easy for the rest of the day and doesn’t make an effort to get an answer out of you. He takes you around the city, tugging you into shops he thinks you’d like and walking around with you aimlessly until the sun goes down.

But time seems to go even faster once he takes you to dinner; a sigh on his lips when he knows he has to bring the topic back up.

“I hate to ask but… I have to take you back to your hotel after this so…” Seungcheol trails off, leaving it open-ended for you.

“I know… I just want to know… Why do you like me so much?”

The question takes Seungcheol by surprise; eyes wide as saucers. “I--I’m sorry I don’t follow?” You chuckle under your breath, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s just… we were strangers, kind of, before Friday, you know what I mean? And now you’re offering your place to me to just… crash at for a few days? What if I rob you blind? Or what--what if you try something with me that I don’t like?” You suddenly start catastrophizing; mind going a mile a minute with potential outcomes.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, wait. Calm down, sweetheart. It’s okay! Breathe!” You let out a shaky exhale, groaning as you hide your face in your palms. “God, ‘Cheol, ‘m sorry, I--I really want to stay with you for a few days. It’s just that my brain is going light speed and I can’t keep up. I really like you too, you’ve been nothing but kind and sweet and you’re so handsome, it’s just so crazy to me...” Your words are slightly muffled but Seungcheol catches it, a soft chuckle on his lips when he leans his head on his palm.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa and leave you alone. You can take the bed. Hell, you can even rob me blind and I’d say thank you.”

He reaches his free hand over, fingers circling your wrist as he pulls your hand down. “And I’m offering you my place because I like you as you. You’re cute and funny, and so fuckin’ humble. And I want to get to know you better. In person, y’know?”

“Y-yeah… I wanna get to know you better too. And it’s only a couple days right?”

“Right.”

Seungcheol drives you back to your hotel, a smile on his face when he sees you in better spirits.

He parks his car in front, turning to face you. “So I’ll just wait here while you grab your things and check out, okay? I’ll contact ‘Guk to see if I can swing by and take that extra equipment he offered.”

This time you nod cheerily, body buzzing with excitement as you hurriedly step out of his car. “I’ll be quick!”

He gives it a moment before he picks his phone up, taking a deep breath before typing out a message to the younger male.

‘Hey, ‘Guk I have a favour. Get back to me asap if u can.’

Jeon 🥴 : bold of u to msg me…

Confusion crosses Seungcheol’s features; fingers hovering over the keyboard. ‘What are you talking about?’

Jeongguk takes a second to send a screenshot, Seungcheol’s cheeks burning a crimson colour when he sees the content.

Jeon 🥴: it’s the employee restroom for me.

Jeon 🥴: bruh it’s also the fuckin way i knew it was u before i even played the video… fuck man is that why u too so long on ur break? u do kno u went over right, I clocked it cuz i was expecting u to come back sooner

Jeon 🥴: for the rec im not mad, actually im impressed just cant believe this is u

Seungcheol ignores Jeongguk’s messages, instead opening the screenshot again and re-reading the video title.

‘I was so needy… 🥺 so I asked daddy to finger me in public…’

Jeon 🥴: bitch i kno ur reading this im dropping the hyung bc u kept this from me!!

Jeon 🥴: after i even offered u my extra camming stuff u were already doing it behind my back…

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at the younger male’s dramatic nature, fingers quickly swiping across the keyboard.

‘Alright, I’m sorry okay? I just didn’t think my online habits needed to be public knowledge and for the record, that was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that. I promise no more secrets, unless absolutely necessary. And also speaking of that extra equipment, can I swing by and grab it from your place?’

Jeon 🥴: r u gonna cam now? u got one sip of the devils juice and now ur all in?

‘Would u stop being dramatic oh my god. It’s not for me, it’s for ‘cherry’. She’s going to be staying with me for a few days and I fully expect you to keep your mouth shut on this.’

Seungcheol grimaces when he calls you by your online handle; already feeling unfamiliar with it.

Jeon 🥴: o i c. sure, u can come pick it up, simp. I’ll make sure she’s got all the necessary things before u get here and u owe me one!! i fully expect u to come stream with me at least once for keeping ur secrets 

‘It’s a deal. I’ll be there in an hour and a half.’

A sigh escapes Seungcheol’s lips, his eyes dancing over to your figure that skips towards the car. He locks his phone just as you tap on the glass, popping the trunk before he steps out.

“How’d it go? All checked out?”

“Mmhmm! Did you get in contact with Jeongguk? What’d he say?”

A nervous laugh spills from his lips as he puts your small luggage in the trunk, slamming it shut before rounding the car to open your door. “I’ll help you get settled in at my place and then I’ll drive over really quick and grab the stuff from his place.”

You hop in his car, fiddling with the seatbelt until Seungcheol slides into the driver’s seat.

“He didn’t ask what you needed it for?” Gulp. Shit.

“I just told him that I was thinking about streaming, for--for gaming stuff. He was okay with it.”

He’d tell you the truth. Soon, he promises.

No. Now.

Seungcheol sighs, hands on the wheel as he stares straight ahead. “No, no, I--I can’t sit here and lie to you. Jeongguk knows you. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier, I told him to keep his mouth shut because I didn’t want him to bother you while we were at the roller rink.”

“I--oh…”

He can only nod; eyes dancing over to you as you play with the hem of your dress. “Yeah, I--I’m really sorry. He--He also found out I was ‘dom.cheol’ too and, fuck, I--I don’t know, I kind of panicked too. I hid that part of me from everyone I know so it was just… it was a lot.”

You meet his sad eyes, shooting him a small smile of your own. “It’s okay! It’s a little funny that happens right after that ‘kitty_junjun’ says he saw me in person too, huh? I mean, thanks for trying to protect me at least. It must’ve been weird for you too.”

“Yeah… If you’re not comfortable anymore, I… I’d understand too.” Seungcheol prepares himself for the worst, knowing that there was a chance that this was goodbye.

“Are you kidding! What’s one person gonna do? And you said he’s your best friend and you trust him… I’ll have to take a leap of faith on that one but… I trust you.”

You lean over the center console, kissing him on the cheek. “And anyway, as long as he’s not one of those weirdos asking for ‘favours’, I think we’re in the clear, right?”

Seungcheol grimaces; as long as it’s from me and not you, he thinks.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Can I request the hostage prompt with whirl,cygate and megatron with a human so

Ohoho I've been waiting to do this one... Hope everyone enjoys some silliness mixed with sweetness!

Part One: You're Here!

Part Two: Here!

Whirl

·You've always had a kind of strength Whirl recognized and admired, it's one of the reasons he fell for you in the first place, but even you aren't sure what exactly gives you the fuel to snap with enough force that it freezes your captor at their active communication station. Maybe you're just tired of being chained up, but their arrogant demeanor is more than likely what pushed you over the edge, specifically with that last taunt at Whirl that used "Cyclops" as the punchline for the millionth time. Swears are beautifully melded into an avalanche of fury that starts with you demanding this lazy idiot think of a better insult for your partner than something involving his looks, because "You think YOU'RE hot shit?! There's corpses in here with more charisma than you!"

·Fear doesn't even register as you keep on tearing apart your captor in every way you can. Nothing is off limits with all the taunting Whirl has been forced to endure on the other end of the communication line, and thus you bring out every below the belt insult you can think of. The bad bot's jaw is slack as you continue, looking to their dazed face and declaring "Not to mention you're dumb enough to go after MY mech, you think a loser like you is gonna stand a chance against WHIRL?! Just last week he tossed a combiner off a bridge because he called me "fleshy", what do you think he's gonna do to YOU?!"

· The communicator is still running when your kidnapper leaves it to try and intimidate you into silence, a move that makes you laugh in exasperated dismissal. "Oh, now you're gonna THREATEN me, really? Did I not make myself clear? You've pissed off the deadliest mech in the universe, and he's got the entirety of the Lost Light helping him search, your next few hours would be a lot better spent deciding how you want what's gonna be left of you interred!" Though you're not even knee height compared to your captor, he actually seems to flinch at your words, especially with you raging so close to his gobsmacked face. The rush of finally shutting him up spurs you to continue your roasting with increasingly petty and crude comments on your partner's significantly superior looks.

·In a stroke of fantastic fortune or misfortune depending on your perspective, a tactical explosion tears into the underground base just as you start to elaborate on Whirl's many other impressive skills. Bots rain in to overwhelm your kidnapper and his automated defenses in a coordinated ambush, one quickly ruined when your absolutely giddy paramour rushes forth without a care to take out the captor in a flying jump kick with a howling battle cry. Rather than eviscerate his now vulnerable enemy, Whirl leaves the crumpled kidnapper where he lies, heedless to the battle still raging all around as his optic sparkles as he beholds you. Like a damsel being swept off their feet you're plucked from your chains and pulled into his careful claws.

·All but gushing with euphoria, he explains that your brilliant distraction tactic gave them the ability to trace your location, and that he heard every word of your spark warming defense on his behalf. You can hear the unhindered adoration in his voice, but you also get a chance to see it as he practically dances through the combat with you held in one arm. By the time your kidnapper is the only one left, he looks lovingly into your eyes and primes his gun with a tender whisper. "Want me to kill this glitch just for you, babe?" The other bots quickly interfere to insist on taking him in for a proper trial, something you're quite alright with as you explain all you really want is to get some rest. Whirl insists on carrying you all the way to bed, whispering sweet nothing's and more or less being the most affectionate anyone has ever seen him.

·Afterwards you're told what it was like on the other end of the communication line. He'd been inconsolable at your kidnapping, and it had taken multiple bots to prevent him from tearing apart the ship as the messages came in. But the moment you'd started shouting? He'd been initially frozen like the rest of them, but had eventually leaned in beside the communicator to listen, his optic getting mistier at every passing curse word yelled on his behalf. Some described his demeanor as that of a lovestruck teen listening to their crush sing a love ballad, though they emphasize his emotional reaction to hearing you was undoubtedly genuine, as it was probably the first time he'd ever been defended so passionately by anyone. The endless doting on you he engages in afterwards leaves you little doubt this is true.

Cygate

·Having two loving partners has always been a blessing, which is probably why you're so easily driven to a blind rage in the face of your captor's endless attempts to mock both of them through the brief communications he sends to the crew, which are also made more unbearable by his ever increasing list of demands for your return. At his latest taunting of their "freakish" romance, you hit your boiling point. The communicator is still running when you lay into the callous bot for having the audacity to insult anyone's choices when he's set himself up in a literal evil lair. "There's body parts just thrown around like confetti in here, and you LIVE like this?! Do you think you get to decide who's weird in this scenario?! At least those two were decent enough to have each other as roommates, you couldn't convince anything living to shack up with your creepy ass!"

·At the total silence you somehow find the fury to keep going, but harder and faster this time, your self restraint little more than a memory as you dangle from the chains keeping you still. "Is it a jealousy thing?! Are you just that peeved off you're single? That you had to steal me to cut them down from three to two? Bad news dumbass; they're STILL beating you on the dating front!" It's not helping your situation, but tearing in to the jerk who's dragged you into a cave and spent so long bullying your partners feels too good for you to stop, especially with the stupid look of indignation and confusion twisting his expression. Not to mention he gives you plenty to rip into even as he tries in vain to make you shut up.

·"You think you scare me?! Do you even know who I'm dating?! Do you think they'll let you get away with this stunt?! One of them can destroy your stupid face with one punch, the other is Cyclonus, and you've gone and pissed them both off!" While it may be a little underwhelming to threaten the guy with what others will do to him, you're hardly in a mood to complain when his expression briefly gives way to one of horrified realization. Yet that hardly calms you down in any significant way. Did he drag you to some nowhere planet and chain you to a wall without even bothering to consider the consequences?! Your back is killing you and the bots have been enduring his incoherent demands for hours, and perhaps you could forgive that if not for all his haughty taunting, which drives you to once again begin raging.

·"Did you even have a plan?! Do you actually have any idea what you're up against, or did you just think you'd swipe a human and earn an easy paycheck? Because if you had even an inkling of what my mechs are capable of, you'd be headed for the nearest space bridge and warping as FAR away from here as physics allow!" While it's a new level of ridiculous, even for your crazy life, the absurdities of the nonexistent plan simply make you see red. It's one thing to be kidnapped by someone who at least has goals, but to be chained up in a cave by some idiot who doesn't have any plans beyond profit and bragging? That'd be enough to tick you off in itself, but the additional insults he's levied at your partners bring your tirade into molten levels of anger that seem absolutely bottomless.

·You're practically red in the eyes when the whole place quakes, and by the time you realize your captor is booking it he's already made it to the door, though his escape ends there when it opens to reveal the bots you've been wanting to see more than anything. A single strike from Cyclonus sends the kidnapper clear across the room, and he's followed by a battle ready Tailgate roaring out his fury as the security systems come on. The chaos of automatic turrets does nothing to distract you from the little blue bot pummeling your captor, and it only makes the arrival of a familiar purple mech that much more heroic as he snaps your chains and pulls you into his arms. The battle is little more than a formality before the barely conscious villain is cuffed and prepared for transport to trial, something your two partners are only willing to allow under the threat of personally hunting him down if he tries to escape justice. Before even leaving the cave you're smushed in the middle of a passionate hug.

·Tailgate alternates between ecstatic buzzing and relieved weeping at your rescue, while Cyclonus never loses a soft smile but keeps finding opportunities to hold and touch you as if he needs to be reassured you're here. It's heartwarming, but according to the rest of the crew it all started at your unplanned radio takeover. No bot had been prepared to hear their favorite human erupt in such unbridled rage, but those two had been shocked in the most wonderful meaning of the word, their expressions reflecting awe like no other until the ship had actually arrived at your location. Cyclonus had actually gone slack jawed while Tailgate had threatened to faint in his arms, but joy had painted their reactions more and more as time had gone on. The tiny powerhouse and the colossal mech out of time were still effusive in their praise every time you three were together, neither having ever known someone could truly love the two of them so completely.

Megatron

·Knowing that Megatron has a sizable target on his back and a lot to be criticized for doesn't make enduring your captor any easier, which is probably why you end up reaching a boiling point after a few hours of listening to the bot who's tied you up try to claim some kind of moral high ground. A tiny human being protective of a titanic gladiator may be illogical, but you can't seem to care when you finally hit your limit, the chains keeping you in place rattling from your sheer force of rage. Because seriously, so long as we're criticizing people for immoral actions, can you cut in about the time some raging jerk tied you up just to taunt another bot and get some cash on the side? Your simple but glaring barb immediately gets the attention of the much larger alien as they stare at you in shock.

·At his bafflement you become entirely unhinged. "Really? What, do you need me to spell out the irony of all this?! You're calling MY MECH a monster, but I don't see him running many evil lairs at the moment, do you?! Kind of rich, you claiming the high ground while I'm literally CHAINED TO THE WALL and our only present company is CORPSES, don't you think?!" The various and still unexplained dead bodies dotting the cave remain as the only audience you know of while the communicator is abandoned, your captor leaving it behind so he can approach and try to growl out some kind of intimidation. It has no effect beyond making you more furious than ever before. Had the chains not been holding you down, you'd have certainly tried to swing at his stupid face while you snapped.

·"Are you trying to scare me? You, a two bit kidnapper who holed himself up in a cave, and I'm supposed to be impressed?! I'm DATING Megatron! One look at a bot that terrifies the galaxy and I decided I wanted a piece of him!" You're almost proud as you declare your undying love for your gigantic partner, something that has earned you a lot of grief from others but has made you happier than you've ever been in your entire life. While you ordinarily don't attempt to argue on his behalf, per his request, it's impossible not to just grill a jerk who thinks he has the high ground to criticize literally anyone. Plus your open and passionate fondness for the former warlord seems to be scaring your captor more than the mech himself ever could, something that brings a devilish twinkle to your eye as you continue to threateningly gush over the bot you adore, if only to pay this jerk back for all the gloating he made said mech endure.

·You're absolutely effusive as you passionately and quite aggressively go on about what a gentlemech you're dating, with ample divertions to the many ways his incredible strength and size are used for much more protective and noble purposes, like holding you close or crushing bad guys. It isn't long before you're spinning a terrifying yarn about the time you were caught in a firefight and he tore a hunk of the wall clean off to shield you from the danger before proceeding to beat the attacking forces with the corpse of their leader. The kidnapper is actually backing away slowly, which turns to backing away quickly as you begin to describe Megatron's romantic poetry skills and how some of his greatest talents lie not on the battlefield but in the bedroom, by which point he's preparing his security systems to cover his escape.

·Perfect timing, from your perspective, makes the sudden explosion of every door a beautiful and inspiring sight. In what has to be the most well coordinated ambush of all time, your friends of the Lost Light storm the cave and annihilate the resistance so fast you only have to blink before a very restrained Megatron is cuffing your petrified kidnapper and tossing him to Magnus so he can be taken into custody. When he turns to you he's actually smiling, and there's a lot behind the expression. Relief, gratitude, exhaustion, and a million other emotions swarm in his optics as the chains keeping you bound crumble like dust in his grip, and you're lifted in his cupped hands like a priceless treasure. Though he's mostly quiet for some time after, you can hear how absolutely smitten he is with you every time he speaks, and the lovestruck look of pure affection never seems to leave his face, which you see often as he appears terrified to lose you.

·A couple of other bots feel compelled to tell you; he was on the warpath when he found you missing, and many had been taking bets on how little would be left of your kidnapper once the former Decepticon got his hands on him. Yet, as soon as he'd overheard you, something about his whole demeanor had changed in an instant. He hadn't just softened, he'd been visibly moved by the passion of your defense and the fire of your love for him. The very idea that he could be defended had been unthinkable in his mind. Yet you'd faced a much larger foe without fear because you'd been so angry on his behalf, what could he possibly have done to deserve such a thing? His gratitude is apparent every moment the two of you spend together, from his rather out of character cuddling to his impressive increase in poems written to describe his adoration of you. Though it isn't at all necessary, you do enjoy having been able to let him know how deeply you cherish him.

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Other Side

Part One

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none

Word Count: 8.7k

What is tachycardia?

