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c0ntr0lledchaos · 9 months

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mwmday9 - Going Home

Unofficial part two of day 7 'New Home'

Prompts:

“We'll burn that bridge when we get there.”

Collar

Lost

Roof

(originally posted in may of 2023)

The plain white walls and silence of his cell were starting to drive Jason mad with boredom. They took his clothes the day he got here, leaving him with a hospital gown instead. The air was cold and sterile, leaving Jason shivering as he curled in on himself in an attempt to stay warm. He wasn’t even given a blanket, only a stiff and scratchy mattress to lay on.

His body ached from the experiments his captors did on him earlier that day. They tested him to see the limits of his shapeshifting, forcing him to keep going until he collapsed. Shapeshifting took energy and he could only do it so much before it started to take a toll on his body. The worst part was the collar they put on him. It was electronically controlled and kept him from shifting while wearing it. Every time it detected him shape-shifting it would shock him and alert the scientist. They removed it for the experiments, stripping him of the freedom he had over his own body. The collar also had a remote that would shock him at the push of a button if he disobeyed or they decided he needed extra motivation. They had shocked him earlier for simply not walking fast enough.

Without any view of the outside world, Jason wasn’t sure how long he had been there. Judging by how often he was fed though, he guessed he had been held prisoner for about a week now. He never knew he could miss his shitty apartment so much.

The silence was broken as the slot at the bottom of the door opened and his dinner was pushed in on a tray, scrapping against the tiled floor. He sighed and sat up, his body protesting as he did. He stood up slowly and walked over to the food, limping a bit as he did. He sat down and glared at the food. They only fed him what they decided was the bare minimum of nutrients he needed. It was disgustingly bland.

Jason was about to start eating when he noticed the paper cup that usually had water in it was turned upside down on the tray. He frowned and picked the cup up, finding a wireless earpiece under it. Jason stared, trying to figure out why someone would give him this. Maybe this was a trick or some kind of experiment they wanted to do on him. Why they would hide it under the cup instead of just giving it to him he couldn’t figure out.

Suddenly, the earpiece beeped as someone tried to call it. Jason jumped at the noise, not expecting it. He stared at it with wide eyes until it beeped again. Jason scrambled to grab it, nearly knocking over the bowl of food in the process. He fumbled with the earpiece before placing it in his ear with shaky hands. He pressed the answer button and hesitated before speaking.

“Hello…?”

"Oh good, I thought you wouldn’t answer for a second,” a man on the other end said.

“Who are you?” Jason asked, glancing up at the window to make sure no one was watching him. He turned so that no one could see the earpiece if they walked by. His mouth felt dry and he kept glancing up at the window, worried he would be punished for this. He wasn’t sure who gave this to him so he wanted to be careful, just in case.

"OK, we don’t have much time. I have control over the cameras but only for a little while.” The man spoke quickly, sounding frantic. Jason could hear the faint typing of a computer keyboard in the background.

“Wait what is-”

“Once I unlock your door, you need to run as fast as you can to your right. I’ll guide you through the building from there.”

“hold up-”

“No one should be coming to check on you for a couple of minutes so we have to hurry-”

“Stop!” Jason said sternly. He breathed heavily, adrenaline already coursing through his system at the mere thought of escaping. “Look I really want to escape, but-”

“And that's why we have to hurry-”

“But! I do not trust you yet,” Jason said. The man on the other end finally became quiet. “I’ll listen to you, but only if you tell me your name first. That's all I want to know.”

Jason chewed on his bottom lip as he waited for the man to respond. This could be a trick. The scientists might just want to know what he would do if given the chance to escape. Using the information to make it harder for him to do so in the future. It seemed more likely than a random stranger coming to his rescue. Even so, Jason wanted to know the man's name.

“My name is Jack,” the man said after a moment, sounding like he had calmed down a little.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Jason.”

“Yeah… I kinda already knew that. Hacking into their files and all. Now, if you are ready, I am serious about not having much time,” Jack explained.

“I’m ready,” Jason said, standing up and facing the door. His muscles were stiff, but he was not about to miss the chance to escape.

Jason put a trembling hand on the door handle and waited for a moment, listening to Jack typing. He fidgeted with the earpiece with his other hand, making sure it was properly secured to his ear and wouldn’t fall off. After a moment, the handle clicked and Jason threw the door open. He couldn’t help but smile as he ran out of the room, heading to the right like Jack said.

“Ok, so keep going down this hallway then make a right. There is a door that leads to a loading area. You are escaping that way,” Jack explained.

“I think that's where they brought me in,” Jason said, slightly out of breath already. The hall was long and lined with doors and windows leading into other cells, most empty but not all of them. Jason tried not to think about it.

“What about the collar?” Jason asked, making a turn and seeing the door that Jack was talking about.

“I’m working on- stop! There’s people coming,” Jack warned, causing Jason to trip over his own feet in an attempt to stop.

He groaned and pushed himself up just as the door at the end of the hall opened up and a couple of people walked in. They all froze as they spotted Jason and he scrambled to his feet, not waiting for them to react.

“Shit shit shit!” Jason said, his heart pounding in his ears. He could barely hear Jack giving him directions as he ran. “Fuck, what if they catch me? I-I can’t-”

“Then we'll burn that bridge when we get there,” Jack said, startling a laugh out of Jason.

“I don’t think that's the saying,” Jason said, the laugh breaking him out of his panic enough to listen to the directions.

Jack led him down a few different hallways, warning him if someone was coming and redirecting him if needed. Jason had lost all sense of direction, not knowing how to find his way back to his cell if he wanted to. The building felt like a maze he was hopelessly lost in. Jason had never felt more grateful for a stranger's help.

The intercom crackled to life before a woman spoke, “Attention staff, there is an escaped shapeshifter. Please be alert."

As Jason rounded a corner he was met with two security guards with guns at the ready. His feet slipped out from under him as he tried to stop. He could see two tranquilizer darts fly over him, hitting the wall behind him instead. He forced himself up and ran, only making it a few feet before his collar shocked him, causing him to fall to the ground in pain. Jack cussed under his breath as the collar caused Jason's body to twitch uncontrollably, unable to stand back up. The security guards walked up to him, remote for the collar in hand. He lay there, breathing heavily and fighting back tears as the guards approached.

There was a quiet click before the collar fell off and Jack yelled in his ear.

“RUN!”