Tachycardia: abnormally high heart rate

Causes: exercise, stress, anxiety, fear, anger, or love

Ventricular tachycardia: may be life threatening; please see: “soulmate”

Since I could begin to retain information around the age of four, I have been taught one thing over and over again.

Soulmates = mortal danger.

Granted, I wasn't the only one who was taught this. I wasn’t raised in some strange cult or taught that love was discouraged.

No, actually. It’s just a part of life.

Soulmates are commonplace, my own parents being an example of that. The world we live in is riddled with beautiful contradictions, one of the most prominent of all those lovely contradictions being the existence of soulmates.

There is no fancy system put into place, no timer or thread of fate that ties us together. There’s really no way of knowing who or when or where you’ll meet the person that is supposed to complete you and bring joy to your life.

I’m sure there’s some sort of way that fate decides when, seeing as the majority of people meet at a fairly young age. The number of soulmates that meet over the age of fifty are few; although it’s been known to happen a couple of times among senior citizens placed into nursing homes.

Soulmates are the sole reason that most children can pronounce the word “tachycardia” before they reach the age of seven.

Tachycardia typically isn’t fatal, it’s something people tend to experience quite often when the circumstances change. Out on a run? You’re probably experiencing tachycardia. Terrified that there’s a burglar in the house? Yep, tachycardia coming right up.

Have you just stumbled across your soulmate for the first time? Tachycardia in its most extreme form will hit you like a brick wall in just a second.

“Who can tell me what the first response you should have when you see that someone has made contact with their soulmate?”

A flurry of hands fly up to the sky, my own included. The steps are rushing around in my brain, just begging to be let out.

“Haneul?” I’m called on and fight a smile as I answer my instructor’s question.

“First, move one of them to a separate room. Place a door between them if possible, and then call 911 if there are no soulmate assistants available.”

My instructor nods, smiling warmly at me. “Exactly. Now can somebody go through the calming exercises step by step…”

Somebody nudges my side, and I turn to see my friend and fellow applicant, Yuri, smiling at me.

“You’re totally getting in,” she whispers to me.

I roll my eyes. “Just because I answered one question right?”

“He remembered your name...that definitely means something.”

Turning my attention back to the front before we’re caught whispering, I entertain the idea before kicking it out. It’s best to not think about it too much, I can’t look like I’m bored or not paying attention. This is too important a day to give a bad impression. The sigil on the instructor’s shirt only serves as a reminder.

The Bighit entertainment logo stands out like a beacon as the instructor moves about, calling up a couple of applicants to demonstrate how to properly restrain someone without hurting them.

His movements call attention to the yellow circle below the Bighit logo, the color that marks him as a ‘soulmate assistant’. Basically just a fancy word for someone who has to make sure if an idol accidentally meets a soulmate at a concert or any other event, nobody dies.

Everyone goes home happy. Alive, and newly bonded.

And if I get this job, that means I’ll go home happy and paid. That’s all I could ever want, isn’t it?

If we’re being completely honest, being hired on as a professional soulmate assistant for Bighit or any other big agency would be a dream come true for someone like me. I would get to travel, meet new people, all the while receiving a steady paycheck while attending concerts for free.

Sure, it’s a tough job. It requires constant vigilance; a single yawn at the wrong time could mean disaster. Which is part of the reason why my parents thought I was a bit crazy wanting to go into such a profession. They backed off a little once I showed them what kind of money I’d be in for, though.

All of it has led to this moment: going through one final walkthrough before we’re called in for individual interviews and eventually left to leave things up to fate. It’s a pretty big deal to have even made it this far. The actual interview process with the soulmate board of Bighit entertainment is rigorous, eventually leading to a one on one interview with one of the managers of either TXT or BTS.

Our group that started off with just over 200 applicants has been filed down to ten. Tensions are high, Yuri’s near constant fidgeting is a sure sign of that.

Ten remain, but only two will be hired on. One for BTS, and one for TXT.

Not gonna lie, I’m hoping I’m getting interviewed for TXT. I have a hunch that Yeonjun, Beomgyu and I would get along great.

Not that I’m picking favorites.

Our small overview comes to an end, the instructor getting to the part we’ve all been waiting for.

“If you’ll remain here for a few minutes, we’ll be pulling a few of you in for interviews. Remember, if you don’t get interviewed today that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Don’t overthink it too much.”

The instructor leaves the room, and a collective sigh goes throughout our small group. Yuri is bouncing her knee, keeping her eyes planted on the wall in front of her. All I can do is wait, I suppose.

Life is cruel that way. It’s the same way with soulmates. All there is to do is wait. Live life as if you aren’t waiting for that one heartstopping (or rather, heartstarting), moment in which you come face to face with the person fate has decided will love you better than anyone else on earth.

It would be foolish of me to say that everyday for the past four years I haven’t entered my classes on campus or any restaurant holding my breath in hopes that today would be the day. College campuses are a kind of hotspot for soulmate activity; one of my trainings was actually spent just shadowing different classes and waiting for something to happen. It was my first hands-on training, and it only lasted a week.

In a single week I assisted in four different soulmate placings.

And that was in the middle of midterms; when the odds of meeting your soulmate are fairly low because stress levels are high. People are less likely to mingle with different groups of people, if they even bother to look up from their textbooks at all. So needless to say I was always waiting for it to happen.

Always waiting, never experiencing. It’s safe to say that after I graduated both my parents and I were a bit disappointed. While it’s not necessarily uncommon for people to reach college graduation age without a soulmate, it’s also an instant way to get everyone to pity you.

Sure, I wallowed for a while in self-pity. However, once I set my mind on pursuing a career in soulmate assisting within an idol group, I was an unstoppable force. And as for finding my soulmate? I used the possibility of working for Bighit as another way to make my parents feel better about their lack of a son-in-law.

If I get the job, I’ll be traveling the world. The chances of me meeting my soulmate would surely skyrocket.

“Choi Haneul?”

I jerk out of my stupor to see the instructor waving me over. Yuri gives me a light nudge, smiling at me encouragingly as I make my way over to the door with a pounding heart.

Fun fact: many people panic and think they’re experiencing what are referred to as “soulmate spikes” the second they start to feel a spike in their heart rate. 9.9/10 times they’re wrong. One way to tell if you really are experiencing soulmate spikes (the initial spike in heart rate upon seeing your soulmate) is if you’re also experiencing intense tunnel vision.

The instructor gives me a curt nod, refusing to give anything away. He simply escorts me down the hallway and into a room where someone is looking over some papers.

Sejin, manager of BTS.

Maybe he’ll pass me along to TXT if he thinks I’d vibe better with them? No, I think to myself. There’s no way I’m about to undermine myself.

“Choi Haneul?” Sejin asks me, a light smile on his face as he looks up at me. I nod, unsure of whether or not I should even say anything. “Please, take a seat.”

The instructor closes the door behind him as he leaves, and suddenly I’m alone with someone I never realized could be perceived as intimidating.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Sejin.”

I nod, fighting a sarcastic chuckle. Does he actually think I don’t know who he is, or is he just being polite? “I’m Haneul, thank you for having me.”

Sejin smiles again, looking back down at his papers. “Of course. Now, this probably won’t be a very long interview. Your stats speak for themselves.” He waves the paper in the air, and I see my application form as well as my transcripts from college. “I do just have a few questions for you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.” I put pressure on my legs, reminding myself to keep still.

“Wonderful. First off, how comfortable are you with constantly being in new environments and having to adapt to an idol’s schedule? It’s a rigorous one.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I process the question. “I wouldn’t say that I’m very comfortable at all.”

Sejin’s eyes grow wide, but he proceeds. “And why is that?”

“I wouldn’t want to grow comfortable with it. That would draw away my attention from my job, and my job pretty much depends upon me remaining alert at all times. Now, could I adapt to the schedule? Without a doubt.”

Sejin gives a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. “Huh. Interesting.”

☆

“C’mon, we have to celebrate!” Yuri bounces up and down, practically glowing. “I can’t believe we both got interviewed!”

I smile along with her, still a little giddy. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little premature? It was just an interview, after all. The really important part is if they call you after.”

“Whatever, don’t you want to celebrate with me? I never thought I’d make it past the first week.”

That I can definitely agree with. It’s a competitive field for sure, and the agency does its best to weed out the weak. For good reason, obviously. Nearly half of the applicants the first week in were fangirls hoping they would match up with one of the idols they might work with. And the other half? Those were the ones who quickly realized that they weren’t crazy enough to want a job that required excessive time and effort.

“Alright, where do you want to go?”

Yuri jumps in place making me laugh. Dragging me along behind her, we take the first taxi we can find. The streets of Seoul are filling up now that the evening is coming along. It’s a Friday night; everybody is going to be out and about, celebrating the end of another week.

When we make it to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the two of us have frequented a little too much over the past few months, there’s a fairly large crowd mulling about. We squeeze into a booth after paying for our food, finally able to eat without feeling like I’m going to throw up from the stress.

“Wow, is it just me or does this taste even better now?” Yuri looks up at me with wide eyes and full mouth.

“Is it just me or do you look like a gopher right now?”

If it wasn’t for the piles of food between us I’m sure she would have smacked me. She settles for a quick kick to the shin instead. Hissing at her, she offers me a sweet smile.

“So what’s Sejin like? He’s always seemed like a sweet little teddy bear to me.” Yuri asks before shoving more food into her mouth.

I shrug, thinking back over my interview. The entire thing probably only lasted about 20 minutes, but I think it went well. “He’s nice. Professional, but he honestly wasn’t that grueling. He just said my stats pretty much did all the talking. I think he was just trying to see if I was crazy or not.”

Yuri snorts, nodding along. “Same. Do you think you passed the crazy test?”

“Too soon to tell.”

We delve back into our food, talking more about our interviews. Despite the huge unanswered question hanging between us, did we make it?, the stress from earlier has dissipated. There’s nothing left to do except wait. I feel satisfied with all the work I’ve put in; there’s not a lot more I could’ve done.

It’s the sound of someone’s phone ringing that has us pausing. We look at each other with wide eyes, but there’s no way they’ve already made their decision-

“It’s just my mom,” Yuri sighs out as she brings the phone to her ear. She chats with her mother for a few minutes, reassuring her that everything went well today. I mindlessly push my food around, the sound of Yuri’s ringtone put me on edge for a moment. They definitely won’t call tonight. We just finished!

“What did your mom say?” I ask once she hangs up. Yuri shrugs.

“Just wanted to know if I was interviewed. She said she’s rooting for the both of us, she seemed pretty relieved that we’re not going for the same position.”

That’s right. While I was pulled in for an interview with Sejin, Yuri was pulled in for an interview with TXT’s managers. As far as we’re concerned, we’re now contending for our spots as soulmate assistants to two different groups. And considering that each group is only looking for 1 assistant, it’s pretty competitive. The instructor did say there was a small chance of hiring two per group, just depending on their needs. One of those would only be a part-time assistant though. Definitely not the ideal position.

“Yeah, same here-”

Yuri’s phone lights up again, and this time there is no sigh of relief as she sees who’s calling.

Looking up at me with wide eyes, she looks like she might throw up all the food we just ate. “It’s the agency.”

Gasping aloud, I drop my chopsticks and wave at her to hurry. “Answer it! Quick!” Yuri gives me a terrified look before slowly bringing the phone up to her ear. I chew on my lip as I watch her expression change from terrified to startled.

“R-really? That’s great news!” Yuri bounces up and down in her seat, and I mirror her movement. “Of course! 9am? Sounds perfect...I’ll be there! Thank you so much!”

She drops her phone on the table as she pants. “...so?” I ask her, and she grins up at me.

“I got the job!”

We both scream a little louder than necessary, the people sitting in the both across from us glaring in our direction. “No way! That was so fast!”

She nods, running her hands through her hair. “I know! They just said the decision was easier to make than they expected, seeing as I have the most experience out of the people they interviewed. I’m supposed to head in tomorrow to go over the contract and get to work.”

There’s a little twist of uncertainty in the pit of my stomach as I realize that Yuri was hired within a matter of hours. What does that mean for me?

“That’s amazing, Yuri. I’m so proud of you.”

She shakes her head, unable to stop smiling. “I’ve got to call my mom, should we head out?” I nod, following her out of the restaurant. She’s practically skipping to a taxi, waving it over. I laugh at her behavior.

“I can’t believe it though. Make sure you tell Yeonjun that we’re meant to be best friends.”

Yuri slides into the taxi, and I follow after her. She fixes me with a dazed smile as she gives directions to her apartment. We live in the same complex, so it’s easy to go anywhere with her.

“I’ll be sure to tell him. Who knows, maybe the two of you are soulmates!” Yuri winks at me even as I cringe.

“No way, he’s way too young for me.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuri manages to get one more comment out before her mother answers the phone. “Whatever, you’re only like what? Three years older? Mom! Guess what!”

By the time we make it to our apartments Yuri is still gushing to her mom on the phone. My own parents texted me, I just responded and told them I was interviewed. Their obvious excitement over making the interview fails to buoy me up, though. Not when I’m becoming more and more convinced that I’m not going to be receiving a call tonight.

Perhaps I’ll wake up to a consolation email in the morning, thanking me for my time and sending me on my way.

Yuri invites me over to her apartment to continue in the celebrations, but I opt out of it. She frowns, about to apologize or something but I speak up before she can. I don’t want any apologies; not yet. That makes it seem like it’s really over.

“My parents are begging me to call them and you know how long they can talk for,” I say, backing away. “I’d better go call them now so I can still get to sleep at a decent time. Congrats again, Yuri. You deserve it. Let me know how everything goes tomorrow, ok?”

Yuri nods, still frowning. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“Nope! I’m all good. Good night!”

I wave before turning and heading up the stairs. Yuri lives on the ground floor whereas I live on the third. It’s a small apartment complex, and it’s pretty quiet most of the time. Tonight though, people are celebrating the weekend, and the sounds delve into my ears until I have to screw my eyes shut and press my hands up to my ears.

Leaning against my door the second I close it behind me, I sigh. The thoughts are too loud in my head right now.

What started off as a hopeful day has effectively crashed and burned right before my eyes.

Peaking one eye open I glare at the big world map I have hanging up in my living room. To anyone else it’s just another lovely piece of artwork. Painted on a thin canvas with vibrant greens, blues and purples it draws the eye and fills people with wanderlust.  

For me it represents a dream that is becoming more and more unobtainable.

My best friend from my childhood found her soulmate five years ago. We were freshly graduated from high school, it was perfect. I thought that it was perfect, at least. They were able to finish growing up together, figuring out college and taking time to really fall in love before life became too crazy to hardly eat.

They got married two years ago. It was beautiful and they made it look so easy. They finished up college together and moved to Gwacheon. I haven’t seen her for a year now, we’ve just been naturally growing apart.

She’s always been supportive of me trying to find my soulmate. It’s odd, seeing that I’ve always been the one obsessed with learning about them and preparing for that moment and she’s the one that just happened to stumble upon her soulmate right after she turned 18. But she never made me feel like I was falling behind or at a loss.

Our last phone call reminds me of the entire reason why I bought that gigantic world map in the first place, hanging it where I would see it every time I walked in the door at the end of the day.

“You know Haneul, he’s out there. There’s no question about that.”

“I know...just, where? I’m starting to think that he doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not true. And if it is, I’ll personally slug him for you.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You know what you need to do, Han?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Of course I am. You just have to go out there! Get out in the world, get out of Seoul, and go live your life! The second you get out and start living your life will be when everything falls into place for you. I’m certain of it.”

“I’d love to do that, really. But how on earth do I manage that? I need a stable job, I have an apartment to pay for. I can’t just leave everything to go in search of someone I’ve never met and who maybe isn’t ready to be found.”

“It’s up to you. But I know you, and you’re not happy. I can’t imagine it, I’m not going to pretend to understand. We both know I got lucky...but really Haneul. I know it’s scary and there’s a lot that you don’t know the first thing about, but I just think that if you want to move on from this you have to leave the apartment and get out there. And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

It’s been nearly ten months since that phone call, and it’s been nearly ten months since I became friends with Yuri and found out about the agencies beginning their hiring process. It seemed too good to be true, especially once I found out about the heavy schedule filled with nearly nonstop travelling and meeting people.

I always knew there was a reason I went into the soulmates studies. Finally it seemed like the opportunities were appearing that I so desperately needed.

Ten months. Rigorous training and exhausting schedules that sometimes had me wondering if this really was the right path for me.

But every night, sometimes late enough to see the black sky begin to turn to a hazy gray with the promise of dawn approaching before I even had a chance to sleep, I stumbled home and saw that map.

Somewhere. Every night, I’d see it and chant the word to myself. Somewhere. You’re somewhere out there.

It’s worth it, isn’t it?

Slowly standing up from my position against the door, I glare at my phone as I take it from my pocket. No phone call.

Another glance at the map, the beautiful colors and lines mocking me as it tells me that while he may be somewhere, I am still here. And as long as I remain here, where my soulmate is will be a big question mark.

No phone call. No job. No soulmate.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I make my way to my bedroom. Now would probably be a great time to shower, but I’d much rather just lay here on my bed and stare up at the ceiling as I wallow in self-pity.

“Happy Friday night to me.”

☆

I think it’s on the third ring that I wake up from my slumber, still in my clothes from the day before. Groaning out a few incoherent words, I search my blanket for where my phone is ringing incessantly.

“Who…?”

Finally grasping my phone, I hold it up to my squinting eyes. My mouth drops open of its own accord, my heart rate spiking. Clearing my throat, I attempt to sound like I didn’t just wake up as I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m calling for Choi Haneul?”

My voice gets caught in my throat. “S-speaking.”

“Wonderful. My apologies for calling you so early, I’m manager Sejin, I interviewed you yesterday?”

Straightening out my clothes even though he can’t see them, I nearly scoff at the idea of him having to introduce himself. Like I’d forget.

“Right, no worries. How may I help you?” Slipping into the role of gracious host, I chew on my lip.

Sejin wastes no time getting to the point. “We certainly didn’t expect to come to a decision so quickly, but after reviewing the interviews and applicants, you were a standout Miss Choi. As a representative of Bighit entertainment and manager of BTS, I would like to offer you the position of central soulmate assistant. That is, if you’re still interested.”

I’m practically floating above the floor by the time Sejin finishes speaking. “I- yes! Yes, I would be honored.”

Sejin chuckles lowly. “That’s perfect. Let’s see it’s...6:30 am now? Would you be alright to head in to the company by 9 to go over your contract and meet with the senior soulmate assistant?”

He could have asked me to show up wearing nothing but a garbage bag at 3 in the morning, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Of course, I’ll be there!”

“I’ll send you an email with where to go and further instructions.”

“Thank you!”

Laughing again, Sejin allows me this bit of joy. “Thank you, Miss Choi. I’ll see you shortly.”

I’m nearly panting as I end the call, falling back against my bed and staring up at the ceiling with a mad grin. Then, body bursting with excitement I leap up from the bed and hurdle into the front room.

Hurtling to a stop before my map still hanging on the wall, I call my parents.

☆

“I wonder what it’s liiiiike,” I sing at the top of my lungs as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. Double checking the email from manager Sejin, I decide that it might be best to bring in some backup.

Bringing my phone up to my ear, I wait for Yuri to answer the phone. It’s barely seven in the morning, chances are she’s just getting ready as well.

“Haneul?”

The grin that’s been a permanent resident on my face for the past thirty minutes grows wider. “Yuri! I was wondering, could I carpool with you to the agency?”

It’s silent on the other side while Yuri connects the dots. “What do you mean...wait, shut up! You got it?! You got the job?!”

Yuri screams louder than I did while I was on the phone with my parents, but now I can’t help but scream right back. “YES! I got it! They just called me this morning!”

We’re both a happy mess as Yuri decides to bring her things upstairs to get ready with me. “I already picked out my outfit last night, I’ll just bring it up. Be right there!!” She really doesn’t waste any time, because less than two minutes later I open the door to find a panting Yuri nearly buried beneath her pile of clothes and makeup bags.

“Here, let me take that,” I mutter, laughing as she lets me ease some items of clothing off of her pile. “That was fast.”

“Han!!! I’m so happy for you!” As soon as we dump her stuff on my bed, Yuri pounces on me and begins trying to strangle me like a boa constrictor. “I was so nervous for you, and I didn’t want this to drive us apart. I knew for a fact that you were by far the most qualified, they would’ve been complete idiots to let you go!”

Laughing, I drag the both of us over to the closet. “What are you wearing to this, then? What does ‘casual-nice’ even look like?”

Yuri takes the opportunity to show me her outfit, my jaw dropping as she puts it on and shows it off.

“I was thinking something like this,” Yuri says as she straightens out the sleeves of the sweater she wears beneath the checkered brown dress.

My mouth drops open of its own accord. “Wow.”

Yuri frowns as she goes to look at herself in the mirror. “Is it too much?”

“No,” I shake my head as I delve into my thoughts. “I’m just thinking that you’re going to make everyone in there wish you were their soulmate.”

Cheeks turning a furious red color, Yuri waves off my comment. “Whatever. Let’s find you something to wear.”

In the end I try on four different outfits before settling on one that I think will do the job. It’s certainly more simple than Yuri’s but I find that it’s more functional.

“So pretty,” Yuri coos as she gets ready beside me, the vanity proving to have just enough space for the two of us.

“Me or you?” I question, smirking at her. Yuri grins.

“Both.”

☆

Yuri ends up driving us to the agency, much to my eternal gratitude. Once the time came closer, I began to become more and more nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve started a new job; I’ve been working at the university for the past four years and only quit about a month ago in order to make room for the rigorous training that was a result of making it to the final round of applicants.

I’m grateful for Yuri’s company as she chatters about how excited she is, it’s keeping my mind off of the nerves that are currently tying themselves into a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“I just really think that the boys seem really genuine, you know?” She says, tapping out the beat to the song playing on the radio on the steering wheel. “From everything that I’ve seen and heard about them, they seem really cool. I’m excited to meet them.”

Shaking my head numbly as we slow to a stop before a red light, I try to remember just how badly I wanted this job. “Yeah, they do. I’m jealous, I wanted TXT!”

Yuri cackles as she glances over at me. “You can’t even complain, you’re probably going to be paid way more than me!”

That much is true. While Yuri will still be traveling a lot and certainly have her hands full with the five members, I’m going to be paid more. With the constant traveling, meetings, and seven total members, my job will be nonstop.

Either way, the moral of the story is this: we’re about to make some major money. But there won’t really ever be enough time to spend it.

That’s not why people become soulmate assistants. Those that go after it for the money are quickly weeded out. A job that requires all of your time and then some is exhausting, and the uncertain element of every situation is enough to drive some people crazy. I’ve heard about how concerts can be nightmares sometimes, especially when the crowd is huge.

Just imagine it: one of the group members makes eye contact with someone for less than a second, and suddenly they’ve got tunnel vision and are trying to jump off the stage into the sea of adoring fans that are all too happy to receive them. Then, somewhere in the crowd of thousands of fans, there’s a poor person who’s freaking out and feeling the symptoms of tachycardia, but guess what? So is everyone in the crowd. Adrenaline is pumping through them all since they’re at their favorite band’s concert.

Long story short, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The biggest thing is for one of the soulmate assistants to grab the idol before they can abandon all reason and their heart gives out, and the other assistant has to find the fan who’s wildest dream just came true.

It doesn’t happen that often, but it has been known to happen on occasion. The most recent was at a TWICE concert, where Sana happened upon her soulmate in the middle of a set. The video of the soulmate assistant acting in record time to contain the situation went viral and it’s one that I had to watch several times throughout my training.

“You guys have a senior assistant, don’t you?” I ask, wondering at my title as central soulmate assistant.

“Yep,” Yuri starts back up again as the light turns green, checking the clock. We’ve still got plenty of time. “From the email they sent me it sounds like I’ll be a junior assistant for about six months before moving up to senior.”

“So fast?”

Yuri shrugs. “Sounds like the senior assistant is about ready to retire. What’s your title?”

“Central.”

“Oh, so fancy.”

There are typically two different forms of soulmate assistant hierarchy; the junior/senior pattern and then the central system.

Junior/senior system is pretty self-explanatory: the senior assistant has typically worked with the group for a while already, and the junior assistant acts as an apprentice of sorts. Learning the trade and preparing to someday take over the responsibilities of the senior assistant. They work as a team to ensure the safety of the group.

A central assistant is a more in-depth and new system. Essentially, I’ll have eyes and ears everywhere from various staff members, who are constantly updating me on potential soulmates. All of the staff have been educated in the basics of soulmate studies, so they know what to do to subdue the situation if need be.

According to Sejin’s email, I will most likely be the only licensed soulmate assistant on the team. My job is to remain close to the members so I can hopefully be the first on the scene to help and get everything under way.

It’s exciting, but also a lot of pressure. My only hope is that the boys don’t run into their soulmates for a while; I would like to at least get to know everyone before having to get all up in their personal space.

The agency looms before us in the morning sun, looking somehow inviting and dreadful at the same time. Yuri follows what the security tells her at the front, parking in the parking garage before turning the car off.

8:42.

“We’re a bit early, but at least now we’ll be able to find where we’re supposed to go.”

I nod numbly at her words, trying to fight the pounding in my heart. 

Side Effect #1: Rapid Pulse Rate

“I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” I grin at Yuri.

It’s quiet in the car before we build up the courage to get out. Our shoes tap against the ground, filling the silent garage with noise. Once inside, we’re directed by a receptionist toward the offices of Sejin and TXT’s management. They’re on the same floor, so we take the elevator together.

As soon as the doors close, Yuri lets out a squeal. “I’m going to dieeee!”

Laughing giddily at her reaction, I lean up against the wall of the elevator and try my best to control my breathing. “Same. Same. Whoo, I need to breathe.”

Side Effect #2: Shortness of breath

The elevator ride is entirely too short, because before I know it Yuri is dragging me out into the hallway and searching for the office #12. I’m supposed to be looking for #17.

Of course Yuri finds hers first, my friend coming to a stop just before the door, turning to grab my hand with surprising strength.

“Quick, tell me that I’ll be fine,” she hisses.

Gently removing her hand from mine, I give her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great, and everything will work out just fine, Yuri.”

Rolling her shoulders, she gives me a mock salute before stepping up to the door. “See you later?”

“Good luck.”

I scamper past as she knocks on the door, looking back as she’s ushered in by a middle-aged man who must be the senior soulmate assistant. He wears the tell-tale yellow circle on his shirt, his eyes wide and alert as though always on the lookout.

He must have left an apprentice with TXT; there are always a few mulling about the agency to step in for the main assistants when they need to attend to other things.

#17 is just a few doors down, the door already wide open as I walk up to it. I don’t allow myself to pause and freak out again, because I’m scared that they’ll hear me start screaming out here or something.

Shoving down the nervousness to the corners of my mind, I take a deep breath and tap the open door lightly.

Sejin sits at his desk, talking quietly to someone sitting in the chair before his desk. He looks up at me, smiling politely. The person in the chair before him turns around at the sound of my knock, and I find myself face to face with none other than the leader of BTS.

“Miss Choi, great to see you,” Sejin stands, Namjoon as well as he waves.

I bow, hoping that my face isn’t too red as I look into the office. It looks like it’s just Namjoon. What a relief.

“Thank you for calling me back,” I say, nodding to Namjoon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Namjoon smiles at me, gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Sejin spoke highly of you.”

Shuffling into the office, I give Sejin a surprised look. “That was kind of you.”

“I was only telling the truth. Namjoon helped me make the decision in regards to the position, so don’t just thank me.”

Namjoon gives me a sheepish smile before settling back down in the chair. I follow suit, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’.

Once we’re all settled, Sejin produces a packet and slides it across the table to me, another one to Namjoon, and keeps one for himself.

“Ok, shall we get started?”

Sejin begins explaining the contract, Namjoon listening intently beside me. The fact that Namjoon helped with all of this makes me feel a little better somehow. It makes me feel like I won’t be quite so out of place with BTS.

We’re stuck in his office for nearly an hour just going over the finer details of the job, and by that time I’ve finally come out of my shell enough to form a few intelligent questions.

“How many staff members do you have that went through soulmate training within the past three months?” I ask, leaning back in my chair as I examine the Staff Preparedness section in the contract.

Sejin looks over something on his computer. “Within the past three months? Only two; the rest are within the year. We have them renew the course once a year. Why three months?”

“There was a technique that was completely discredited by Léo Dupont and they just began applying it in soulmate training within the past three months. While it may not seem that important, it can sometimes make a big difference in timing.”

Namjoon looks at me with wide eyes, a hint of respect blooming there. “What was the technique he discredited?”

“The glass door technique. It was believed that if the soulmates could still see each other but refrain from actual physical contact, this would assist in the ‘come down’ from the surge in heart rate.”

“It doesn’t?” Sejin asks.

I shake my head. “No, in fact, recent studies show that it nearly doubled the ‘come down’ time. It also served as a spike in the heart rate, long after it should have returned to a normal range. It nearly killed Jennifer Aniston before someone moved her to a more secure location. Best case scenario is a complete cut-off from view, and engaging in verbal contact rather than physical.”

“That’s good to know,” Sejin mumbles, typing something out on his laptop. “I’ll send out a memo with that information as well as advise staff to renew their training as soon as possible.”

We go over a few more details before Namjoon sits up in his seat. “We’re about done, right? I just got a text from Soobin saying they’re all gathered up and ready to go.”

My heart rate spikes again as I realize that we must be meeting together after this. And from the sounds of it, it’s practically the entire agency.

“Yeah, just about. Do you want to sign, Namjoon, and you can head out?”

Namjoon signs Sejin’s copy of the contract before getting up and heading toward the door. “We’re excited to have you join the team, Miss Choi.”

“Thank you! And you can just call me Haneul, don’t worry about it.”

Namjoon’s dimples make an appearance as he smiles back at me. “Then I’m just Namjoon to you. See you guys in a bit.”

Sejin covers the last few points in the span of ten or so minutes, clearly ready to get going like I am. We finish up going over vacation days when he leans back with a sigh.

“And yeah, I think that’s about it. Any questions? Today you’ll be getting a feel for the schedule and meet the boys and staff you’ll be working closely with, so don’t hesitate to ask them any more questions as they come.”

Palms starting to sweat with the idea of meeting the rest of Bighit shortly, I give a curt shake of the head. “I think I’m good for now.” Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I reach out for the contract.

Side Effect #3: Chest pain

“Wonderful. Just sign here, and I’ll send you a copy of this.”

☆

Sejin and I walk down the hall after being dropped off at the fifth floor. The second the elevator doors opened I could hear the ruckus of two kpop groups in one room.

To my shock Yuri’s voice rings out, followed by a bout of laughter. It would appear that she’s already found her place.

Sejin gives me an encouraging smile as we inch closer to the room at the end of the hall. “You ready? It’s been a pretty big couple of days for you.”

I can’t help but find comfort in Sejin’s attitude. I’m glad he understands the deer in the headlights look I’m probably sporting right now.

I hope my soulmate is like him.

The thought passes through my mind suddenly, making me go blank for a moment. While it’s a true sentiment, I have to focus on making a good impression today so I can find my soulmate another day.

One day at a time, Hanuel.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond, offering him a shaky smile in return. Sejin chuckles, and I wonder if he felt the same way early on in his manager days. I wonder if he still occasionally feels that way, now that BTS has grown more than anyone ever expected.

He goes before me, entering the room and already falling into a conversation with someone. I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding so hard that it’s hard to focus. Rolling my neck, I take a step into the room.

“Ah, there she is!” Yuri chirps out, leaving from where she was beside Beomgyu, who was showing her a video on his phone. “You guys took a long time.”

If my heart wasn’t currently trying to leap out of my ribcage, I would come up with something funny to say.

“Haneul is very thorough,” Sejin comments from where he stands beside one of the TXT managers. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Quick,” I hear someone speak up, “Everyone pretend like Sejin didn’t just say her name!”

It was Hueningkai that made the comment. I can tell who it was because the boy in question is currently dodging an elbow to the ribs from Taehyun. Yuri laughs at their behavior before looking back to me expectantly.

“Oh,” my voice sounds a bit croaky. After clearing my throat, I try again. “Hello everyone. I’m Choi Haneul, it’s nice to meet you all.”

The seven members of BTS come up to the front, gathering in a line like it’s second nature. Namjoon gives me a small smile, which I take comfort in.

“Well, you’ve met me already...this is everyone else.”

Taehyung steps forward, giving me a small wave and grinning wide. “Just call me Tae.”

Jimin gives his friend a wide-eyed look. “Isn’t that a bit informal for just meeting?” Tae’s cheeks go a little red.

“Is it?” He asks, and I nearly pass out from the amount of sweetness in the room. “I think we’ll be good friends, so why not just skip the formalities?”

The boys reflect various levels of long-suffering as Jungkook shakes his head while the rest of the room laughs at Tae’s odd manner. “We both know it doesn’t work like that.”

Sejin answers the question I didn’t even know I was thinking. “In case you’re wondering, they’re always like this. Might as well get used to it.”

Yuri giggles at my reddened cheeks, but I brush off the embarrassment enough to look back at the boys. “That’s good to know.” The boys break from their line in order to return to wherever they were lounging about earlier. Once they turn to leave I feel a bit better; my heart calming down. Hopefully, with time, I’ll be able to breathe properly around them.

I remain near the door, unsure as to what to do next. It looks like Sejin and the other managers are preparing to give a debriefing of sorts and everyone is just waiting around for it. Thankfully, Yuri remains beside me.

“How are you holding up?” She asks me quietly. I give her a long look, conveying the depth of my feelings perfectly.

“I can’t calm down. I feel like I’m either going to pass out or going to run the length of Seoul in five minutes flat.”

Side Effect #4: Lightheadedness and/or fainting (syncope) 

Yuri snorts. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Taehyung calls out to me, pulling me from my conversation. “You’re from Seoul, Miss Choi?”

I smile warmly at him, already taking a liking to him. He’s one big contradiction: his looks make him appear intimidating, but he has the warmest personality.

“I’m originally from Anyang, actually. But I’ve been in Seoul for the past five years.”

“Oh, we’re neighbors!”

Jin is the one who spoke, and I look to where he stands behind the couch, leaning down to watch something on Jungkook’s phone. His eyes are turned up to me, a hint of excitement at being from neighboring cities evident in his expression.

Less than a second is all it takes.

In the second grade, I learned that within the span of a single second, a bumblebee can beat its wings 200 times.

That fact fascinated my young brain; 200 times in a single second?! Of all the wonders in the world I had discovered and had yet to discover in my life, this was the fact that stayed with me. How could such a small creature accomplish such an improbable feat, all within the confines of the time it takes to blink?

My junior year of high school I learned that the average pair of soulmates begin to experience the initial spike in heart rate that leads to tachycardia within the first 0.002 seconds of eye contact. That means, even if it’s a passing glance, the moment those two sets of eyes make contact, everything is about to change.

As I hold eye contact with Jin across the room, I believe that there is a small part of me that knows I should be thinking about everything I’ve learned about soulmates over the past few years. Where are the steps I used to recite day and night in order to keep them memorized?

Yet, that little 8 year old girl with wonder-filled eyes as she learns about bumblebee’s amazing abilities is the only thing I can come up with. Almost as if she’s in the room with me, looking back and forth between Jin and I with that same expression.

Something clicks for me in that single moment as my heart rate continues to jolt and jump. Something seems to connect between bumblebees and soulmates.

Like a bumblebee’s wings frantically beating to keep itself aloft, my own heart begins to do its best to meet the same pace.

Side Effect #5: Heart palpitations (a racing, uncomfortable or irregular heartbeat or a sensation of "flopping" in the chest)

I’m barely aware of distant voices all around me, a few growing in volume as the truth sinks in. I feel arms trapping my own against my torso, and I gasp for air as breathing becomes more difficult. Frowning, I realize that someone is trying to move me away.

Away?

Jin seems to notice I’m being moved away at the same time I do, because the frozen posture he had is broken as he straightens and lurches forward.

He’s all I can see. It strikes me in that moment that he looks a bit different in real life. Sharper, yet somehow more welcoming. Those eyes, although frantic, have kindness imbued in them. The fingers that are outstretched toward me are a bit crooked, and I can’t help but wonder for a moment if our hands will fit together like everyone always says soulmates do.