Jason got his second wind as the weight of the collar left him. He pushed himself up onto all fours and shifted into a german shepherd, the first animal that came to mind. He took off away from the guards, outrunning them now that he was on all fours. His hospital gown hung off his new body, almost causing him to trip a couple of times but Jason refused to slow down. He knew he would pay for shapeshifting before his body had fully recovered but he would deal with it once the adrenaline wore off.

“Now, you are going to hate this but-” Jack started, earning a huff from Jason, “you are going to turn down a hallway that has about 5 scientists in it. You will have to dodge them and get to the elevator at the end of the hall.”

Jack was right; Jason hated it, but pushed on anyways. He had already made it this far.

Jason followed his directions and turned down a hallway with scientists standing in it just as Jack had said. They all turned to look as he ran towards them, spreading out and getting ready to catch him. He used his speed and size to his advantage and slipped past them as they scrambled to get a hold of him. He yelped as one of them grabbed onto his fur, yanking a chunk out. He saw the elevator doors open at the end of the hall and ran as fast as he could, nearly slamming into the back of the elevator. The doors shut before the scientists could reach it and Jason collapsed to the floor, wincing as he slowly changed back into his human form.

“You did it! fuck yeah!” Jack cheered.

Jason let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a fit of giggles as the elevator started to move. A couple of tears escaped his eyes as the giggles turned into a sob. He quickly wiped his eyes and covered his face. Jack was silent as Jason composed himself. Jason sniffled as he sat up and leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “Sorry…”

“It's ok, you are almost out. The elevator is hooked up to their computer system for some reason so I’ve already taken control of it. no one is stopping this thing so take a moment to catch your breath,” Jack said softly.

The elevator walls were covered in mirrors, giving Jason the first clear look at himself he’s had all week. He examined his reflection, softly touching his neck where the collar used to be. The skin was rubbed raw after being forced to wear it for so long, and the skin was especially red where it had shocked him. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles under them, his shape-shifting not being able to hide his exhaustion.

“So can you see me right now?” Jason asked, looking around for a security camera.

“Yeah. Right now I am looking through a camera by the buttons.”

Jason looked up at the buttons, seeing a small camera lens next to the emergency call button. He smiled and gave it a little wave. “I wish I could make a better first impression. I look like such a mess right now.”

"Dude, don't even sweat it. You are escaping a secret science lab where they do experiments on people! I could care less about your appearance right now,” Jack said, chuckling.

Jason laughed softly, looking down at his hands. “I really can’t thank you enough for saving me,” Jason said. He wished he had a better way to express his gratitude but for now, he would have to settle for just a thank you.

“Yeah, well, thank me when you are actually out of the building.”

Jason chuckled a bit at that and looked up, seeing they were almost at the top floor. He grabbed the railing and slowly pulled himself up, getting ready for whatever was waiting for him.

“It's a straight shot once you get out of the elevator. Just start running and go through the door at the end of the hall,” Jack explained and Jason nodded, getting ready to run. “There is a group of security guards making their way up the stairs but they are a few floors behind you so you should have a few minutes before they catch up.”

After a moment the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened. As soon as the gap was wide enough for Jason to pass, he rushed through it. This area of the building looked more like a normal office, a jarring change from the rest of the building. It felt refreshing to finally be free from the sterile white walls of the lab below. Jason pushed past a group of confused people in suits, keeping his eyes on the door Jack was talking about.

Jason burst through the door and saw stairs leading up. He ran up the stairs, taking them two steps at a time. He opened the door at the top and froze in the sunlight. He smiled and walked out onto the roof, taking in the warmth he didn’t even realize he was missing.

“I can’t see from the cameras too well but you should be able to jump to the next building from there, correct?”

Jason walked over the edge and looked down at the roof of the neighboring building. “Yeah, I can make that jump.”

“Awesome, if you can get to the fire escape from there you should be home free. I can guide you through the city if you need me to.”

“Great, 'cause I have no idea where I am,” Jason said, looking down at the street below. He glanced back at the door and hesitated for a moment. “What about the others?” Jason couldn’t help but ask.

“… most of the other captives are… to far gone. They would need a full blown rescue team. I’m sorry,” Jack said softly, sounding just as devastated as Jason felt at the information.

“Let's just focus on getting you home for now,” Jack said.

Jason hesitated before jumping down to the next roof, mentally promising to come back and rescue the other captives, burning this place to the ground in the process.

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rrazor · 3 years

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hq boys as non-sexual things that feel sensual

tags: mildly suggestive content (mostly pining)

bokuto: certain phrases are very sexually charged; “make me,” or “what are you gonna do about it” lunch time!! bokuto comes back from the cafeteria with his pork-cutlet sandwich to see you engaged in a card game with three other people. He sees that everyone’s bet something and you bet a strawberry danish you bought this morning and bokuto’s eyes go 🤩 he forces himself in LMFAO and makes sure to sit next to you 🥰❤️ in the end, it’s only you and him left (konoha and komi come over from their classes to see what all the fuss is about and they’re like …..how is bokuto doing so well 😶)

but you win and steal his sandwich on the desk 😈 he tries to defame you for cheating lol but all you do is look at him coyly like “and what are you gonna do about it, bokuto-kun? 😇” and suddenly his tongue feels heavy and his cheeks flush and he’s all 🥺👉👈 he asks you for the bread back because its his only lunch 😭💀 but he ends up winning sm more because you offer to share your bento with him and his heart goes 🥰💖💞

akaashi: sitting next to someone and your shoulders/thighs touch it’s the sports festival!! and it’s lunch break. he spots you sitting on a bench and he starts sweating at the idea of sitting next to you but he wants to be near you somewhat because then MAYBE you’ll talk to him??!? hopefully 🥺💔

he swallows his nerves and sits on the bench too but on the other side with a huge gap between you and your friend. he pulls out his phone to look “busy” LMFAO then, more of your friends come over and suddenly, you’re snug against him, your BARE THIGH touching his because you’re both in shorts and akaashi thinks he gonna pass out with the bashful apology you give him 😵 he thanks every deity he can think of that your friends came over and STAY because your leg is still touching his and he’s holding a conversation with you 😭🥺🥳💕💖❤️😍

konoha: having someone use your keyboard standing up while you’re sitting in front of it you’re in one of the school’s computer labs working on a research essay. akinori sits next to your station, having worked up the courage earlier to ask you if you could help him with his. he sneaks glances at you at the printers as you refill the trays with more paper 👀 he blushes even though you aren’t even doing anything to him 😭😔💔

before he can stop himself, he calls your name lmfao 🗣 but manages to save himself from utter embarrassment by asking you to look over one of his passages. coming over, you lean over him, hands on his keyboard as he leans back. his eyes are wide and cheeks ruddy as he tries so hard to keep cool because you’re so close 😍🥺💕 and god does he hope what he wrote was coherent because he thinks he’d d-word if you said it made no sense 😓😵

kuroo: when you’re sitting next to someone and they lean over and reach across you to grab something another day, another group project. kuroo gets added to a group with you and another guy because he was absent for volleyball. the two of you push your desks next to him and he’s fist pumping internally because you’re sitting next to HIM and not the other guy and he gets to act as the barrier AHAHAH 😇🥳😛

you’re working together when you ask one of your friends to pass over the notes she took from you. she’s sitting in front of kuroo, but diagonally to the right so she leans back and you lean forward to grab the papers. your arm accidentally brushes his chest and kuroo short circuits 😶 you’re SO CLOSE and your body is nearly laid over his entire desk and if he moves his hands up he could probably touch your chest HJAKHSDLKASD 👁👄👁 the guy next to him looks at him all 😐 as kuroo goes INSANE 🤯

kita: hugging from behind he’s home alone, studying in the living room for his university exams. you’re in the kitchen with his grandma helping her with tonight’s dinner. he smiles softly to himself hearing the two of you laugh 😊🥰💞

he’s halfway through a derivatives question when you hug him from behind, arms coming around him as you rest your head on his shoulder blades 🥺💘 when you softly tell him dinner is almost ready, his chest warms and a soft smile appears on his face ❤️💖

atsumu: the guys strapping you in on a roller coaster. are we gonna kiss? why are you giving me that eye contact? inarizaki’s vbc get together to go to the local amusement park!! they get in and the first thing the twins want to do is ride all of the roller coasters so after a ridiculously long line up, atsumu’s sitting next to osamu, waiting for an attendant to come buckle them in, when you suddenly come up in your cute uniform and hair tied up and atsumu’s like SHIT ITS YOU 😳 also damn y didn’t you tell him you worked here he could have gotten discounted tickets smh 🥴😒

anyways you come up to them to buckle them up with him first and he doesn’t really notice anything but you buckle the first strap really tight and he’s like “does it need to be so tight 😘” and you tell him, making eye contact, using your best customer service voice (vocal bottoming but at least you get paid) and with a pretty smile on your face that doesn’t reach your eyes, “yes, unless you want to die. and if you do, don’t do it on this ride because my shift ends in ten minutes and i don’t want to stay here to write a report about a dumbass who ko’d on a roller coaster 🥰” and he BLUSHES oop— 👁👅👁

osamu: having your back scratched you sit next to each other in class and it’s self study time and you’re helping him with the english homework that was assigned when his back starts feeling itchy. he rolls and moves his shoulders to try to alleviate it, but it just isn’t working so he brings a hand back to scratch at it, but he’s not flexible enough to reach it 😔 you ask him what’s wrong and he puts his arm down like he got burned because he doesn’t want to be seen doing something weird in front of you or making a weird face so he just says nothing but you raise a brow and go “are you itchy?” and he nods JAJCKKAD

you bring your arm up to where he was just scratching, “here?” a shake of his head, “no, a little to the right.” AND YOU SCRATCH RIGHT AT IT!!!!! he can feel his shoulders slump as he closes his eyes and groans a little WHOOP he’s SUPER EMBARRASSED but you just laugh it off and scratch him some more before going back to work and he looks at you like 🥺💖 why’d you stop?? even though you’re not even looking at him LOL 😞 touches his back that night in the shower like your hands were so small 😯😍😳 and maybe he should be itchy more often but it also quickly turns to she better not be touchy feely with anyone else 😒

suna: someone writing on your arm he’s forced to take this one evening class this semester because it’s not offered the next one and he needs to take it because it’s a prereq for almost every other course ugh but at least the cute girl who sits next to him lets him copy her notes LMFAO 😭💀 he left all his belongings in the gym’s lockers because he was going to go back anyways for practice so when the professor gives out a code for a free trial of the software they have to use for the homework assignment due in a week, he’s like shit; he left his phone in his bag 🤡💔

you offer to write it down on his arm, grabbing a pen from your pencil case. he nods like sure why not so you take his arm and push the sleeve of his hoodie up and start writing and he just stares at you 👀 your writing is cute and he kinda likes the feel of your hands on him 🤧 class ends and you part ways with a wave. It’s not until he’s reached the gym that he realized you could have just messaged the code to him on facebook 🤨 so he pushes his sleeve up and sees your phone number on his arm under the code 😘 aren’t you smooth!!! 😌

iwaizumi: when someone is putting the car in reverse and they put their hand on the back of your seat iwaizumi been interested in you for a while, and ever since he came to the revelation he finds it really hard to talk to you because he’s afraid of coming off too aggressive or you figuring it out 😔💔 good thing kindaichi reveals that you’re his older cousin and that you’ll be driving some of them to their next practice match because the volleyball team’s bus is out for a checkup!! 😍😘 oikawa, matsukawa and hanamaki all force him to sit shotgun as you drive (even kunimi and yahaba get in on it). iwaizumi grumbles about it and all but he’s secretly super happy he gets to be right next to you omg 👀😭 he takes a bunch of glances around the interior of your (parents’) car and sits a little straighter than he usually would.

he can feel the stares on the back of his head from the other third years egging him on to make a move and just when he works up the nerve to say something to you, you put the car in reverse to back out the parking spot and put your hand on the back of his seat 😳😤 iwaizumi thinks you look so cool AND HOT he clams up and just stares at you with his jaw slightly open 👁👄👁 💕pls save him 🤧

matsukawa: when a girl puts her hand up to yours and remarks on how yours is so much bigger you got randomly paired up with each other to do a presentation for your world history class and so you’re sitting next to each other on a saturday afternoon at the public library doing research together. matsukawa spent more time than he would like thinking about what to wear because he doesn’t want you to think that his fashion sense was as grotesque as the school’s khaki pants 😷🤢 (when you complimented him nonchalantly about how he looks a million times better in casual clothes compared to the school uniform and joking said that he should start a petition to get rid of the school’s ugly khaki plaid pants and skirts and use a photo of what he was wearing today as the main piece of evidence, he almost doubles over 💀)