Wait, soulmates?

Amidst the pounding in my chest and burning lungs, I suddenly have a moment of clarity. The wiry arms wrapped around my torso must belong to Yuri, and she’s speaking calmly into my ear.

“Count with me, Haneul. 1, 2, 3…”

Opening my mouth and marveling at how dry and scratchy my throat feels, I croak out, “...4…5…”

“What comes next, Han?”

“...6.”

Yuri hums, gently trying to ease me backward. When my body locks up, she tries a new method. Coming around to face me, she keeps a firm grip on my shoulders, and gets up on her tippy toes to look me in the eyes.

“We’ve got to move you to a separate room, Han. You remember, don’t you?”

There’s a small voice in my head that wants to tell her that yes, I do remember. However it’s drowned out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears as it continues to pick up speed. Yuri is instructing the boys to grab Jin as he continues marching toward me on shaky legs. He’s only about three feet away, arms extending toward me while Yuri pins my arms down and shoves.

“Grab him!” Yuri shouts even as I cry out from being shoved away. In a flash I see a couple of different pairs of arms reaching out to Jin, effectively stopping him in his tracks as he struggles against them.

“Please,” Jin says in a surprisingly calm voice even as he pushes against Jungkook and Sejin. “Please, just let me-”

“Han, I know your mind is a jumbled mess right now, but please. Remember that this is a matter of life or death. You want to see him?” Yuri doesn’t wait for my response, which makes sense as I haven’t once looked away from Jin. “Then get out of here. Now.”

Like an electric shock to my senses, I breathe in deep. Still unable to look anywhere other than Jin - his sweater has a loose thread on the collar, I should fix that for him - I do the only thing I can.

Closing my eyes is like swimming through concrete, but gritting my teeth I just manage to do it. The second I break contact with Jin, my body relaxes just enough for Yuri to push against me and shove my unwilling feet out the door.

She has a firm grip on the back of my shoulders still as she shouts out to nobody in particular, “I need a room!”

Someone must answer her, because we abruptly change directions before coming to a stop. I refuse to open my eyes for fear of falling back into the imobile state I was in before, and Yuri still hasn’t given me the clear.

“Yeonjun, grab my bag! Bring it to me.”

The sounds of everyone scampering around are drowned out as I hear Jin’s broken voice calling out once more.

“No, don’t take her. Please don’t take her from me.”

Like a dam of freezing water breaking over my head, my eyes open and I spin around, seeing Jin breaking free of Sejin’s grasp and dragging Jungkook along with him.

Just as my eyes find his once more, the door slams shut.

Part 2

masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @thecaffeinatedscribbles​ @marianeamine 

[hovid19]

All-Nighter (Spencer Reid)

Just some Spencer Reid fluff based on the prompt: “Now, how could I forget you?”

This is my first imagine-type story on here so please go easy on me... :)

Word count: 1,137 words

It was never easy to fall asleep in your apartment. It was old and run-down and everything inside of it squeaked insistently. Usually it didn’t bother you much, having been used to the noise after living in the studio for a week. But over the past couple of days, it had been more challenging than ever to turn your brain off enough to get some shut-eye, leading to the sounds of the faulty A/C and near-broken ceiling fan to drive you crazy.

You tried everything– focusing on your breathing, reading a book, exercising to try and tire yourself out. Nothing was working, and it was getting harder and harder to go through a normal day without a raging headache due to your lack of sleep.

You were thinking of finding someone to bother, your cat not providing enough company after scratching you for disturbing him from his slumber. It was 4:52AM, and you were far from tired.

Maybe your best friend would be up. She always knew the perfect way to get you to fall asleep, or at least keep you busy enough to not go insane. But fifteen minutes later and with no reply, you decided on taking a walk to clear your head– and get the fuck out of that noisy apartment.

The air was chilly, the winds of September hitting you as you pushed open the door to the entrance of the apartment building. The ground was wet, a thunderstorm passing through just hours earlier. The air still smelled like rain.

There were a few cars that passed by every now and then, a handful of people getting a head start on the early morning, while you were stuck in a late night– though not by choice.

You glanced down at your phone. 5:04AM. Maybe your favorite coffee shop would be open. You had never been up early enough (or stayed up late enough) to have known.

You pulled the door open, instantly smelling the delicious odor of coffee grounds and melting at the aroma. There were a plethora of reasons this place was your favorite, and the scent of their freshly ground coffee was definitely one of them.

“Y/N? Is something wrong?” the owner, Liam, asked, peering over the top of one of the cappuccino machines.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Was something on your face? You peered down at your outfit, a pair of joggers and a sweatshirt. Neither was dirty. “No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“I thought the world was ending when I saw you walking in at 5AM on a Saturday morning. You sure you’re okay?”

You rolled your eyes and let out a chuckle. “Ha, ha. Laugh it up, Liam.” Not like he was wrong. Early mornings were SO not your thing. “I’ll have you know everything is perfectly fine.”

He nodded sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, hun. Whatever you say. Gimme five on the coffee.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend every last cent of your paycheck at Liam’s coffee shop. He had easily the best coffee in the city, and plus, he made it a point to get to know every customer that walked through the door. It was like having a hip forty-nine year old dad that also made the world’s best coffee.

The seat you sat down in was one you always took, a plush chair in the corner of the shop, next to the big bay window that looked out on the street. You crossed your arms over your chest, letting your eyes drift to the people and cars and bikes that passed the window. You still weren’t tired.

With a huff, you turned away from the scenery to look out at the shop. It wasn’t busy by any means, but it did have a good bit of people in it for only opening seven minutes ago. Your eyes got stuck on the figure sitting across from you two tables down.

You recognized him from a couple of other times you’d encountered him: twice at the park, four times at the bank and once at the very coffee shop you were sitting at. It was odd how many times you’d run into him in the short span of living here, but it’s not like you were complaining much. Having a face as pretty as his be a familiar one was not something you were gonna protest.

A hello was definitely planning on coming out of your mouth, but you could not for the life of you remember his name. You sat for a second, eyebrows scrunched and lip caught between your teeth. Steve? No, you’d remember if someone as young as him had a name that sounded old. Shawn? No, you would’ve remembered that too because you probably would’ve made a joke about him having the same name as Shawn Mendes. Seth? That seemed close– or at least better than the other options.

“Spencer!” Liam called, holding up a cup. The man stood, gathering his coffee before sitting back down.

“Spencer!” you parroted out loud, before widening your eyes and setting your hand over your mouth.

He looked at you confused, cocking his head a bit to the side. At least you knew his name now, and kind of sort of said hello.

You laughed, standing and sitting across from him. “Sorry, I was trying to remember your name because we’ve run into each other a couple of times and I wanted to say hi. I don’t know if you remember, I’m Y/N.”

He just smiled, taking a sip from his cup. “Now, how could I forget you?”

You smiled back, a small blush taking over your cheeks. You bit your lip again, hands tucked in between your legs. “I don’t know, I couldn’t even remember your name so I didn’t expect you to recall who I was.”

“I have an eidetic memory,” he explained. “And even if I didn’t, I don’t think I could ever forget someone as beautiful as you.”

Your cheeks felt hot and you couldn’t keep that stupid smile off of your face. “God, you’re cheesy, huh?”

He slipped a card across the table, standing and gathering his things. “I have to get to work, but please, don’t be afraid to call. My name’s on the card in case you forget,” he teased, smiling as he walked out of the shop.

You let out an incredulous laugh, staring at the door he just walked out of and shaking your head until Liam pulled you from your trance. “Jeez, I thought he’d never ask you out. Last time you were here he wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

You grabbed your coffee, thanking Liam and making your way back to your apartment. Maybe having a minor case of insomnia wasn’t necessarily all bad.

[headoverhiddles]

You and Me and The Devil Makes 3 - Marilyn Manson x Brian Warner x Reader [Smut] - Part II

Synopsis: Both you and Brian can’t get the substitute teacher off your mind. Thankfully, Brian needs some extra help before an upcoming exam, and your regular teacher still hasn’t come back. 

Notes: Long ass title. Anyway, someone asked for a sequel, so here’s more filthy Mancest ft you! IT’S FILTHY! We could all use the porn. 

Part One 

You bring your lips to your boyfriend’s, lazily making out after an hour of stressing the springs in his mattress. 

A KISS record plays in the corner of his room. The afternoon sun seeps in over the countless Judas Priest and Nine Inch Nails posters all over the walls through the blinds that you’ve kept unturned. Both of you like the thrill of knowing Brian’s Christian neighbors might see you and your “filthy sex acts” again. Barb, Brian’s mother, hadn’t been too pleased after receiving that phone call, but Brian’s dad Hugh found it quite funny.

His parents liked you, called you a sweet girl. They don’t know much about Brian, and they don’t make much of an effort to—they know he’s into some dark music and he has a band, but they don’t know he’s interested in guys too, and they don’t know how far he wants to take his musical persona.

You’re also anything but sweet, but Barb and Hugh are well meaning, and you love them to death, always appreciative of the cake Barb feeds you when you visit the house. You think the two of them have some kind of idea that since Brian is almost finished high school, he’d take you somewhere and settle down with you. Neither of you want to settle down, but as far as either of you have shared, you have no plans of breaking up after grad.

You move your kisses down to Brian’s neck, and he keens under the attention, before reaching up to pull you back to his lips.

“I want you again,” you whisper, and Brian stares up at you.

“We just went four times, you brat.”

“But I’m horny.”

“And I’m soft, roll offa me. Gonna have to… watch some porn or something to get hard again…”

“This is better than porn,” you grin, unhooking your bra, and he pauses in his act of drinking down his bedside water glass, smiling too.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs, and smoothes his hands up your rib cage to cup your breasts and fondle them. You lean down to drag them against his bare chest, and his hands move down to once again get himself ready to fuck again.

“So. We gonna talk about what happened on Friday?”

Brian’s breath hitches as he jacks himself to hardness again. “Do you want to?”

“I certainly think it raises some new… things, that we’re both obviously into.” Brian flushes a little, and you grin, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Hey. You know you can be comfy with me.”

Brian nods, thrusting up into you finally with a hiss. “It was hot… the stuff he did.”

“I know,” you breathe, shuddering as you slide back down over him, “I just wanted the two of you to double team me forever.”

“So is this a thing, then?” Brian whispers, “Like, a third person?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “We could explore a polyamorous relationship. But for now, I’m okay with secret threesomes involving hot teachers.”

“You think he’s still there?”  

“I think before he left on Friday, he mentioned he’d be around for another week. Mrs. Nordman wasn’t just hungover, she had the flu or something. Why?”

“I mean… we’ve got that English exam coming up soon.”

You smile. “We could use the extra help, hm?” He groans at that, pushing up into you harder, and you tilt your head back, riding him into his bed.

---

At school on Monday, you meet Brian at the front doors. He’s standing with Daisy, waiting for his friend to finish smoking, and doodling something on his hand. You see it’s a bunch of needles and lollipops.

“You know, you should’ve been an artist,” you smile, taking his hand.

“I am an artist. Different kind.”

Pogo approaches, swinging himself up onto the railing. “Morning, you sad fucks. How’re the losers today?”

“Depressed,” Daisy answers.

“Good to hear. I myself am in a fucking marvelous mood, seeing as I banged not one, not two-- but THREE chicks this weekend at a college tit party. THE MAD CLOWN HITS HOME AGAIN!” He lets loose his usual flurry of crazy laughter, the sound that could tell anybody the bald student was coming from a mile away.

“How’d you manage that?” Brian mutters, amused.

“Sorry, Mr. Big Dick, some girls have refined taste, unlike (y/n) or Mr. Manson in there, don’t argue, I know you fucked him.” He pauses his manic rocking, leaning forward. “I also told them I was in a wildly successful rock band.”

“There’s the kicker,” you nod.

“I did not fuck Mr. Manson,” Brian protests. Everyone turns to look at him, and he smirks your way. “He fucked me.” Laughter erupts.

“No smoking on school property, you goth weirdos,” some kiss-ass cheerleader snaps as she walks past, and Pogo catapults Brian’s pen at her head.

“We’re gonna be late, hurry up.” Brian nudges Daisy.

“This is my last one, and I’m too broke to afford another pack until I get my next paycheck,” Daisy complains, savouring another drag.

“Here, lemme have a puff,” Pogo says, motioning for it. Daisy passes it over, and Pogo flicks it into the grass, pulling everyone inside. “Problem solved!”  

You giggle as Daisy shakes his head, and all of you turn when you hear screaming. There’s Jeordie, running toward the school like an idiot.

“I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!” he’s shouting, then the bell goes. He tosses his backpack to the ground, kicking it. “SHIT!”

---

It’s an uneventful Monday, until the last class. When you get in and sit down, Mr. Manson is at the front of the class already, writing the day’s class plan out. Today, he’s dressed in a black button up, with a black vest over top of black pants. His hair is brushed back in a fairly respectable style, and… he turns around. His lips today are a soft coral pink, with black and blue eyeshadow. Brian stares at him, in awe once again at the man’s swaggering confidence and style. Why is it that with bisexuality, it’s always a question of if he wanted to be the other guy, or be in the other guy? Or have the guy in him, as the case may be.                                                

“Alright. Before we start, does anyone have any questions about today’s makeup?” Manson’s tone is playful, and a light titter of laughter comes from the students. He grins. “Alright. You sure?” More laughter. “Okay. Today, we’ll be covering a new chapter of literary theory, and applying it to the first act of Hamlet.”

His dark eyes sweep the classroom as he marks off attendance, and when they come to rest on you, he looks up. “Is there a reason why you and Miss (y/l/n) were late today, Mr. Warner?” Your entire friend group looks at the two of you. Your boyfriend just shrugs. 

“Yeah, there was a reason.” You raise an eyebrow right back with a smirk, and Brian leaves it at that. You’re surprised when Manson accepts this without a cheeky little order to see him after class, but that’s fine. Brian has an excuse to see him anyway.

While Mr. Manson is talking, Brian writes out some lyrics for a new song he and the Spooky Kids have been working on. He nudges you, and taps the paper, which has a verse written out.

VCRs and Vaseline

TV fucked by plastic queens

Cash in hand and dick on screen

(who said god was ever clean)

He’s drawn a big question mark under it, so you give a little check mark on the paper, with the note:

Hot.

“I know this shit is boring, but pay attention,” Manson says from the front of the classroom, glaring daggers at you two. 

“Imagine that lipstick all over my naked body,” you whisper in his ear. Brian glares at you.

“Stop trying to get me hard in class.”

“Why?” you tease.

“Cause it’s fucking working.”

“Do you one of you guys have an eraser?” Jeordie whispers (far too loudly) from behind you. You pass him back yours, and look at him sternly.

“Don’t pick it apart like you did all my other ones.” 

“What did I just say?” Manson snaps from the front of the class.

“We were just—!” you try to protest.

“No talking. Last warning.”

You and Brian exchange looks. He’s in a mood today, and you can’t wait to see how the two of you can test him even more after class.

When the class is finished, you all wait until the rest of the students are gone. Pogo looks back at you two from the door, making obscene blow job gestures. Mr. Manson doesn’t look up from the desk.

“Did you need something, Mr. Bier?”

“Not me!” Pogo snickers, dashing off to go catch up with Daisy and Jeordie.

“Mr. Manson?” Brian asks, “I need a little bit of help with studying for the upcoming exam. I dedicate a lot of time to my band, and… don’t study as much as I should.”

“Mm. And (y/n)? You just gonna watch your boyfriend... ask for help?” Manson asks. 

“I might learn a few things too, by sticking around,” you say, and lean forward against your desk. Manson’s eyes roam down to your cleavage, and he closes his book, getting up. He walks over to the door, locks it, and comes back over.

“The English exam. Yeah. As you know, I don’t know much about your curriculum, or really, about the exam itself.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try to help us out,” you say. “Please sir? We really need help.” Mr. Manson looks at you, blue and black shadow making his hooded eyes seem supernatural.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Brian walks over to his desk, chin jutted out in confidence that will be lost as soon as Manson looks him in the eye. Sure enough, when the substitute gives your boyfriend one of his looks up and down, sweeping his entire body as if he’s a meal about to be devoured, Brian shudders. But he’s not about to lose his cool.

“See… I don’t get the whole psychoanalytic theory,” Brian says, putting the book down in front of Mr. Manson, “I don’t see how it applies to Hamlet.”

“Of course you pick the Freudian thing.” He sighs. “Well first, you have to understand psychoanalysis.” Manson looks over to you pointedly. “I’m sure you know all about Freud and his phallic symbols. You two had a lot of fun drawing them on your notes last Friday.” 

Brian laughs a little at that. Wrong move. Manson gets up, and in one quick stride, he has your boyfriend pushed down and bent over the desk, ass up.

“What the fuck?” Brian mutters, but you can hear the whine at the end of his protest. Your legs rub together as your finger grazes your lower lip… you want to see how this turns out.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Manson says slowly, “I’m gonna help you two, since you fuck around in class all the time and never pay attention.” He leans in close to Brian, and your boyfriend glares up at him for holding him in such a vulnerable position. Manson just smirks, and gets out a ruler from the desk. “Our angel over there is gonna answer some questions of mine, baby. Got it?”

“What do you—?” A sharp slap echoes, as Manson hits the desk with the ruler hard.

“You say yes sir, and no sir, or this desk will be that pretty little ass. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Brian breathes, laying his face down on the desk. You raise an eyebrow, spreading your legs just a bit.

“You really have enough confidence in me that I know these answers?” you grin.

“Nah. I’m counting on you not knowing a single one, baby girl,” Manson smiles, and traces the ruler up Brian’s back. “But try your best. He’s counting on you.” Manson gets the ruler ready again. "Tell me what the basis of psychoanalytic theory is."

"It's a theory that draws from psychoanalyzing the behavior of the characters in the... in the story," you say, eyes trained on Brian.

"Good start," Manson nods, rubbing his hand up Brian's back, "Saved you this time, sweetheart." Brian makes a noise, akin to a moan, and Manson looks at you again, expectantly, from the depths of that eyeshadow. "What are some examples?"