you’re sitting next to each other and he’s still kinda reeling from the previous interaction ahjdalhd but he does his best to pull his weight. he’s taking notes in a notebook and you look over and comment out of the blue that his hands are really big as you look at yours 🤧👀 he blinks and looks at you like “yeah?” and you nod, putting your hand up and he does it too because he thinks he’s having a fever dream at this point, but not even in his wildest dream did he’’d ever think you’d push your palm against his and say “your hand is so big! 😳” he has to excuse himself to go to the washroom to scream 😘🥰❤️

hanamaki: when you’re sitting next to someone on public transport and the centrifugal force from the vehicle firmly mooshes the two of you together hanamaki pines for you silently and you can’t really tell he likes you because he’s pretty decent at keeping his emotions hidden. or maybe you’re just so busy with your senior year you don’t notice anything that isn’t the impending doom of university applications and keeping your grades up 😤😇 anyways the two of you get on and off at the same stop each day (which he secretly thanks god for 😭) and you’re sitting next to each other and hanamaki thinks he’s gonna combust because you’ve never been this close!! 🥺🥰

he can feel his hands getting sweaty already. hanamaki sneaks glances at you and tries to see what you’re doing on your phone LMFAO suddenly, the train lurches a bit and you slide from the inertia right into his side and then he can feel the warmth coming from your thighs, side and your shoulder are touching holy sh— 😭❤️😵👀💖 you look up to apologize as he takes a breath and you’re a little shy in your apology but he takes that chance to ask you about something mundane and he makes you laugh!!!! he thinks about the interaction for the next two weeks because he finally got to talk to you dhaskld ☺️🥺💕

kyoutani: when anyone raises their arms to stretch and their shirt gets lifted up slightly gym class—you’re doing timed runs today!! kyoutani is already finished with his so he’s just sitting off the side of the track, staring not-so-subtly at you but you don’t notice because it’s your turn next!! you’ve got the typical school mandated shorts and plain t-shirt on but kyou is all 👀 at your tastefully exposed skin. he thinks you look pretty with the sun hitting your face as you give a smile to your friend, squinting at the sun light 🥰

he’s just mindlessly staring at this point but then you raise your arms to stretch your triceps and the hem of your shirt rises up a little to expose the tiniest sliver of skin before it’s covered again 👁👁 his cheeks pink a little and you catch him looking LMFAO but you don’t think anything of it and just smile and wave as kyoutani burns bright red, heart battering against his ribs and looks away 😡🤡🥰💕 he saves it for future reference HURDURDUR 😇😛

ushijima: when a woman does that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear while making direct eye contact ushijima is INTERESTED in you, likes you, is intrigued, would like to hold your hand and rub the back of your hand and feel the soft skin with his thumb—same thing 🥰 you’re talking to him about something for the cultural festival and he’s nodding along to what you’re saying because you’re so brilliant and responsible for working on the school festival committee wOW 🤩

time seems to move in slow motion as you look up him whilst tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he zones in on the shy smile on your face, your cute cheeks, glossy lips and pretty eyes 🥺🥰 “ushijima-san?” “yes?” “what do you think?” “that’s a great idea, I will ask my team members for their input as well.” you nod exuberantly even though he has no idea what you’re talking about but your cute smile makes him all mushy on the inside 💖💕

semi: making eye contact with another customer at the grocery store around the same age it’s 2:11pm on a tuesday and semi’s at the grocery store because it’s summer and his mom was all “go to the store and buy these shimeji mushrooms for me, eita, they’re on sale!!! but only until 3pm so get skedaddling!” 😩 so he’s here and he swears housewives are the most powerful people on the planet because he thought he was gonna d-word just tryna get his discount mushrooms. he spots you in the condiments aisle looking at sesame oil and he gives you the up, down and lingers a little too long on your exposed legs 💀

he thinks you look really cute in your t-shirt and jean shorts though 🥰 when you look up and make eye contact with him and give him a little smile and wave he BLUSHES 🥺 and is right about to take the chance to talk to you but a granny hip checks him trying to get to the soybean paste and he almost trips and lands on his face 😔💔 so much for looking cool in front of you 😢🥺

tendou: having someone else play with your hair satori sees you on cleaning duty carrying the recycling to the bins as he finishes his runs around the school, about to make a turn to the gyms. he makes a beeline for you, calling your name with a bright smile on his face and waving his arms in the air. 🥰💞🥺

he bounds up to you and offers to help even though the bin is really light, cheeks warming at your smile 😊 when he takes the bin out of your hands , you wave your hand to get him to bend down. he complies, eyes widening when he feels your hand in his hair. he straightens up to see you holding onto a couple pieces of cherry blossom petals 🌸 he laughs bashfully; it feels like time has slowed and you’re the only two people in the world 💖💕

sakusa: if you’re on a pc/laptop, somebody leaning over your shoulder to look at the screen with you. the close proximity of your faces can feel awkwardly sexual you’re in the same kinesiology class and sakusa first noticed how GOOD your presentations are wtf and he’s even more impressed when he hears that you winged the whole thing because “i conveniently forgot about this until one in the morning when I decided it was a good time to reorganize your entire dorm room” ALSO you offered him hand cream the one time you caught him staring and against all reason he said yes and ever since he’s been dying to ask you where you got it from because HOLY was it nice 😍

you get paired up for the final pair presentation and he’s only become more interested in you! you’re easy to talk to and don’t pry too much and he finds himself oversharing at times 💀 the professor gives the class part of the lecture time to work on the projects so you’re sitting next to each other working when he asks you a question about the academic article he just found and you lean over his shoulder to look at his screen 👁👁 for anyone else, the close proximity of your faces would have grossed him out but he can’t stop thinking about how good you smell and how cute your ears look 👀🥰 when you tell him he’s found a really good source with an excited smile on your face, he BLUSHES and promptly wants to pass away because he has no mask on to cover him 🤡😭😵

sachiro: when you have a melting popsicle, there often comes a time where you must choose between eating it too quickly, or sucking it off so it doesn’t drip on you sachiro hums happily, holding your hand as the two of you walk home after your date and stopping at the convenience store where he buys the two of you popsicle sticks 😋

you’re talking about something funny you saw hoshiumi do in the class the other day when your popsicle drips onto you. you kitten lick at your hand and take the whole thing in your mouth to get rid of the more liquidy parts of your ice cream and sachiro is all 👁👄👁 he swallows thickly, cheeks warming and heart beating a little faster; why’s he suddenly so thirsty? 🥵💦🙈