"There's... a response to modern day literature from a new and improved perspective."

"Wrong," Manson says, "That's postmodernism." 

“Aw. Guess that must’ve slipped my mind.” You shift in your seat, reaching down to touch yourself. Manson sees this out of the corner of his eye, and lifts his chin. 

"Mr. Warner?"

Brian obediently pulls down his leggings just enough. Not satisfied with this, Manson pulls them down to his knobby knees, and hits him hard with the ruler. Brian's hips rut against the desk, and your pussy clenches as you rub faster circles.

"Again, sir," Brian whimpers.

"You want another one?" Manson asks.

"Yes, sir."

"(y/n)... your boy here's a bit of a slut."

"I'd have to agree," you grin, head rolling back as a moan is drawn from your throat.

"I guess I should know that by now. Have you ever tried fucking him?"

Brian's breath hitches, and you think about this. "He's never asked."

"Imagine how that'd feel, hm?" the teacher whispers in Brian's ear, "Her fingers inside of you... filling you up. You like that?"

"Fuck, fuck," Brian groans, hips pushing forward against the desk. He's painfully hard.

"Gonna cum in your pants?” Manson rasps.

“No...” Brian clenches his jaw. “Ugh...”

“What if she fucked you with three fingers? Spreading this perfect ass wide open?" he continues to tease, snarling, "What if I did? You like the pain, don't you? It turns you on." Manson spanks him again, harder, and you can see the red imprint he’s left.

"Yeah..." Brian moans, his usual grumble raising in pitch. "I want you both to fuck me."

"First, you get to watch." Mr. Manson looks over to you, and beckons. You make a show of teasing back, mouthing 'me?' Before Manson has a chance to threaten, you stand, walking over to the teacher. He stands a full few feet taller than you, the height difference still as hot as it was in the washroom the other day. He takes you by the shoulders, and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is sloppy and heated. You moan, sliding your hand down to cup his cock through his black slacks. You can feel the hefty erection respond to your touch, but you want to feel it inside you, fucking you. Brian watches, and reaches down to give himself some relief. 

"Ah ah," you break away from the kiss to say, "Someone's being naughty." Brian shoots you a glare for ratting him out, and you blow your boyfriend a kiss as Manson turns to look at him.

"Do I have to tie you up, baby boy? Or can you stop those hands from wandering, hmm?" Hearing that in Manson's deep growl is such a turn on. You pull him back to you.

"Let him stay like that. If you spank him again, he's gonna cum all over the desk."

"Disgusting," Manson chastises, licking his lips, "Filthy filthy, Mr. Warner."

"At least I didn't take out my cock in class and start stroking it for you to see," Brian mouths off.

"I'm sure you would've loved to do that," you smirk, going back to stroking Mr. Manson through his pants.

"Mm. Yeah. Bet you would’ve loved to take it out, show everyone how hard you were. How ready you were for your girlfriend and your fucking teacher to take turns on you.”

"I..." Brian groans.

"Use your words, slut."

"Yeah," he breathes, "I might... I don't know, get embarrassed, but--"

"Sluts don't get embarrassed," Manson says sharply. "Besides, as a big rock and roll singer, I'd imagine that you do much worse onstage. Or am I wrong?”

“Tell him all the shit you've done onstage," you moan.

Brian shifts his hips, recalling everything he'd done during a show. Mr. Manson was right-- when he was onstage, it was as if he became a different person. A persona. Someone darker, maniacal even. Someone who's willing to do anything.

"I've fucked (y/n) onstage," he growls. "Fucked her til her tight little cunt couldn't take it anymore."

Mr. Manson takes his cock out of his pants, starts stroking it himself as you lay back on a desk in front of him. You watch his cockhead disappear in his fist with every stroke, licking your lips. 

"What else?"

"I stripped her down naked in front of everyone... and ate her pussy."

"Oh god," you whine, picturing that night. You had both been so high you had forgotten there was even an audience. 

"That must have felt good." Manson looks to you.

"It did. It did, and I love it," you murmur, glancing down to your exposed breasts, "Just like him. I wanna be filled by you, sir. Just like Brian fills me up."

Brian rolls his hips against the desk as Mr. Manson slots himself between your legs, dragging his cock between the folds of your pussy. "So fuckin' wet. It'll be so easy to get into you, baby girl."

"Please, Mr. Manson," you moan, “I need you.”

"Fuck her," Brian gasps out, "She's such a fucking cockslut, she needs it." You nod. Manson reaches his hand up to cup one of your breasts as he slides in, filling you to the hilt. 

"Oh god," you manage out, hands grabbing at the edges of the small desk. Manson’s cock isn’t as long as Brian’s, but it’s thicker, so thick you can feel the pain of the stretch. 

"Fuck," Brian whines, watching Manson pull out almost fully then pound back into you. He’s frustrated—he can’t touch himself, and his cock is heavy and weeping against the desk. He could cum from any little touch at this point.

"If you even think about touching your cock, the punishment will be unimaginable," Manson growls to your brat of a boyfriend. Brian groans in complaint, resting his head against the desk as he continues to rock his hips and watch. "Tell me more about how you fuck (y/n)," Manson says, thrusting in hard. The desk skids back a couple of inches, and you gasp. "Ah, nope. The principal could still walk by, baby girl. Don't want him to hear the three of us acting out our own little porno, do you?"

"No, sir."

"No. That's right. Mr. Warner? You were saying?" 

"I fuck her all the time," Brian says, words tumbling out of his mouth as he loses his grip. "We fuck between classes, before class, after class. She always wants my dick.”

"Yeah?" Mr. Manson asks, humming low in his chest. "Seems like you just can't get satisfied baby, hm?"

"I get satisfied," you reply, grinding your hips down obscenely, "I just love his cock so much that I want it all the time. I love feeling full."

"Why don't we make good and sure you're nice and full then?" Manson beckons Brian over, not stopping his thrusts for a second. Brian’s surprised for a moment that he gets to move or do anything, but quickly complies. Manson’s belt jangles as he grunts, balls slapping your ass. "Give our baby girl a mouthful."

Your eyes light up, and Brian's lips quirk up. He loves watching you get used, and being a part of it is almost too much for him. He stands, and gets over top of your face, willing himself not to blow the minute he pushes between your pretty pink lips.

"Lemme see that nice cock, baby boy," Manson rasps. His breath hitches when Brian strokes his fist all the way up the length, over the head, and back down. "Mmm, perfect. Give her some, she looks thirsty."

"Take it, baby," Brian whispers, biting his lip as he smacks his cock against your lips, "C'mon, you know you want it."

"You know her safe word?" Manson mutters. Brian nods. You open wide for your boyfriend, and he slides his cock into your mouth, stopping before it hits the back of your throat. He raises his eyebrows down to you, and you nod again, feverishly. It's almost too much, the older man fucking you into the desk so hard and your boyfriend using your mouth to get off. But you love the thrill, and you're getting closer to your climax every second.

"You're doing so good," Mr. Manson says to you, stroking down your pelvic bone to caress your stomach, your clit, down to your inner thighs. Your hips buck. "Shhh. Taking us so good, sweetheart."

"Isn't it "so well?' You are an English teacher, right?" Brian asks, grinning. Mr. Manson shoots him a look daring to go any further with that. Brian knows his place, casting his eyes downward.

"You like to piss people off, don’t you?" Manson asks.

"Yeah. It's part of my, uh... my thing."

"Your thing right now is to quit being a smart ass, fuck your girlfriend's mouth, and do what your told."

Brian sucks his cheekbones in, biting his bottom lip hard as he feels his cock throb. "Yes, sir!" He gives a sarcastic mock salute with a big dumb grin, and that does it.

"Back over the desk."

"What?!" Brian's eyebrows furrow angrily.

"You heard me. Get back. Over. The desk. Now."

Brian whines, and removes himself from your mouth. As he's walking back over though, the fearless streak continues. He fondles Mr. Manson's bare ass as he walks by, clucking his tongue. "Damn, daddy. Great ass, for an old man."

You smirk, knowing it'll get a rise out of the teacher. But he just goes back to fucking you-- albeit much faster.

"Oh... oh yeah. Oh god," you hiss, trying still to keep it as quiet as possible. Mr. Manson's short black hair falls from his coiffed mohawk and into his eyes as he starts to get close. "I'm gonna fucking cum," you moan, tits bouncing in your bra. Manson pushes in one more time, and you cum hard on his cock, mouth falling open.

He pulls out of you when you're finished, and Brian comes over, kneeling down and taking Mr. Manson's cock into his mouth. He suckles for a few seconds, then takes him down all the way as the older man shudders, buries his fingers into your boyfriend's hair, and cums down his throat. Brian swallows, blinking up at the teacher, and Mr. Manson looks down at him, at the teenager’s painfully swollen cock resting on his thigh. 

"You've been a good boy," he mumbles, “Helped daddy cum. I think you deserve something.” Brian's eyes flutter shut, and Manson strokes his cheek. With a gasp from the touch alone, Brian suddenly cums untouched all over his leg and the floor. You watch him convulse through every wave of his orgasm, then rest back on his hands when he finishes. 

Manson sits on the edge of his desk, and you stand, helping Brian clean up. He runs a hand through his long black hair, and fiddles his tongue against his lip ring.

"You know... you should come check out the Spooky Kids in concert sometime."

Manson runs a hand through his hair, making sure he looks his best-- comfortably disheveled. "Your band?" 

"Yeah. You were in a band yourself, weren't you?" Brian smirks. 

“Yeah.”

"As long as you bring some good, uh... you know, nose candy-- gotta make the sacrificial offerings to the band-- then feel free to show up."

“He doesn’t do nose candy, bring some ring pops and lollipops and that’ll be more than sufficient,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“What makes you think I've got drugs on me anyway?" Manson deadpans. "I'm a fuckin' high school English teacher." Brian stares at the debauched man with lipstick smeared down his chin and hair standing up from all angles. Manson bursts into what can only be described as giggles. "Yeah. Well, I’m not about to give my drugs away to a group of 18 year old musicians. Then you’d turn out just like me.” 

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Brian teases, tugging slightly at the silver skull brooch on Manson’s lapel. Manson strokes his knuckles.

“If I'm still in town, I'll see if I can make it to a show. You seem like you’d be good. Like you’ve got rock star in your blood.” It’s as if Brian’s whole body blushes—it’s freaking cute you think, as you fix your hair. “--But only if I get to come backstage with the rest of the groupies." 

"Oh," you smile, approaching  to fix Mr. Manson’s black tie, "We'll be waiting for you."  

“Who else is in this band?” Manson asks out of curiosity. “Anyone else from this class?”

“Stephen, Scott, Jeordie. Another kid named Freddy, doesn’t go here.”

“Bier is crazy enough to be in a band, I’d believe that. Putesky, that’s interesting. He doesn’t seem the type. He seems like he’d be the type to yell at people like you to turn the music down.”

 Brian nods, “Yeah, we tell him that all the time. He looks like someone’s grandpa. He shreds on the guitar, though, you’d be surprised. So does Jeordie.”

Manson huffs, getting his bag together, “Jeordie? That doesn’t surprise me as much.” The substitute teacher lets you two out of the classroom, and checks the time. 4 PM now. “Well. I hope you feel ready for the exam. I didn’t do shit to help you, but...” 

“We got what we needed to,” you say, fixing your skirt with a small smile.

“Good. Cause I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what’ll happen if you get a fuckin’ F.”  

[eluminium]

How Elg abandoned her old name (and joined the Bowtie Bastards)

(Yes this is a written story sue me)

Thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk-

Her badly damaged shoes kept colliding into the small sidewalk, with car engines roaring on the road by her side. Her ragged breaths were slowly drowning out the echo of gunfire and the shivering screams of panicked civilians. She has to flee, and quickly!

Getting caught in the crossfires of a heist gone wrong on the streets of Stockholm wasn’t something on her “To do” list today, honestly, she just wanted to finish her shift and finally get her paycheck for this week. But here she was, another strike for her cursed luck-

BANG!

Her feet almost gave out as her body flung itself into a nearby alleyway. The sound of the impact bounced of the intimidating concrete walls and the taste of dirt made itself known. She stayed on the ground, shivers rattling her body while dulled shocks of pain coursed through her.

Another THUD followed hers. She felt her body spring into action as she jerked up from the dirt-filled ground. Her gaze bounced around like crazy, trying to find the originator of this noise. Was it dangerous? Was she gonna die? Is this how she was gonna go out? Dying in an alleyway at the ripe age of 16?

The questions soared through her head as her eyes landed on a man standing nearby, his lean frame pressed against the wall near the edge. A brilliant crimson bowtie snaked along his dark neck. She was slightly mesmerized by this stranger before her eyes caught something metallic in his hands.

A gun.

A squeak clawed its way out of her throat as she scrambled backward. This was it, she was screwed. The man flinched and his heels jolted towards the noise. The barrel of the gun was staring her down.

“I ain’t afraid of ya, pig! Any closea’ and iyl blow ya hea’ off!”

Tears fell from her face and her body was shaking like a maraca. The man’s eyelids slowly rose in confusion at the silence, cops weren’t in the habit of staying quiet. His bewildered gaze met her drenched one. His grip on the gun loosened and a sigh escaped his lips.

“Oi, don’t scare me like tha’ lass” he muttered with relief.

She raised an eyebrow, she wasn’t dead? This dude wasn’t gonna turn her into a slice of swiss cheese?

“Ve-vem är du? Varför sköt du inte mig?”

The man tilted his head and shrugged a bit and she facepalmed mentally. Right, he was speaking English, he probably didn’t understand Swedish. She cleared her throat and tried again

“Who are you? Why didn’t you shoot me?” she said with a bit more confidence in her tone.

His eye lit up a bit.

“Tha’ names Aynan, proud memba’ of tha’ Bowtie Bastards!

“Bowtie...Bastards?” She questioned.

“Ya nevera’ heard of ‘em? Big scary crime group? Founded in tha’ 1850s?”

Her head shook back and forth in confusion.

“Huh, well I guess ya learn somethin’ everyday, anyways, what was ya second question?” 

“Oh yeah uh...why didn’t you..y’know” she stammered while doing a “gun shooting” motion with her hand.

“Why did I not...Oh. Well, shootin’ one of our own seems 

counterproductive” he stated simply.

“One of our own?”

His finger rose and pointed at what she was wearing.

“I can tell by ya rags that the world hasn’t given ya tha’ best shot” 

Her arms instinctively curled up around her waist and her face heated up. Her upper body was dressed in a hoodie that was clinging onto life, ripped, torn, and dirty from its overuse. Her sweatpants didn’t look much better and her shoes were hanging onto a single thread. Calling her clothes “rags” wasn’t really an overstatement.

The corners of Aynan’s mouth went down, forming a frown. His finger danced its way across the carvings of the gun. Another sigh.

“Y’know lass, the Bowtie Bastards are for people like you and me. The ones discarded by society, given tha’ short end of the stick so to say. I was just like ya’, but the Bowties gave me a new family, a new hope.”

His knee touched down right next to her and his eyes met hers. He placed an old looking phone in her hand.

“So if ya’ ever feel like joinin’ don’t be scared to call up, whats yar name anyway?”

She jolted up a bit, surprised by the question.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, gotta have somethin’ to identify ya with if ya do call,” he said with a smirk.

Her gaze jumped around a bit. Is it a good idea to tell him? Does she trust him enough? The questions looped in her head, but her eyes landed on a ripped up moose plushie lying in one of the trashcans. Before she could think, she had already spoken.

“Älg”

“Elg? Did I pronounce tha’ right?” Aynan asked.

Her face was hot again, she just told this dude her name was the Swedish word for moose, MOOSE! And as a matter of fact, he did not pronounce it correctly. But what was she gonna do about it? Correct him and cause more embarrassment? Tell him her real name and make it more awkward? Air flowed into her lungs and she made a decision.

“Y-Yeah, that's right”

“Well Elg, I hope ya’ take me up on tha’ offer. And if ya try to turn it in to the cops, don't bothea’, it can’t be tracked anyway” he explained quickly.

“I gotta go link up with ma’ squad now, see ya around”

His heel turned and his legs started moving. Not long after the echo of his steps faded, replaced by the noise of the city. Elg stretched up and her feet resumed their task of balancing. The old flip phone fit neatly in her pocket as she returned to her original goal. The thoughts were overwhelming. Thoughts about what happened, thoughts about how she survived...thoughts about what Aynan said.

But she could think about that later, there was work to be done and 

paychecks to get.

Time Skip

Her eyes were glued on her paycheck in disbelief, her fingers gripped the cardboard. This...This wasn’t enough. Her stomach churned hungrily at the thought, angry tears began to fall. The check hit the ground at full force and her head buried itself in her hands.

She had tried so hard. So very very hard.

“Förlåt pappa...Förlåt”

A rustle in her pocket caught her attention. Her hand snaked down and closed around the object, bringing it up to her face. The silver glow shining of it welcomed her with open arms. Before she even knew what she was doing, her fingers had pressed the buttons and a BEEEP filled her ear.

“Identify yourself” 

She jumped a bit, surprised by the sudden female voice.

“Uhhh...I’m Elg, I got this phone from one of your members, A-Aynan I believe. I was t-thinking about joining and...yeah”

“Elg Elg...Yep, you’re there, Do you wanna be refereed to as Elg or another name?”

Her mouth opened...then closed. Why won’t she tell this woman her original name? Is it because of the bad memories? The scars? She was thrown down over and over again. And for what? She wasn’t born right? She got unlucky? She doesn’t feel sexual attraction? She's genderblind in romantic terms? They did this, they denied her a happy life.

…

No, I don’t wanna use my name. It’s too mattered by what happened in the past, it’ll only bring me down...Elg, Elg is an unscarred name, a name not brought down by deeds I can’t change. This is my second chance, my 1-up. I can start again. I can become someone who Pappa would be proud of, a person I would be proud of.

Her decision was made.

“Yeah, I’m Elg, y-you can call me Elg”

[juju-on-that-yeet]

The Dangers of Showbiz

Whumptober 2020 Day 16: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day Prompt: Shoot The Hostage

Summary: Wilford and Bim are taken hostage by the day's Warfstache TV contestants, determine to get revenge for Wilford's many murders. Wilford is perfectly willing to enjoy the show - until Bim gets caught in the crossfire.