gao: getting a strong whiff of somebody’s perfume when they pass you gao really wants to talk to you, like really really wants to talk to you 😖😭🙏 but you’re talking to your friends about something and the cute way you laughs and joke with them has him all 🥺🥰🤩

he’s about to walk up and join the conversation because let’s face it, gao isn’t afraid of much 🤧💀 too bad the teacher calls you back into the classroom about something. when you pass him, he gets a good whiff of your shampoo and his stomach flutters 😍😊🥺💕💖 follows you with sparkly eyes and wishes he made the choice to talk to you sooner 💔

futakuchi: bending over to pick up something you dropped kenji is watching (glaring) as you talk to one of the baseball team’s starting players 🤐 he’s so ticked but he doesn’t admit it like where does this guy get off making you laugh and smile like that wtf 😒🙄 luckily for kenji, the guy gets pulled away by the class rep for something so kenji calls your name to get you to look at him instead 😤

you come over and just as he’s about to stand up from his desk, he knocks over his eraser. you crouch down to pick it up and he finds himself really liking it 👁👁 he doesn’t get it either 🤡 like you aren’t bending and snapping—just folding your knees to get his eraser for him, but the way you tucked your hair behind your ear before you bent down so prettily has him ☺️😉🥵

terushima: when you’re eating and chatting with someone and they lick their lips yuuji pulled you away from your friends when it was time for lunch, wanting to spend more time with you one on one. he was so busy with volleyball and school lately 😞 and when he managed to get you to tell him how lonely you felt without him, he made it his mission to spend more time with you!!! 🥰😘💕

you’re eating together, sharing food and talking about everything and anything when he notices you lick your lips; he zones in on your little pink tongue as it swipes across your bottom lip 👁👁 “yuuji, you okay?” a hand on your cheek and suddenly, he’s kissing you. he tastes like the leftovers your mom packed you for lunch 🥰😋

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bohemianrequiem · 3 years

Text

Here’s my Codeswapped gift for @nemesisadraste ! I had so much fun writing for Sam and expanding upon her relationship with Odd and the other Lyoko Warriors. I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

Prompt - Sam becomes a Lyoko Warrior

If you had told Sam earlier today that her evening would be taking a turn for the unexpected, she wouldn’t have doubted it-

Things were always that way when Odd was around and that was how she liked it. The unpredictability of their dates as a simple plan for dinner would turn into an hours long romp through the market district of town, both of them perusing clothes neither one could afford, was just another part of the fun of their relationship. Funnily enough, she had come to begin expecting these little pleasant surprises the more time they spent together. However, there was another trend that Sam was beginning to develop over the last few weeks.

First, Odd’s phone would ring and would with his nonchalant greeting of “What’s up,”followed by the name of one of his various friends from Kadic. Usually Jeremy or Ulrich, sometimes Yumi, and very rarely a strange girl named Aelita would be on the other end. After a moment, Odd’s brow would furrow, his jaw would set, and an uncharacteristic seriousness would envelop his entire person. “For real? Yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.” He would then flip his cell shut and turn his gaze towards Sam, his features slowly softening to the goofy boy she’d come to care so much for.

“Sam, I know what you’re gonna say-“ He placed his hands up in mock surrender, a worried chuckle already slipping past his lips before he could even finish his sentence.

“Let me guess, you’ve gotta go?” Sam sighed, more out of habit than any actual disappointment. Like she’d said, this was becoming a frequent portion of their date nights. At least this time they’d actually got to enjoy a movie together and make it halfway through dinner. Her burger half eaten and now being laid down on a plastic red tray, she shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, man. Text me when you get back to the dorms for the night?”

Odd blinked once, then twice. “A-Are you sure?” Obviously surprised at her lack of frustration at his need to preemptively end their date. Sam just waved her hand in dismissal, as if pushing the worry out of existence.

“Yeah, Dude. I know Kadic’s got you guys doing hella group projects this semester. Go help your friends.” At least, that was the excuse Odd had used before. She might have believed it the first time or two, even if schoolwork wasn’t usually that high up on Odd’s list of priorities, but something about his behavior recently had clued her into the fact that this was about something much bigger than school. “So, go on. I’ll be fine making it back to my place.”

Odd took his bottom lip between his front teeth, a habit that Sam had long since stopped trying to break him of, then nodded. “Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.” He gave a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, then dashed off down the sidewalk. “I’ll text you later, okay?!” He called out over his shoulder as he rounded the first corner.