Warnings: Gun violence, blood and injury, non-main character death

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober 2020 series)

Enjoy!

~

The newest crop of Warfstache Tonight contestants had seemed like ordinary, run-of-the-mill people in the background checks. Two men and one woman who were chosen to appear in today’s filming, Wilford hosting like usual and Bim helping out as an assistant. But the show had barely started before Wilford and Bim were knocked out and tied up beside each other, waking up to guns in their faces.

“Wh-What??” Bim exclaims, disoriented and terrified.

“It’s time for you to pay!” yells one of the men, bearded and holding a gun in Bim’s face.

“Both of you!” adds the lone woman, pointing her own gun at Wilford.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Wilford asks, annoyed, “This is so coming out of your paychecks.”

“Don’t play dumb,” sneers the second man, clean-shaven and standing close by, “You know what you’ve done.”

Wilford squints at the three people for several long seconds.

“Do I know any of you?” he asks, “How many of you did I date?”

“We’re the loved ones of the people you’ve murdered,” the bearded man growls, “Like my wife!”

“And my brother!” chimes in the woman.

“And my best friend,” finishes the clean-shaven man, “All of them and more, dead because of the two of you. Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you both.”

“I have family too!” Bim cries, trying to squirm out of the ropes tying him and Wilford up, “I have two little brothers!”

“I had two younger brothers,” the woman snaps, “Until this psychopath killed one of them!” She thrusts her gun at Wilford, who is no longer annoyed, but a little amused.

“That’s rather rude to say, isn’t it?” Wilford asks amicably, “Just because I shoot people doesn’t mean I’m crazy!”

“Wilford!” Bim hisses, eyes wide and fearful, “Why aren’t you stopping this?? You could free us and let us escape without a second thought!”

“I just wanna see where this goes, Bimmy!” Wilford replies with a grin, “Besides, a little excitement every now and then is good for you! Gets the ol’ heart pumping.”

“Pumping our blood out all over the floor, you mean,” Bim groans, hanging his head.

“Both of you quiet!” shouts the bearded man, pressing his gun into Bim’s forehead. Bim yelps.

“Look, this is fun, but it’s not going to last,” Wilford says, still smiling. “We’re not the only ones in this building, you know. Someone’s probably going to hear us.”

“Then they can go down, too,” mutters the woman.

“Yeah!” puts in the clean-shaven man, “If they try to stop us, we have plenty of bullets.”

“Hey, are we sure about that?” the bearded man asks, no longer looking as angry as he did a moment ago.

“Getting cold feet, old sport?” Wilford asks.

“We can’t let anyone stop us,” snarls the woman, looking away from Wilford to glare at the bearded man. “Isn’t that what we talked about? For our loved ones, for your wife, we’re willing to do anything.”

“Does that include causing the deaths of more innocents?” retorts the bearded man, pulling away from Bim, “Random people walking in on us don’t deserve to die.”

“If they defend these monsters, they deserve it!” chimes in the clean-shaven man. He points accusingly at the bearded man. “You’re gonna fuck up our whole plan! Don’t you care about avenging your wife!?”

“She wouldn’t have wanted this!!” the bearded man shouts back, leaving Bim to stride angrily to the other man, “She’d never want me to kill an innocent person, no matter the reason!”

“And what about these guys, huh?” asks the woman, leaving Wilford to join the men, “Are you gonna chicken out of killing them too, because of some holier-than-thou bullshit attitude!?”

The three people start arguing, waving their guns around, and Bim takes the opportunity to twist his hands, trying to free himself. The rope is around his chest, wrists, and ankles, as it is for Wilford. But if he struggles enough, maybe he can free a hand or two and help himself escape while the others are distracted. Wilford, meanwhile, watches the growing argument with interest.

“I can’t believe you’re not breaking us out of this,” Bim mutters as he rolls his wrists against the rope.

“I’m enjoying the show!” Wilford replies, flashing Bim a grin. “C’mon, Bimmy, watch with me! Maybe one of them’ll shoot the other. My money’s on the lady shooting Beardy there if he doesn’t buck up.”

“Look, Wil,” Bim huffs, working harder at the rope, “Some of us don’t come back in two days after we die. Some of us take weeks, and some of us don’t come back at all. And I’m not interested in finding out which one I am, not today.” He keeps rolling his wrist and shifting his hands against the rope. “I think I’m almost there, just–”

“You don’t think I’m in this!?” yells the bearded man, so forcefully Bim jumps and freezes. “You don’t think I wanna see these fuckers dead??” the man continues, “Then here, I’ll prove it!” He looks at the tied-up pair and raises his gun.

Aims it at Bim.

“Wai–!” Bim cries.

But the gun goes off, and the bullet lodges into Bim’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. He gasps as blood starts to darken his suit. Wilford stares at Bim, eyes wide.

“See? I’m in this,” the bearded man says, panting like it took physical exertion to shoot Bim, “I’m in this. Let’s just get it over with.”

Bim slumps back. Blood starts to pool beneath him. He breathes weakly, unable to speak or even look over at Wilford. His face is pale. Wilford keeps staring at him, a bewildered expression on his face.

“Alright, good,” says the woman, satisfied. She turns towards Wilford. “Let’s get it over with, then.”

Wilford’s eyes narrow and his face goes stoic, all the playfulness gone in an instant. He looks sharply to the woman.

“Actually, I think this joke has run its course,” he says, steely. He snaps his fingers and the ropes around him and Bim disappear, making the trio gasp and raise their weapons at him. Bim slumps over on his side, still bleeding. Wilford stands, glaring. “This was a fun diversion while it lasted, but you’ve all quite overstayed your welcome.” A knife appears in his hand, and his eyes turn pink. “I must admit you’ve been very rude guests, and very poor contestants.” He grins, but it’s not happy and playful anymore. It’s cruel, angry, bloodthirsty. “This’ll be coming out of more than just your paychecks.”

He charges.

The group try to defend themselves, but they don’t stand a chance. Even three against one, even two guns against a single knife, it’s impossible to stop Wilford. His knife stabs into the bearded man’s head, swipes across the clean-shaven man’s chest, and nearly slices the woman’s neck right through. When Wilford rushes to Bim’s side, he’s covered in a layer of blood. It matches Bim, as the pool of blood beneath him has only gotten bigger. He’s bone white and barely conscious, one hand limply holding his stomach, futilely trying to stem the bleeding.

“Don’t worry, Bimmy, I took care of them,” Wilford murmurs, scooping Bim into his arms, “Brace yourself, now, we’re going through my void to get to the clinic.”

Fortunately for Bim’s already-beleaguered stomach but less so for the rest of him, Bim is out cold before Wilford even reaches his void.

~~~

Bim wakes up in the clinic with bandages over his stomach and painkillers in his brain. He blinks his eyes open to see Wilford sitting beside him. Wilford brightens immediately upon seeing Bim’s eyes on him, leaning in closer.

“Bim, you’re awake!” he exclaims, “How do you feel? What a day we’ve had, huh? Hey, while you were sleeping off your surgery, I got you this!” Wilford thrusts a card into Bim’s hand. It’s a sympathy card. The front has a watercolor nature scene and the words “Deepest Condolences” in cursive. The inside has text that’s been crossed out, and “Sorry I got you shot” is written in instead. “I couldn’t find any cards that truly fit the situation, but consider this an apology from me to you.”

Bim stares at the card. He stares at Wilford. Wilford stares back, smiling brightly.

Bim whacks Wilford in the head with the card.

“Ow, hey! What gives? I apologized, didn’t I??”

“You almost got me killed, you giant pink idiot!!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t!”

“You just sat back and let them keep us tied up–!”

“It was all in good fun–!”

“A card is not enough to make up–”

“Ow, ow, stop hitting me with–”

“You – ohh, ow, fuck…”

“See, you’re making yourself worse! Just calm down and stop hitting me with that card!”

“How dare you tell Bim Trimmer to calm down, you fucking piece of–”

Before long, Dr. Iplier steps into the room, attracted by the arguing. The pair are too busy yelling at each other to notice him. Dr. Iplier wonders for a moment if he should intervene, but then decides that surely Bim is fine for the moment if he can argue so fiercely with Wilford. Satisfied at his reasoning – and glad to have given himself an out – he exits the room as quietly as he entered, leaving Bim and Wilford to continue shouting at each other.

[writersrealmbts]

Shattered Pieces: As Time Flies

Description: Time is a funny thing, and life makes it fly by faster than you can think with your mate, cubs, and all the other guys.

Warnings: If you haven’t guessed it by now, there’s a lot of stuff that happens and you’ll need to use your own judgement, if it starts to trigger you or something, just stop reading. It’s okay.

Posted: 11/15/19

Tags: hybrid bts, yoongi x reader

So much Angst/some fluff: 5,250 words

A/N: This isn’t my best quality work, but I had a lot to cover and just wanted to get it over with so I could move on. So, yeah. Have this pathetic excuse for a chapter.

“I can’t be confined to bed, I’ve got four kits, a puppy, a mate and four other men that rely on me to a degree they don’t even understand themselves,” You argued with the doctor, but you knew it was futile before you even tried.

“Look, if you want your kittens to make it, you’re going to have to limit your movement to less than three-hundred steps a day. No stairs, no lifting, no bending, if you aren’t walking, you’re sitting.”

Yeah, Yoongi wasn’t going to let you out of his sight.

“And you need to limit the stress in your environment.”

You tilted your head. “Four kits, a puppy, a mate, and four other men and you want me…” You started laughing. “To limit the stress in my environment?”

“If you want your kittens to survive, yes.”

You shook your head, not having any other response. “I want my mate.”

“Miss—”

“Let. Him. In.” You gritted out, glaring at them.

The doctor finally nodded, and they backed out.

Yoongi rushed in, quickly coming to your side but hovering just before touching you, as if afraid he’ll hurt you. “What’d they say?”

“I’m okay, and the baby is okay, but I’m on bed-rest, and I need to reduce the stress in my environment.”

“Or?”

“Or we might lose the baby,” You whispered, shuddering.

He quickly pressed in to scent you, obviously distressed as well, but it was comforting to have him by your side. “So…it was just stress?”

You shrugged, tucking your head into his neck for safety.

His hand lightly brushed over your stomach. “I know it’ll drive you crazy, but we’ll figure it out, okay?

You nodded. Then you frowned. “Can you get that doctor back in here?”

“Um…I can try?” He looked at you worriedly.

“Please do. She said something, and I…I’m not sure I heard her right. I was upset and I wanted you.” You fidgeted.

He nodded, and quickly kissed you a few times before heading out to find the doctor.

Hoseok came back with him and the nurse that had been with the doctor.

“Sorry, he’s with another patient right now, I understand you had questions?”

“She said kittens, plural, I was under the understanding that I was carrying one? There were no multiples in the ultrasound,” You said carefully.

The nurse’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

You looked at him expectantly.

Yoongi’s eyes were huge.

“We…saw five when we did an ultrasound upon your arrival, which isn’t unusual for cat hybrids, especially your particular breed,” He said, then looked over Yoongi quickly. “And your mate’s. I thought you knew, that’s why you passed out, you were suffering from deficiencies related to your pregnancy as well as stress.”

Hoseok caught Yoongi before he hit the floor, but he looked pretty stunned as well.

“Five?!”

———

Jin stared. “Five?! You’re going to have quintuplets?”

“Apparently it’s a fairly normal occurrence for mine and yoongi’s breeds of hybrid,” You grumbled, curling up more.

He shook his head. “And Hoseok’s the only other one that knows?”

“Yeah. We haven’t called the others yet. We aren’t sure how to tell them. One was going to be hard enough, but five?”

“And you’re considered a risky pregnancy now?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Strict bed rest.”

“Has Yoongi said anything yet?”

“Incoherent babble. Hoseok’s walking him around the block and making him drink a bottle of water before bringing him back. You have excellent timing.” You sighed and fussed at the blankets. “But where’s Jungkook?”

“When we heard you were at the hospital, I came here, he want back to the house.” He looked away, fidgeting.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered.

He looked back at you, confused.

You shook your head. “This probably didn’t help you much.”

He smiled a bit. “I told you. I’m okay today. I’m not that worried about the future of having five more kits to take care of. It’s just…Jungkook.”

You pointed to the extra pillow and he handed to you so that you could curl up a little more comfortably while looking at him. Waiting for him to continue.

“I went this time because of the interview, but also because I was worried about hurting him. He was crying before I got back to the apartment, after you called. Not when I got there, but I could tell he had been. He’s so strong, but I feel like he gets more fragile with every passing week and I can’t help but worry that I’m the one doing that to him. I tried to push him, to take care of himself, especially when I was having good days. But he always came back to me, and I…I can’t….” He sighed. “If I become the reason he breaks, I think it might kill me.”

You bit your lip, letting the silence stretch because you knew he wasn’t done talking it out.

He looked at the ceiling. “You know, it’s stupid. I snuck out because I really just…I wanted to get drunk and hook up with someone and just be…normal? I get to the damn bar, and all I can hear is Jungkook saying that depressed people shouldn’t drink because alcohol is a depressant and telling me we should go to the arcade instead because gaming doesn’t need alcohol to be fun, so I go there and I’m bored because I don’t have anyone to play the games with. I tried to give him space, and yet he’s still in my head, chirping that I should try eating good food to cheer myself up but it’s past midnight and the arcade is closing and I can’t think of where to go to find good food so instead I go back to the apartment, and sitting on the counter is ramyun and Jungkook loves ramyun and makes it really well. But he’s not there. He’s not there, and I know why, and it’s my fault because I tried to be a good…whatever I am and make sure he took care of himself. But I’m weak. I hated being there without him. I hated it. What’s wrong with me?”

“Um…kind of…sounds like you’re in—”

“Don’t say it!” Jin said, looking scared. “I know where you’re going with that sentence and don’t. Don’t…I can’t be…I…I practically raised him…he’s my brother….”

“At least you’re not actually related?” You pointed out.

He groaned. “Stop. This isn’t happening.”

“What’s not happening?” Hoseok asked, leading Yoongi in, the latter of which walked zombie-like to your side and crawled on to spoon you like he didn’t know what else to do with himself.

“Nothing,” You answered instead. “Has he made sense yet?”

“Well, he muttered something about five mouths being a lot to feed on a journalist’s paycheck, but that’s about it.” Hoseok sat beside Jin, resting an arm around Jin’s shoulders.

Jin leaned into the touch, holding your gaze. “Do you want us to leave you two alone to talk?”

“Nah, I think he’s going to sleep and I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. Keep me company. Help me figure out what to say to everyone else.”

Hoseok shrugged. “Probably just rip the bandage off. Preferably while they’re sitting so that we don’t have to worry about head injuries.”

You sighed and nodded. “Do I have to do it?”

“Nope. We’ll make Yoongi do it tonight when we go home.”

“Not leaving,” Yoongi growled.

“You don’t have a choice, hyung, no visitors after hours. We’ll be back as soon as we can and she’s getting released in the morning. They just want to keep her under observation for the night. Besides, I think we have to move some things around if she’s not allowed to use the stairs.”

Yoongi cussed under his breath, kissing your nape. “I’m not gonna sleep.”

“You should try to—” You started arguing, but he cut you off.

“I won’t be able to. Not while you’re here.” He growled a little, but it was more upset than grumpy.

You rubbed his arm, sighing softly. “I won’t either, but that’s because this place smells and they’ve scheduled me to have extra medicine and crap in the middle of the night.”

“Hospitals are the worst,” Yoongi grumbled.

“We’ll have to deal with it for the kittens, there’s no way I’m having a home-birth. Not with five. Too risky.”

He shuddered. “Agreed. But I’ve heard there are special birthing clinics nowadays. Maybe we can go to one of those instead?”

“We can look into it,” You agreed.

——

Apparently, Heiran hadn’t released Jin since he stepped foot in the house, but she did once you were settled into the bed in yours and Yoongi’s room, which had been entirely relocated into the empty bedroom next to Misuk’s nursery on the first floor that had previously been used for storage.

All of your cubs were curled up around you that first day you were back, and quite often throughout the weeks and months that followed, no matter where you ended up.

Things were crazy, but the guys had really stepped up, despite their own lives getting busier.

VRM Fashion had started trending like crazy and Yoongi had started helping them for some extra cash since they were always short on photographers. Jin and Jungkook sometimes got roped into modeling for them as well when their male models fell-through.

Jin also had a part-time job at a company, and it wasn’t great but he liked having a job again.

Since it was summer, the kids didn’t really have lessons, but you worked with Jungkook and Hoseok to make sure the kids brains were stimulated from your stuck position. Sitting, laying down, and wishing you could walk more than three hundred steps.

The nursery looked crowded with five cribs, and the boys were already stock-piling diapers.

Yoongi had found and arranged for you to go to a special birthing house for cat-hybrids, just as medically equipped as a hospital with less germs and more specialized knowledge. When you met with them, they didn’t seem at all surprised at you being pregnant with quintuplets, but they took the concerns presented by your doctors in stride before showing you one of the nesting-rooms.

Summer flew by as your stomach inflated to an unreal size and five little bodies kicked at your stomach.

You weren’t even surprised when you went into labor early, getting to the clinic and nesting with the blankets and such that Yoongi remembered to bring from home.

One was stillborn.

But the other four were alive. Two boys. Two girls. The stillborn had been another girl.

You had known it was a risk with having multiples, and with your condition throughout your pregnancy.

“We never thought of names,” You whispered the first morning after, as you and Yoongi carefully held them all after finishing feeding.

He just purred in amusement.

Yerin and Soyoung for the girls, Cheolmin and Hyunseok for the boys.

Hyunseok had a heart defect, and the doctors were worried about his chances.

Jowoon was enamored with their existence, while Heiran was confused, but happy that she could hug you again without your stomach getting in the way.

Jihun was your helper, always willing to hold one, just like he did with Misuk, who was oblivious to this change.

He held your hand tightly while they buried Hyunseok.

“I should be more upset,” You whispered to your therapist one day. They’d forced you back in June to meet with a therapist to try and help reduce your stress levels, and you’d chosen the one Jin recommended. “I know I should. I lost two of my babies. I have five cribs, and three babies. I buried my baby after two weeks with him. But…even though I’m sad, and I wish that he’d made it, I’m also so happy because of my other three, and my cubs. Misuk is talking up a storm and she’s been telling babble stories to the babes and it’s adorable. And Jowoon is such an eager learner, and Heiran’s and Jihun are growing up so well. And the guys, and Yoongi, they’re doing well. Yoongi…he’s more affected by it than me….”

“Don’t compare what you perceive his level of grief to be to your own,” She suggested gently. “Do you feel at peace with Hyunseok’s passing?”

You nodded. “I do. We knew that he could die, and…I think he would have been in more pain than I could bear if he survived infancy. And…my stillborn daughter…I knew it was a risk, and I knew I was lucky that the four were born alive given my condition in early June. The risk is always higher for twin and triplets, how much more so with quintuplets.” You sighed.

“Have you told Yoongi your thoughts on all of this?”

You nodded.

“And how did he react?”

“He listened. He was really quiet. Then he nodded, told me he loved me, kissed me on the forehead and didn’t really say anything else about it.”

“And the other boys? How did they take Hyunseok’s passing?”

You shrugged. “They were upset.”

“Do you feel things aren’t right?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “There are other things that play into it, too. Like Jin and Jungkook. I’m pretty sure Jin is in love with Jungkook, but he’s trying not to be and so he keeps pushing Jungkook away and then pulling him close again and Jungkook’s just worried every time he’s pushed away because he’s oblivious, and then Taehyung is dating someone new and Namjoon doesn’t approve so they’ve been fighting on and off, and….”

“And you’re trying to fix everything again even though you know you can’t?”

You nodded. “It’s been a year since I met all of them, you know, and everything is so drastically different from then.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one thing, I was a little terrified of bunnies because I’d been teaching a school full of them before going to work for them as a tutor and I didn’t have much fur on my tail from it getting abused by said bunnies. They were still reeling from the loss of their brother and his wife. Heiran wasn’t speaking. I was…kind of lost. But I’m not now. I’ve never felt more…fulfilled.”

“Everyone grieves differently. You’ve accepted his death, and that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt, it just means you understand why it hurts. You’re at peace with it, and that’s okay. You need to talk to Yoongi, because I think you need to have clarity on what is going through his head. If he’s not ready to talk about it, don’t push him. As for the others, it’s not your job to fix them. They’ll figure things out eventually, especially if they’re as close as you describe.”

You sighed and nodded.

Taehyung looked up as you walked into the living room later that evening. He was holding Soyoung. “Hey, how was your appointment?”

“Fine, mostly just me sorting my own thoughts.” You went and sat beside him, kissing the top of your babe’s head.

“Are you okay?” He asked, sounding more concerned.

You smiled. “I’m fine. Really. I’m actually more worried about you and Namjoon.”

“Oh, we’re good. He was right. I dumped her.” He shrugged, looking down at Soyoung.

You huffed out a laugh. “Figures.”

“I’m more concerned about Jin. He’s dropped off the face of the earth again. For all of us. He’s not answering calls, he wasn’t at work, and he’s not at the apartment.”

You pulled out your phone and quickly called Jin.

Taehyung looked surprised when it actually rang.

“Hello?”

“Jin? Where are you?” You asked, leaving Taehyung’s side so he couldn’t eavesdrop.

“Carriage house.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Didn’t want to face people. Didn’t have anywhere else to go where they wouldn’t look for me.”

“What happened?”

“Got fired. Again.”

You waited, hearing something more in the silence. “And?”

“I got drunk. I slept with someone.”

You bit your cheek.

“It was way worse. It was really bad.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m coming over.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m coming over,” You repeated and then hung up. “Jungkook?”

He hopped in with Jowoon on his shoulders. “Yeah?”

“Come on. I need you to help me with Jin.”

“Hyung? You’ve heard from him?”

“She called him and he answered,” Taehyung said, sounding a little bitter.

“Because I made him promise me he would always answer my calls. Jowoonie, I need to steal Jungkookie.”

“M’kay mumma,” He murmured happily and bounded over to Taehyung, crawling up onto the couch and purring over the baby.

Jungkook followed you. “Where is he? Is he okay? What’s wrong?”

“He got fired again, and…” You turned so that you were facing him. “He was hurting, and he got drunk. He slept with someone and he’s not…he’s not coping.”

Jungkook’s jaw set. “Where is he.”

“Carriage house.”

He pushed past you, ignoring your warnings, staying ahead of you the whole time. He marched into the carriage house room, bursting in and startling Jin, strode over to the elder and tackled him in a hug onto the bed. “Stupid. Stupid bunny. Stupid hyung-y bunny. Need to stop worrying me.”

You watched from a few feet away, suddenly worrying you were intruding.

“You told him?” Jin whispered, looking devastated.

“She can’t help you on her own, hyung. She’s only one person.”

Jin searched your face.

You shook your head. No. You didn’t tell Jungkook that Jin was in love with him.

Jungkook saw the exchange. “Or is there something besides you sleeping with some stranger after getting fired that you want to tell me?”

Jin started shivering.

You went over and covered them both up with blankets. You kissed Jin’s forehead. “Tell him, Jin. Please.”

Jungkook looked between the two of you, and he pulled Jin even closer, starting to look scared. “Hyung. You’re not sick, right? Oh God, please tell me you’re not dying.”

“No, I’m…I’m not ill. I don’t have any life-threatening diseases.” Jin quickly reassured. “It’s…something else.”

“Maybe I should—” You started saying softly but Jin looked up at you desperately, shaking his head.

“Please don’t go.”

You took a deep breath, then nodded.

Jungkook looked confused. “Hyung? What’s wrong?”

“Jungkook…you…you know that I’m….”

Jungkook blinked blankly at him.

“Bi?”

Jungkook nodded, blinking cutely as he did.

Jin seemed lost on how to proceed.

Jungkook was every oblivious. “Of course, hyung. You’ve never hidden it, or maybe I was just always aware of it. Is that what’s bugging you? You know I’m bi, too. We’ve talked about Jimin’s ass in equal measures with his mate’s before.”

“That’s…no…okay, can you let go of me so we can sit up and talk like normal people because this feels weird and I’m already….”

Jungkook frowned. “Nope. Not letting go.”

Jin groaned. “You never make things easy.”

“But you still love me!” Jungkook sang.

Jin was frozen, looked frozen, and stopped playfully pushing Jungkook away.

“Hyung? What’s wrong?”

You rolled your eyes to the ceiling. You knew Jungkook could be hare-brained but this took the cake.

“Yeah, Jungkook. I do. I do and that’s the problem,” Jin finally said, his voice quiet and troubled.

Jungkook looked even more bewildered. “You loving me is a problem? Why?”

“Because I don’t just love you as family, Kookie.” Jin finally extricated himself and curled up, hugging his knees.

You knew he wanted you there in case Jungkook rejected him or freaked out, but you really felt like you were intruding on something delicate.

“But…you love me? You love me but not as family, but that doesn’t make sense because we are family…how can you love me then?”

Jin looked at him in disbelief, then at you, completely lost.

“Jungkook, how do people normally love each other outside of family or friend capacity?” You asked. Penny in the air?

“Well, in a mating capac…ity…” He trailed off, staring at Jin who was back to hiding his face in his knees.

The penny dropped.

His eyes widened and he swallowed. “Oh.”

Jin was trembling, each breath shaking as he waited for a further reaction.

“OH.” Jungkook was putting everything together now, and he looked…startled? Not a good sign.

You clenched a fist, the silence that stretched after killing you a little.

“You…you’re IN love with me…” Jungkook said after a moment.

God, you could just imagine throttling him for taking so long to react in a way that could give Jin some sort of sign.

“How long?”

Jin just shook his head, too upset to form words.

“A few months,” You answered instead.

Jungkook mouthed the words months a couple dozen times, brow furrowed.

It was really quiet after that.

“Get out,” Jin whispered finally, curling in on himself even more. “Please get out.”

Jungkook snapped back, eyes widening again. “Hyung?”

“I get it, Jungkook. It never crossed your mind, now please get out because it hurts, and I tried to make sure it would never come to this, I tried to push it away but I couldn’t and I did something that really fucking hurt and I can’t stand to sit here in silence knowing that you don’t feel the same so get out!” Jin sobbed. “Please. Please go.”

You winced at how broken he sounded. You shouldn’t have interfered.

Jungkook was still staring at Jin. “But—”

Jin got up and rushed to the bathroom, closing and locking the door.

You closed your eyes as the door slammed, sighing. “You should head back to the main house, Jungkook.”

“What? No!” Jungkook looked between you and the bathroom.

“Jungkook, I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have gone against his wishes in the first place when I brought you in here, please just go?” You whispered, guilt rushing through you.

Something set in his gaze.

“Hey!” You squawked as he threw you over his shoulder, then out of the room, closing and locking the door.

“Not until I’ve talked with him! Don’t expect us for dinner!” He called through the door.

You stared at it for a while, wondering what to do, but frankly, hadn’t you already interfered enough? Jungkook at least loved Jin as a brother, so he wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt Jin. If he did, Jin might go zombie-apocalypse-survivor on his ass and go looking for the real Jungkook.

You left them to it, going to find your mate.

He was laying the last of the babies down in the crib with the other two (a surefire way of getting all three of them to nap soundly for a little longer), but he looked up at you and smiled. “Hey.” Then his nose wrinkled.

You flashed him a smile. “Jin.”

He nodded.

“So…you guys moved the spare cribs out.”

He nodded again, a little more slowly. “I thought it was time. Hobi cried for an hour before he actually helped me take them apart and put them away. But that’s so…him.”

“You’re okay with this?” You asked.

He met your gaze. He looked tired, but his gaze was clear. “Are you not?”

“I’m okay with it. I’m going to be a little sad either way, but at least there’s a little more room this way.” You bent down to scoop Heiran out from under one of the cribs.

She purred, nuzzling up to you before skipping out of the room.

“So, Jin?”

“All I know I can say right now is that he got fired again. I don’t know why yet because he and Jungkook are…talking.”

“About how Jin’s in love with Jungkook?”

“It took a good ten minutes for Jungkook to figure out that’s what was being said, and he was too quiet for another eight minutes. So I imagine he’s now doing a lot of talking while Jin’s still locked away in the bathroom trying to get away from him.”

“Come on, tell me the rest,” He said, closing the nursery door and then guiding you to sit on his lap. “Jin knows you don’t hide anything from me. He’s already told me he’s grateful that even though you do tell me that I don’t mention anything about it.”

You shrugged, resting your head on his shoulder. “He was upset after getting fired, got drunk and slept with someone and it left a really bad taste in his mouth. I think he feels like he betrayed Jungkook even though he and Jungkook aren’t an item, and I think his partner for the act wasn’t a good one. And I’d just gotten back from my appointment so I didn’t think I could help Jin on my own, and so I grabbed Jungkook because he really is the best at helping Jin, but he caught on to the fact that there was something more to everything that he didn’t know and I…I asked Jin to tell him because it’s been months and it’s hurting both of them. Jungkook doesn’t eat when Jin pushes him away, you know. Not even pumpkin and he loves pumpkin. But Jungkook didn’t get it, so Jin’s panicking because if he tries to back out now it might push Jungkook to understand and if he keeps waiting then Jungkook will probably understand and I finally gave Jungkook the final push to understanding but then he just sat there without saying anything and I just…I wanted to throttle him.”

“And you left them alone together?”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice. Jin told Jungkook to get out, and went and hid in the bathroom and I tried to get Jungkook out as well but instead he picked me up and threw me out and locked the door and I just couldn’t bring myself to try and interfere more.” You groaned in frustration, rubbing your face against his neck.

“Y/n,” He whispered softly, and you just sort of melted into his embrace. “It’s okay. It needed to happen. You’re right, they were both being hurt by it. It’ll be okay. Jungkook wouldn’t purposely hurt Jin.”

You nodded. “Are we okay?”

“Of course,” He answered, purring softly. “Did you think we weren’t?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure of much these days.”

He tilted your chin up and kissed you. “I’ll make sure to remind you how much I love you, then. Every day. I’ve just been tired between work and the kids.”

“And the guys fighting.”

“Like I said, between work and the kids.”

You laughed and he grinned at you.

“But Joon and Taehyung-ah made up earlier, so that’ll help.”

“Mom?” Jihun’s voice carried down the hall.

You kissed Yoongi again and stepped out of the nursery. “Yes, Jihun?”

He bounded over with his notebook and showed you a math problem. “Hoseok-hyung is not a good math teacher.”