Another thing Sam had come to accept about Odd was that he was a terrible liar. Case in point, he had literally just ran off in the opposite direction of his school. After a couples minutes of anxious internal debate, she began to follow.

~~~

When Sam arrived at the old factory on the outskirts of the river that cut through town, she had initially worried that she’d lost Odd’s trail and accidentally followed someone else’s. After all, what would Odd be doing at some old place like this?

However, maybe this place wasn’t quite as abandoned as she thought. Despite the paint having chipped off the walls decades ago and piles of scrap iron cropping up throughout the interior, the floor looked relatively clear of dust and other small debris. Somebody, or maybe a groups of somebodies, had obviously been coming through here quite frequently to keep the dust and other objects from settling. That and the ropes hanging from the ceiling, one of which was still gently swaying from side to side as if it had just been handled, clued her into things not being quite what they appeared.

Deciding not to trust the rickety old elevator, which likely didn’t even run anymore, Sam followed one such dust-free path from the main floor of the factory down to another area full of old machines. They looked like the ones used in car factories to put heavy pieces of metal on the chassis of vehicles together, but had obviously been in a state of disuse just as long as much of the factory.

From this room, a winding trail that many times lead Sam to various dead-ends finally culminated in her opening a door into a spacious computer room, complete with some type of projection emanating from the center of the room. A few steps in and she could hear the frantic clicking and clacking of a keyboard across the room. Hidden by the sizable monitor in front of his face, a young boy spoke little.

“Okay, Odd. You should be able to see the construct now.....Yes, I know it’s huge, but you need to get inside of it and regroup with Yumi and Ulrich. I’ve lost contact with them for exactly-“ He checked his watch. “Ten minutes now. And communication with Aelita is spotty, at best. It’s up to you to....to uh....” His eyes lifted from his watch’s face to see Sam standing just a handful of steps into the room.

“Yo,” She put her hand in the area in a tentative wave. “Jeremy, right? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this isn’t your social studies project, is it?”

Sam swore she could see a vein in Jeremy’s forehead pulse as he slowly sat backwards and readjusted a microphone attached to his earpiece. “Odd? Were you aware that your girlfriend is here at the factory?”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Was he seriously just going to ignore her and act like they weren’t even in the same room together? “Is that really Odd on the other end? Let me talk to him.” She took a number of determined steps towards Jeremy, the boy defensively putting his hands up around his earpiece.

“No, no, I don’t think she’s infected, but she does look awfully upset. What’d you do to her this time, Romeo?” He stood up and put his hands out placatingly. “Samantha, please-“

“It’s Sam,” She interrupted as her march came to a standstill in front of Jeremy, placing her hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot. “Never Samantha.”

“Sam. Right.” He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I know this is gonna be difficult to understand, but you can’t talk to Odd right now. He’s on a very important mission right now. Odd’s still here at the factory with us, at least technically, but you’re not going to be able to see him until he’s finished.”

A mission? Was this some kind of code or was this dude seriously losing his marbles? “What do you mean he’s here but he’s not? Why can’t Odd just tell me all this himself, without all the lying and hiding?”

“He’s not hiding, Sam, he’s doing something extremely important. Come look.” Jeremy motioned her over to the computer monitor behind him. As she took in the many blinking lights and constantly changing lines of code, Jeremy sat down and relaxed. “See? He’s right here, located outside of this massive structure the geography of which I’ve been mapping for days now. The only problem is that I can’t quite figure out what’s inside of it. That’s where Odd and the others come in.”

“The others? You mean Yumi, Ulrich, and Canada girl, right?” Sam shook her head. “Wait, wait, so you expect me to believe that Odd’s inside there? Inside the computer?”

Jeremy nodded. “Exactly.”

Sam had come to accept a lot of things about Odd: from his personality, to his hobbies, but this went beyond all of that completely. Just as she was about to voice her disbelief again, a frantic beeping came from the computer. She watched over Jeremy’s shoulder as he began typing with near reckless abandon and spoke into his microphone again.

“Odd, bad news. You’ve got hostile hornets inbound. Four of them by the looks of it.” Four red dots appeared on screen, worryingly close to a blue dot indicating Odd’s location. The hornets zipped around the screen, surrounding Odd and barraging him attacks that Sam couldn’t see. From the way Jeremy’s face contorted with worry, though, she didn’t need to see the attack to know things were bad.

“This isn’t good. The hornets shouldn’t be able to move that fast. It’s like being inside the construct has super charged them or something.” A dull beep sounded and Jeremy tsked. “Odd, you’ve just lost fifteen life points. Be careful!” Sam could barely hear her boyfriend’s voice over the other end and desperately wished she could reach out and answer.

“What happens when he hits zero?” She asked, the quietness of her voice surprising her in the moment.

“What?” Jeremy was busy typing away on the keyboard as he tried to discover the source of the hornets’ sudden power-up.

“I asked you what happens when Odd hits zero life points. You said he already lost fifteen, so what happens to him when he hits zero?”

Jeremy pursed his lips. “He’ll be devirtualized. Right now, he’s inside the computer program, but if he loses all of his life points when he’ll be ousted and return to being here in the factory with us.” He added under his breath with added frustration. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen....”

“And what does that mean?” Sam was beginning to lose her patience with Jeremy’s infuriating tendency to under-explain what was going on.

“It means, well, that they aren’t coming back like they’re supposed to.” He leaned back and breathed out a deep sigh. “Yumi and Ulrich have already lost all of their life points, and yet haven’t devirtualized. I can only guess as to why, but their shared code must be stuck in some kind of feedback loop within the simulation. To put it simply...” He looked up to her. “I can’t get them out.”

Sam nearly slammed her hand down on the computer keyboard, but fearing damaging Odd, settled for simply unleashing a verbal tirade onto Jeremy. “And you just sent Odd in there to deal with it by himself? I thought you guys were supposed to be his friends!”

“Of course we are!” Jeremy shouted back. “Odd knows the risk, so do Yumi and Ulrich. He’s not alone though, he has Aelita inside Lyoko to help him and he has me out here to provide support. Ever since we’ve met, we’ve all always had each other’s backs and that’s not going to stop now.”

“Then...” Sam’s gaze turned from Jeremy and settled on the computer screen. Her anger slowly ebbing away and revealing the worry underneath. “What are we going to do now? What can we do to help Odd and the others?”

Jeremy bent over the keyboard. She could practically hear the gears turning inside of his mind - there was a reason his friends all called him Einstein - until he snapped his fingers. “If we could temporarily overload the construct with some bad data, then that should be enough to slow down the hornets and put Odd at a greater advantage.” A flurry of keystrokes filled the air. “But, ah, it’s no use. I have no dominion inside the construction, no access to any towers, and I can’t directly send anything to Aelita in order to sabotage the hornets. If we went that route, I would have had to given the bad data to Odd right as he was being virtualized. But it’s too late now-“

“So give it to me.” Sam cut in. “If you can’t give it to anyone else to make the enemies easier to destroy, then upload the data with me and I can take it to Odd and Aelita.”

“It’s not that simple, Sam.” Jeremy was about to launch into a deep explanation of the danger of a first timer launching themselves into an already precarious situation, before Sam put her hands on the arms of his chair and gently swiveled it around to face her.

“You said you care about Odd, well so do I. I don’t care about what might happen to me, I just want to chance to help.” Her voice was quiet, but sincere. A bit of insincerity slipped in with her next words. “ ‘Sides, I wasn’t asking, Pointdexter. Now put me in before I start keyboard smashing this thing.”

Jeremy thought for a long moment, then another, before slowly nodding. He could see why Odd was so crazy about this girl. “Fine. Head downstairs to the transporters and I’ll guide you from over the speakers. I can’t follow, but I can get you where you need to go from here.”

~~~

It was like a rush of electricity moving up her spine, before spreading throughout her entire body. The next thing she knew, Sam was staggering to the ground and could barely catch herself before falling face first. In her ear, Jeremy’s voice spoke.

“A little rougher than the usual, but not bad for your first time. I kind of had to rush your Lyoko avatar, but it should suffice for the time being. Most of it was procedurally generated anyways so-“

“Dude, c’mon, mission at hand before we start talking technical?” Sam shook her head as if clearing out his voice.

“Right, right, of course. You should be able to see the construct before you, it’s geometry is marginally different from the surrounding sector.” True to his word, her dark eyes scanned upwards and eyed the pale stone fortress before her. It’s coloring clashes drastically with the surrounding fog and light lavender rock of the Mountain Sector.