You laughed softly, and took the notebook, guiding him back to the school room. “I’ll help you.”

Hoseok was frowning at the math textbook, looking lost. “I thought I knew how to do this.”

“Apparently you don’t. It’s okay, I do. Scoot, go find Heiran, she still hasn’t done her history lesson,” You instructed, nudging him out of the chair so you could sit with Jihun.

He nodded and went off, still shaking his head.

You settled into teaching Jihun until he seemed to understand what he was doing, then assigned him some problems to work on. Making sure to help him the first couple times, nudging him in the right direction before purring and kissing the top of his head and leaving him to the rest.

Jin was on the couch with an ice-pack on his eye, wrapped in Taehyung’s embrace as the younger glared at Jungkook, who looked exasperated.

“I told you! It was an accident! We’re not fighting!”

“Then why does Jin reek of distress!”

“Maybe—” You cut in sharply, “—because you two are yelling around him and he’s had a bad day.”

Both of their mouths clicked shut while Jin threw you a grateful look.

Yoongi brought in a glass of water and some pills. “Here, Jin-hyung.”

Jin popped the pills, then took the glass and downed half of it. “Thanks. Get me a crowbar?”

“Hmm, better get the car-jack instead,” Yoongi replied, smirking.

“Excellent idea—”

“Hyungie!” Taehyung protested, clinging more tightly to Jin.

Jowoon came running back inside, followed by Namjoon, clutching a bunch of colorful leaves and running straight up to Jin with a grin that took up his whole face.

“How pretty!” Jin gushed after elbowing Tae in the ribs and freeing himself. “Put them on the table and have Uncle Joonie help you find a big book.”

Jowoon nodded. “Uncle Joonie! We got-sta find big book!” He slapped the leaves on the table and ran toward the stairs.

“Jowoon! Your coat and shoes!” Namjoon protested, throwing Jin a betrayed look as he ran after the boy. Jowoon was the fastest three year old you knew and he’d entered a stage of completely boundless energy, so you doubted that Namjoon had had a moment to rest ever since going outside however long ago that happened.

You sat next to Jungkook. “All good?” You asked under your breath.

He nodded. “Mostly. Still a few things to work out, but those will take time.”

“And the black eye?”

“I tried to catch him when he tripped and misjudged the distance,” He answered sheepishly. “I still can’t believe you figured it out before me.”

“I know everything that goes on in this house, it’s only when I leave it for a while that I miss the newest updates on things.” You looked around. “Misuk?”

“With Heiran and Hobi-hyung. She saw a book and cuddles and mewled until Heiran started fighting Hobi-hyung.”

You smiled fondly, but it faded to dread when all of you heard noises coming through the baby monitor.

Taehyung got closer to it, listening carefully. “Not crying.”

Yoongi quickly pulled up the camera monitor. “They’re all still asleep.”

“Thank God,” You breathed, slumping back. You found yourself staring at the leaves. “It’s already fall. How is it already fall?”

“Well, you were pregnant for forever,” Taehyung provided helpfully.

You stuck your tongue out at him. “I had them early, thank you very much!”

He just laughed.

Namjoon came back with a big book, following Jowoon who was hopping to move instead of walking. “This kid.”

“Hey, what’s the plan for Thanksgiving?” Jungkook asked perking up.

“Well, I’m assuming you want pumpkin pie.”

He nodded emphatically.

“And obviously we’ll have a turkey, but we’re not having four different types of meat this year. That was way too chaotic. Turkey and ham, any complainers can find food elsewhere. I thought we might want to have soup this year instead. I could do squash soup, or potato soup, but I figure it should be a vegetarian option for you buns, and Hoseok.”

“Oh! Can we have mushroom soup?” Hoseok asked, carrying a sleepy looking Misuk.

Heiran leaped onto the couch and into Jin’s lap, snuggling up to him.

You nodded. “Sure.”

Yoongi pulled you back to your feet and sat down where you had been before pulling you to sit on his lap. “You know what I’m thankful for, right?”

You hummed. “I have a few guesses.”

He grinned and kissed you.

--

Previous Part.  Next Part. Masterpost.  Masterlist.  

Tagging: @kimmie113080 , @jungshaking, @ephemeral-mindset, @young-yellkie​, @alex--awesome--22​, @pearylove​, @bryvada​, 

@moxxie84 (Couldn’t tag you)

[mandadoration]

hound - iv.

summary: While Mando is refuelling the Razor Crest and looking for information about your quarry, you decide to venture into the markets to quell your boredom. Caught up in admiring the trinkets, you end up coming back to the hangar much later than when Mando told you to be back by. He expresses some concerns to you.

word count: 1,646

pairing: mandalorian x mandalorian!reader

warnings: swearing

chapters: i | ii | iii | iv

“Time frame?” you ask him quietly. Talking has become… somewhat easier around Mando, but you try to keep your voice down so that only he can hear you. 

“Mechanic said around three hours. Says my hyperdrive is, in her words, “bad as three week old banthu milk”,” he answers dryly. You snort and nod to say, Sounds about right. There have been instances where you have nearly dropped out of hyperspace mid-flight, which did make you anxious. You did not want to end up halfway in some random planet or planetoid. 

You and Mando had stopped at some scavenging planet to refuel and tune up the wonky hyperdrive before honing in to the bounty. He collects some of his things as you stand up from your seat. It’s hot on this planet, and you feel like you’re cooking under all your armor. “I’m gonna have a look around, ask about our other bounties,” he says, slinging his rifle on. “You can come if you want, or just come back here in three hours. Up to you.” You consider it, but ultimately motion for him to go ahead without you. He nods and heads down the ramp to scout while you think about what you can do. 

You did spot a market a mile away when you were flying down. Maybe you’d have a look around.

--

Mando knows that he looks crazy as he speedwalks through the town calling out your nickname. But the sun has already gone low in the sky, and you haven’t returned. In fact, it’s been nearly an hour since the time he told you to be back by. It’s unbecoming of you; you’re usually a stickler for keeping a tight schedule, and it worries him. 

Two elderly ladies stop him and ask if he’s lost his pet when he calls you by your moniker, but Mando just shakes his head and keep darting through the streets looking for the glint of you beskar armor. His mind runs through all the possible situations you could be in. 

A) You have been indisposed by another hunter because you had a bounty on you.

B) Someone had taken off your helmet, and you had fled the planet already. 

C) Someone decided to exact revenge on you for something he didn’t know and were currently being held hostage. 

Or D) You were standing at a stall quietly conversing with a vendor and paying her a few credits for some kind of bauble. 

Mando clenches his jaw and marches up to you, grabbing your arm. “Where have you been?” he hisses. You awkwardly motion with the hand that was holding the little trinket to the market around you. He sighs, and he swears he feels a headache coming on. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The vendor, a little Zeltron elder, skin a washed out red, smiles knowingly. 

“Is this your husband?” she asks delightedly, accent slipping through. She claps her hands together. “Yes! Very well! Tall, strong, no doubt.” She reaches across her booth to peer closer at Mando, searching for something before she nods approvingly. “Matching armor sets,” she continues gleefully. Mando is taken aback, but you just roll your eyes. 

“Not my husband,” you say gruffly. You tuck away the rest of your credits. The expression on the vendor doesn’t fade, but instead, her smile widens even more. 

“Ah, so your boyfriend! Do not worry, I have something just for you,” she said firmly. She ducks under the table and rummages around before pulling out an amulet and shoving it into your hands. “Take this!”

“I don’t have the credits,” you say gently, trying to put it back in her hands, but she wraps your fingers around it and draws back out of your reach. 

“Free of charge,” she insists. She looks pleased when you finally nod and slip it into your bag. 

“What’s it for?” Mando asks. You hope that means that he isn’t going to be mad at you, but you know he’s just making sure it was safe and not some sort of explosive or tracking device. 

“Virility! To make sure you make strong, healthy babies!” You choke and glance at Mando, who, you’re sure, looks equally surprised under his helmet. She leans in close so that only you can hear. “And to strengthen your bond. Very old magic,” she adds, pointing the amulet. When you look at it, it appears to be two lovers in a winding embrace, wrapped around each other so tightly that you can’t distinguish who’s limb is who’s. It’s tarnished, but there are spots that appears to have been rubbed so that it’s shiny. Before you can say anything, Mando pulls you away and she winks knowingly at you and turns to address a bewildered customer who had been watching the whole ordeal.

On your trek back, Mando doesn’t say anything to you, and being the “talker” that you are, you don’t say anything either. Which made for a very awkward and tense walk. At the hangar, Mando tosses the mechanic their credits and stomps up the ramp. 

“What’s his problem?” the mechanic asks. You just sigh and shrug before trailing after him, hoping that he’s cooled off.

But at the console, Mando isn’t any better. He practically punches the buttons and jerks the ship up, forcing you to take a seat lest you want to roll backwards out of the cockpit. When you’re stable in the air, you clear your throat and pointedly look at him. He ignores you in favor of putting in the coordinates for your bounty. You clear your throat again. 

“If you wanna say something, use your words,” he spits out. You scowl. So he’s gonna play it like that, huh? He’s counting on you not wanting to talk, but if he’s acting like a child, you have to be mature--. “Oh wait, you can’t,” he says. Low blow. You’re fuming at his cold shoulder. Just because you had lost track of time doesn’t mean that he had to treat you so harshly. You were his equal- not a child. You get up and dig into your bag, and toss the item you purchased at him, a different amulet, priding in the metallic clank as it hits his helmet. Mando turns in his seat, snatches it up, and prepares to throw it back at you in retaliation until he realizes what it is. His breath catches in his throat as he holds it to the light. 

It’s a mythosaur skull necklace. The mark of the Mandalores. Made of solid beskar. Why did the old woman have this?

“For you,” you snarl at him. “But it seems like I wasted my money.” You turn and leave the cockpit. He hear him follow after you, boots clanking as you descend into the lower hull, tossing your bag and weapons on your makeshift cot. 

“Dog,” Mando says. You ignore him and go about fumbling with your equipment. You hadn’t actually expected him to follow you, so you have to make yourself busy. You turn to escape into the refresher, but you walk straight into his chestplate. 

“Move,” you order, but he stays put. He calls your nickname again, and your clench your fists. “Move.”

“Udesii,” he says, and you think he is actually socially inept because that’s what Mandalores use to tell their literal hounds to calm down. You throw a punch at his helmet and knock him down, ignoring how your knuckles throb. 

“Make no mistake: I’m not a fucking dog,” you say to him, voice low. “You can call me that all you want, but I am not here to be at your beck and call, and certainly not something that you can control.” He sits up. You raise a finger at him to continue your yelling, but instead he grabs your hand and pulls you down on top of him. You have half a mind to shoot him. “Hey--!” 

He murmurs your name. Your real name, and you freeze. Sure, you’ve told him your name some nights ago in this very ship, but he hasn’t actually said it outloud. You draw back wait with bated breath for Mando to say something, staring into the visor of his helmet. You know he’s doing that same. He swallows. 

“Thank you,” he says. You flick your eyes down at the mythosaur amulet sitting on top of his armor. “I was just… worried.” If you hadn’t been travelling with him for weeks now, it would’ve sounded forced, but you know he’s being sincere. “You’re usually on time. For everything.” You sigh. It’s true, but you just haven’t really had any time to yourself since working with Mando. While you don’t have much free time since you’re chasing down your next paycheck, you had become accustomed to being alone. Having someone worry about you was… new. Not unwelcome, though. You get up and Mando follows your movement, helmet trained on yours. You hold out a hand for him to grasp, and he hauls himself up. When he gets up, he jostles you, and something falls out of your pocket. 

It’s the amulet of the two lovers that the old woman gave to you. Mando bends down to pick it up and turns it in his hands. He hums. 

“This thing is old,” he notes. “Looks like it’s been passed down through many hands, judging by the looks of it.” He hands it back to you and tilts his head. “What did that lady say to you? Back at the market?” 

“Just that it was valuable,” you lie. Mando accepts your answer and goes back up to the cockpit. You don’t know why you lied to him. 

And to strengthen your bond, her voice whispers in your mind. Very old magic. 

You tuck the amulet back into your pocket and go up the ladder to join him. 

--

Hound Tag List: @knockbeforeyouspeak​

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows VII

Chapter VII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually) 

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Series Masterlist

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

I gently stretched my neck side to side hearing it creak. As much as I was glad I was back to work, this was not what I had in mind.  Here I sat at my desk, staring at my computer, studying for a job that I was probably never going to do. They pretty much just assigned me anything to keep me busy, I had already done all of my paperwork, and Clint's, along with completing my two-hour max of physical therapy each day. I still have at least two weeks of desk work before they even consider sending me anywhere near the field.

I sighed, this website wasn't getting me anywhere. People went to school for this and I still have no idea what realm this job pertains to. For all I know these words could be in Russian, and I'm supposed to know Russian.

I finally gave up on searching the internet and decided to email the guy that actually does this job.

From: y/nl/n@shield.com

To: ichabodlaime@shield.com

Hey Ike,

Do you happen to have a manual on aerospace tech or something on the controls of the Quinjet?

Thanks,

Agent l/n

I stared at the email for a couple of minutes, sure everything was spelled right. Now, Ike was a decent dude, but he was one of those guys if ya know what I mean. Little pathetic, little ignorant, little fussy, but the difference from him and all the other those guys, is he actually knows how to do his job; he does it darn well too.

He didn't answer back right away, so I continued my search on the web, not wanting to put too many favors out there before he replied.  I found what I thought was a decent website after a while, they had most of the 'fix the plane' words in layman terms, so that was nice. This may not be my area of expertise, but there was one thing I knew for sure: its gonna be a long couple of weeks.

On my, what I believe to be, sixty-fourth website, hair from the lower back all the way to my neck stood up one by one. My gut gave a little twinge as well. I slowly turned my eyes to my monitor, just at the right angle to see behind me. A scrawny looking guy was standing right in the doorway of my office. I took a deep breath when I noticed that he wasn't looking at my head, but met my eyes in the reflection of my monitor.

I spun slowly in my chair to face him since he knew I knew he was there. There was a moment of awkward silence before I decided to break it.

"Hey Ike"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, "You planning on taking my job l/n?"

I pursed my lips, blinking. "Well, I'm glad to see you are having a good day too, Ike."

He frowned, "I mean it l/n"

"No! No, since I'm in time out they assigned me to learn about your job. It won't be enough to kick you out, trust me. They're just keeping me busy." He seemed to relax a little bit. "Who knows? Maybe I could help you out on a mission or somethin'"

He gave me a dorky smile that only a few could love. I was not one of those few.

He sighed, "Yeah I'd like to see that sometime. " He looked down at the floor thinking for a second, "Uh, yeah I have a book I think you could learn something from..."

I raised my eyebrows at him, asking him where it was since it wasn't in his hands.

"Unfortunately it's back at home. You want to meet tomorrow so you could take a look at it over the weekend?"

It was only then I remembered that it was Friday. "Uh, yeah, sure. Ten o'clock would be the best time for me... Do you have a preference for a place?"

"The Starbucks on 17th Street work?"

I gave a tight smile, "Sounds like a plan"

I walked into the shop five minutes early, my parents always did teach me to arrive early. I scanned my gaze over the occupants, looking for Ike. I tried not to breathe in too deeply, the smell of coffee never really was my favorite, and it mingling with the other more pleasant smells was leaving my head spinning. I finally thought I spotted him when I saw the man in my sights was sitting with another.

The same sensation from yesterday came over me even more powerfully, causing me to find where the eyes were coming from. The staring was coming from the man sitting with who I thought was Ike. We locked gazes for a moment when the other man turned around, only for me to find that it was Ike. He waved me over to their table.

"I didn't know you were going to bring someone along, almost made me think it wasn't you" I tried to sound light-hearted despite the chilling feeling before. Usually feeling eyes on me wasn't that unsettling, I've dealt with it my whole life, paid attention to it my whole life, but in my whole life, it's never told me something like that; and, I don't know what to do with it.

Ike looked at me pleasantly, "Wasn't planning on it, just ran into each other."

I shot a tight-lipped smile to the stranger who stuck out his hand, "Hi, I'm Henry Arnold"

"Y/n L/n"

Ike threw a thumb back at the counter, "Coffee?"

I shook my head politely

"Caffeine not your poison?"

"I didn't pick my poison," I paused, "Mountain Dew picked me"

Henry chuckled. I tried to pick out any traits to describe him, but the only thing that came to mind was average, ordinary. Beige blond hair, structured face... He seemed nice enough though.

"So, you two work together at the patent office?"

I side-eyed Ike who gave a subtle nod, "Yeah, different departments in the office you know"

"Oh yeah? You must see some crazy stuff pass through though, huh?"

"Uh, not really on my side, I worked in the automotive section, so nothing too crazy, just different parts to go into cars for the most part. I don't know about Ike here..." I jabbed my thumb in his direction, kinda just wanting to get out of there.

"Pretty much the same over in the aerospace department"

Henry seemed to have a revelation, "oh, am I intruding on a date or something? I am so sorry!"

I quickly shut down that thought, "no no no, I just asked to borrow an air mechanics manual, their thinking about switching me over, so they sent me his way."

"Oh, okay..." He seemed relieved he didn't mess anything up. "So why'd you get into that department?"

I looked at him, trying to think. "Uh, well, my family was hurt in a car accident at one point, so I thought I'd help and watch vehicles get safer so they wouldn't hurt them again"

"Oh cool"

I hated that I knew how to be polite, "what do you do?"

Henry scratched the back of his neck, "I'd like to say, inventor... But it only happens in my spare time it seems. My paycheck comes from administrating medical trials"

"Interesting, how'd you get into that?"

"Well the inventing stuff was inherited from my dad who recently passed"

"I'm sorry to hear that"

"He was never around much, but my mom, she kept telling me to change the world. 'Be King' she would say... This is how I do that"

"That's cool. What's your current trail"

"In simple terms, it's a type of steroid..."

I raised my eyebrow, "helpin' bodybuilders?"

"No, this one is legal," he smiled lightly. "This one helps with metabolism and the immune system. Unfortunately, I can't be a patient since I'm handing it out, but based on the results so far? I'll be first in line when it hits the shelves"

I raised some finger guns, "if it's that good, you might have to sign me up for that"

He chuckled and stood from his seat, "I might take you up on that, but for now I have to leave. Laime, Y/n." He nodded at both of us before departing.

"Nice guy."

Ike slouched in his seat, "you could say that. Smart, almost overbearing at times. Sorry, just ran into him here."

I forced out an "it's fine." I looked at him expectingly, "the manual?"

He sighed and turned around to face the backpack on his seat. "I do have one favor though."

"And what's that?"

He placed the book on the table, "could you maybe introduce me to the Avengers?"

I bit my lip, "I would love to, but that's not really in my power, maybe Clint, he's sociable, but he's the best bet and not even close to a guarantee..."

His mouth stretched without becoming a frown or smile, "Yeah, thought as much. It was worth a shot though. Forget I asked" he slid the manual the rest of the way to me. "Get it back to me as soon as you are able okay?"

I stood, book in hand, ready to get out of there, "you got it."

I was in the middle of a chapter while walking down the hall. The first few chapters went something like, 'hey so the only reason you're reading this is either you are going to school for this or for some reason you are looking at a broken aircraft that's most likely smoking and you need to fix it quickly. So we're gonna tell you how to do that first.'

To be brief, Ike picked a good manual for me to read.

I saw I'm my peripheral vision the doorway ahead of me and thought I calculated how far I needed to be over.

I was wrong.

My shoulder hit the door frame right on, causing me to stagger. I then got my other shoulder into someone else passing by. I let out a quiet, "ow."

My eyes lifted to see I had bumped into Loki. I quickly apologized, "excuse me, Your Highness." I continued walking, hoping I didn't anger him. Aside from our first meeting, he seemed like a mild-mannered person: irritable, but polite on most accounts. That being said, seeing his angry power once was enough for me and I wasn't planning on seeing where his line normally is.

That's how our interactions have gone for the past few weeks, usually exchanging as few words as possible, always polite, me making sure I slapped a "sir" or "Your Highness" on the end. When in doubt, respect is the safest bet, and titles are always important.

I headed towards the kitchen, still scanning the book in my hand. You think I'd learn my lesson, but I didn't and smacked my shoulder with that door frame as well.

I inhaled and exhaled equally deeply to calm myself, resisting the urge to just shriek and kick the wall for being in my way.

"Hey y/n, whatcha doing here?"

I turned to see Clint silently chuckling telling me he had seen my mishap. I sighed but decided not to comment on it, "My superiors don't know what to do with me since all of my paperwork is done, so I have two missions coming here. One: check up on you guys to see if you are in any trouble. Two: they told me to learn how to be an aerospace engineer and just overall know how the planes work." I waved a finger at him, "You, my friend, can help with both. So," I sat down at the island, leaning towards him on the other side, "what can you tell me about controlling the jets?"

After Clint gave me his rundown of how it works I felt more confident in my little bit of knowledge. I didn't have much to be concerned about since I knew we would have to be in some extreme circumstances for me to have to do anything.

"Thanks, Clint," I stood from my stool. "You guys doin' okay out here? No trouble?"

He smiled kindly, "same old, same old... Just Thor eating everything and the kitchen sink!" Clint's gaze was pointedly put over my head.

"I'm afraid the sink wouldn't taste that great my good man."

I turned to see Thor had entered the kitchen, water bottle in hand.

"It's good to see you, sir"

He looked at me pointedly

"... Thor"

He smiled and laughed jovially, "The same to you, my friend!"

I jumped when two hands slammed down on my shoulders. They then started to rub the muscles in my neck.

"Y/n, you should be going home and resting"

I turned my head to acknowledge Natasha, "yeah yeah, I was just about to say my adieus."

I looked at the three of them, "so I can give a report saying you all are behaving?"

"I'm making sure of it"

I nodded my head and said goodbye, making sure I didn't hit the door frame on the way out. Turning the corner I almost ran into Loki again but managed to stop in time.

"Excuse me, sir," I moved to curve around him when he grabbed my elbow, spinning me on my heel to face him.

My arm was brushing the wall, his face the closest it's been to mine since we met. His eyes had a look of determination, to do what, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I swallowed, eyes wide, not daring to breathe, even though I wanted to.

He only spoke a single word, "why." He didn't sound angry, but it was stern enough that I knew he wanted an answer, and he knew he was going to get it.

My hand clenched the book in my hand, "why what, Your Highness?" I was going to lay it on thick, just as much as my voice was becoming.

His hand became a little tighter on my arm, his eyes growing slightly, "That, why do you keep respecting me? Why do you address me with my proper title?"

I blinked. That was not what I was expecting him to ask. I took a moment to get my thoughts together, "Well..." I chose not to look him in the eye, a little scared of what I would find. I instead chose a spot on the wall, close to his shoulder. "For one: you hold those titles. You outrank me in both lineage, birth and adopted, as well as being an Avenger. I guess that makes you my superior..." I took a deep breath before continuing, "um, for two: you haven't given me permission not to."

His hand seemed to loosen a bit.

Why was I really doing this? Why did I give him that much power? For my conclusion to my thoughts, I looked Loki in the eye, "and third, you're a dangerous man." I had to clear my throat of the itch that appeared.

Loki's face softened and his eyes grew big. One might call it shock painting his face.

"I'd like to think I'm not a fool."

There was a moment of just us looking at each other, neither of us moving. He eventually loosened his hand enough that I could easily release myself.

I took a step back out of his hold, nodded my head at him and said goodbye, "I've got to go, Your Highness."

And with that, I turned to leave letting out a shaky breath.

Tags: @nightrose64