“The entrance is wide open. Isn’t this usually the part of the game where you have to defeat some kind of gatekeeper or something to get further into the dungeon?” Sam remarked as she swiftly passed into the threshold of the construct fortress.

“This isn’t a game, Sam. This is a matter of whether or not XANA can gain a new foothold within the Lyoko program, thus giving him greater power in the real world.” Jeremy pauses for a moment. “And, uh, Yumi and Ulrich already took care of the krabs guarding the entrance earlier....so there’s that.”

“I knew there had to be a gatekeeper!” Sam yelled triumphantly as she trekked further in. Hard, angular edges formed from what looked like polished stone walls guided her deeper and deeper into the otherworldly building. “So, speaking of mobs, what kind of weapons do I have?”

Jeremy audibly pressed a few buttons on his end and Sam could hear the sound of metal clinking together on her belt. “Like I was saying, I didn’t have much time to code anything too fancy. These digital shurikins should help if you encounter any ranged enemies and this-“ A weight suddenly appeared on her back. “-Is a copy of one of Ulrich’s katanas. I’d suppose you know how to use these?”

“Of course.” Sam chirped. “Sharp end towards the bad guys, then throw and stab, right?” On the other end, Jeremy groaned uncertainly. “Kidding, kidding. I think I can make these work. Now, what about this thing?” She motioned towards the metal gauntlet that encased her right forearm.

“In addition to being armor, it acts the as the containment module for the bad data I need you to inject. Once you engage the enemy, all you have to do is get within striking distance with the gauntlet and then-“

“Uh, Jeremy? I think the enemy’s already here.” After turning a particularly sharp corner, the narrow hallway Sam had been traveling down opened up into a room with high ceilings and expansive flooring. Towards the center, Odd pushed a very weary looking Aelita out of the way of a hornet’s well placed laser blast.

“Get behind me, Princess, these bozos are stronger than they look!” He fire a quick barrage of laser arrows towards the trio hornets, but their impressive speed allowed them to easily dodge each blast.

“No, Odd! Here!” Aelita kneeled down and bowed her head. Within a moment, a rock-like structure the same color as the rocks from the Mountain Sector appeared overhead. It shielded them from the hornet’s blasts, but shuddered with each and everything strike.

Within Sam’s ear, Jeremy voice came to life. “Aelita can’t maintain that barrier forever. And once it breaks, they’ll be totally defenseless. It’s up to you now.” Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sam removed one of the shurikins from her belt. As the hornets were completely focused on breaking Aelita’s barrier, they all but ignored Sam as she quietly slipped closer towards the enemy.

Angling her shot towards the wall, Sam let one of her bladed weapons fly. The shurikin gained speed as it bounced off the wall and hit it’s mark on the broad side of one of the hornets. The virtual insect fell to the ground, dazed from the sudden damage it had taken.

“Now! Sam!” Jeremy leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“Already on it, Pointdexter!” She ran forward and, with a small leap, descended upon the hornet. “Slow!” Out of the wrist of her gauntlet popped two bladed prongs, that soon became buried deep into the hornet’s body. It shuddered for a moment as it’s virtual body was pumped full of problematic data manufactured by Jeremy. Sam pulled the prongs out of the hornet’s body and threw up a hand to cover her face as the creature exploded.

Above her, the other hornets shuddered and jerked midflight before falling to the ground. “You’ve done it! The hornets are down for the count, and the rest of the construct’s data steam has been disrupted too.” A few keystrokes pass. “And Ulrich and Yumi are being devirtualized now!”

“So, now what? Do we keep going further in or...?”

“No way. Everyone’s life points are way too low, not to mention you and I are going to have some explaining to do to the others.” Sam nodded her head as Jeremy’s voice left her ear. Before she could ask anymore questions, Odd practically slammed into her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked Sam straight up into the air.

“Sam! You were so cool! You were like ‘pew’, ‘shing’, ‘stab’, ‘jab’, and then you-“ Sam groaned out-loud.

“Dude, cool it! You’re gonna strangle me to death after I literally just saved your life! Put me down!” Odd loosened his near death grip around his girlfriend and slowly lowered her to the ground. He gave a sheepish laugh. Beside him, Aelita giggled at his bashfulness in front of Sam.

“Right, sorry. For real, how did you get here? Did Einstein call you or something?”

“Not exactly. I, kinda-sorta, followed you here from our date. Then when I saw you guys needed help, I had Jeremy virtualize me.” Sam looked Odd up and down for a moment. “Why...Why are you a cat boy?”

Aelita put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing, but failed to contain her amusement as tiny snickers slipped past. “Yeah, Odd. What is with the cat get-up?”

Odd’s cheeks flushed with color. “W-Well, it’s kind of a long story. I sorta showed up here like this the first time and since then I’ve just learned to roll with it. But what about you? You look awesome!” His eyes ran over the black jumpsuit with satisfying white lines going down the lengths of her covered arms and legs, accented by an indigo crop top overlaying the outfit.

“Jeremy told me he was using Yumi and Aelita’s outfits as a basis for mine, but most of it was generated automatically when I first got here, I guess.” Sam looked at Aelita and her gaze was instantly drawn to her point eyes and face markings. “I guess between you two, I’m kinda the odd one out. No cats ears, no elf ears, just plain ol’ human ones.”

“Hey, you guys.” Jeremy spoke to all of them through his computer’s microphone. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation on fashion, we really should get you three back home. Ulrich and Yumi are already here, so I’ll start the devirtualization process. You first, Aelita.”

As Aelita began to disappear into unraveling strands of code, Odd put a hand on the back of his neck. “Sam, I’m sorry you had to find out this way about what I’m always doing with my friends. I wanted to tell you, and I didn’t like lying to you, but trying to explain all this to you always just seemed so...impossible.”

“Odd, if you had told me about all of this, I probably would have thought your brains had finally melted out of your ears from playing so many video games. I’m not angry or anything, more like amazed really. I almost still can’t believe anything like this even exists. I’m glad you’re safe though. Aelita and the others too, of course.” She kicks the ground with her shoe. “So, uh, does this mean I’m like part of the team now or what?”

Odd shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to be. I’m sure the others would agree that you’ve already more than proven yourself, but there’s still a lot we would need to talk about first. What Lyoko is, what we’re fighting, where Aelita really comes from...”

“I knew she wasn’t from Canada!” Sam yelled, before laughter overtook both her and Odd.

“It was the best we could come up with on such short notice. You’re telling me people from Canada don’t naturally have pink hair?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure nobody from anywhere is a natural pink, dork.” Sam flicks his nose with her index finger as the devirtualization process begins to take her. “I’ll see you back topside, alright?”

Odd nodded. “Yeah, see you back in the factory, dork-kisser.”

#code lyoko #code: swap #odd della robbia #jeremy belpois #Sam King

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oikawas-bae · 4 years

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Posting twice in one day for the same series? I do be kinda excited doe...

Pairing: Bokuto x Reader

synopsis: (y/n) is a shut in, reserved, stoic girl but there’s a reason for that...When (y/n)’s parents become friends with Bokuto’s, they start dining together and Bokuto is determined to crack (y/n) and they start to see they aren’t so different at all.

Previous • pt.3 • pt.4

Bokuto had never met you outside of Friday dinners. Like he’d mentioned, he’d seen you in his class but the dialogue between you was never extensive or anything of note. But now that he knew of your existence, it was quite the surprise to find your name in the newspaper under the ‘Counseling Corner’ headline that gave advice to student issues submitted anonymously to the counseling office.

“Akaashi, I never knew (y/n) was in the newspaper.” He pointed furiously at the thin paper too closely to Akaashi’s face. The dark haired boy pushed the paper away and grumbled, “You don’t read, Bokuto.”

“I do!” Bokuto defended before faltering, “It’s just so boring! And I’m restless.”

“I know that,” Akaashi chuckled, “And also, you were never particularly concerned with (y/n) until recently. It’s honestly a mystery that the two of you hit it off.”

“Hit it off? What do you mean? We’re not like that. She’s a friend!” He urged and it was true, he didn’t know you well enough to have feelings for you. You came across his path and you were interesting so he wanted to get to know you.

“I know that but you talk about her an awful lot.” Akaashi eyed you entering the lunchroom, pointing at the entree you wanted. You were cute, your hair looked soft and you had an indescribable air to you; as if you were hyper aware of everything around you but at the same time, there was calmness in that aura. “There she is.”

Bokuto immediately jumped up to wave at you, “(y/n)!” You turned around and walked in his direction, slightly dreading having to talk to him in a school context. He patted the seat next to him, “This is Akaashi, he’s my best friend!”

“I’m sorry if you had something to do right now. You don’t have to stay.” Akaashi apologized for Bokuto.

“It’s fine. I was just going to walk around the courtyard a bit.” You assured before changing the subject, “It’s nice to meet you. How long have you known Kotarou?”’

Akaashi hesitated when you referred to Bokuto by his first name, “Since elementary school. I was forced to sit next to him, so I was basically tasked to tame the beast and we ended up getting close.”

Bokuto smiled widely, “Keiji here is the nicest guy you’ll meet. He’s kinda hard to read but he’s really cool.” Probably like you, (y/n), he thought. He peered into your eyes like he wanted you to say something equally as revealing about yourself but you didn’t so he continued, “You said you have a best friend, right? At another school.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s just come back from a month long trip.”

“Oh cool! Where did he go?” Bokuto leaned into you a little too close, a blush invaded your resting pigment.

“Bokuto.” Akaashi called, noticing your discomfort, “Boundaries.” Bokuto immediately threw himself back, landing too hard on his behind and groaning.

“Sorry (y/n), he has no concept of ‘the bubble’.” Akaashi apologized once again and Bokuto perked up, confused. You chuckled at his baffled look, he was like an adorable owl.

You felt your phone vibrate inside your sweatshirt pocket and pulled it out to view the notification. “I’ve gotta go meet my partners for a project right now. I’ll see you two later.”

“Awh, okay.” Bokuto huffed, watching you scurry away.

“You think that excuse was real?” Akaashi took a bite out of the biscuit on his tray. Bokuto turned to him perplexed, “(y/n) is difficult to read. I’m not sure if she’s uncomfortable or disinterested.”

Bokuto pouted, “You think she doesn’t like me?”

Akaashi breathed out a long sigh, “Don’t let this get to your head but I don’t think anyone could hate you. You’re Bokuto.” And of course, this mounted Bokuto onto his high horse and he beamed in every direction.

“You’re right! She probably just has a crush on me and she’s shy about it!” He declared and Akaashi shook his head but he maintained his reasoning, running off in your direction. He found you in the newsroom, typing away furiously. Tiptoeing carefully inside, he whispered, “Hey (y/n), this isn’t the project, is it?”

You jumped at his sudden appearance and even more at him discovering your lie, “Yeah...sorry about that. I just have a deadline and I’ve been trying to answer all these grievances thoughtfully but the publisher is really pushing me to work faster and it’s a little stressful.”

A smile broke his curious expression, “Wow, that’s really kind of you.” He took a seat beside you, “Grievances huh? Aren’t they just complaints?”

You turned back to the computer, “I don’t think so. Complaints have substance to them. If you’re complaining, you’re frustrated about something and I really want to help these people so giving thoughtless answers is worthless to me. It’s kind of creepy but I do my research on them before I answer their submission but unfortunately, that takes an awfully long time.”

He was taken aback again, Bokuto gripped his knees, “You’re really cool, (y/n)!” You swore you could see his face had a dash of pink on it that wasn’t usually there.

“Ah...thank you. I’m sure you’re doing more interesting things.”

He shook his head, “You underestimate yourself, (y/n)! But yeah, I’m pretty badass; captain of the Fukurodani volleyball team and a daily volunteer at the local recreation center.”

“That’s cool. I’d imagine that you’re great with kids.”

“I know you have a crush on me, (y/n) but isn’t it a little brash too start talking about the kids you want to have with me?” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

You stopped breathing before slamming your head into your keyboard, “I-I didn’t insinuate that! H-How did you even get that?--God, I- I don’t even know what to say.”

Coughing to compose yourself, Bokuto was surprised by how quickly you changed from a flustered demeanor to that serious one you carried around all the time, “I don’t have a crush on you. I’d never. I don’t know why you would think that. I’d appreciate it if you just took my compliment without inferring the way you did.”

It frustrated him how empty you suddenly sounded. “Are you sure, (y/n)~” He teased in an attempt to stir you up. You huffed, “Positive. Now I’ll see you later, I have work to do.”

____

Taglist: @hqprotectionsquad @writing-sloth lmk if you wanna be tagged!

#haikyuu!! x reader #kotaro bokuto x reader #bokuto #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!!#reader insert #my writing #my writes #lev haiba #dinnertime 🛎

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moonbeambucky · 5 years

Text

Spills and Drills

Pairing: Dentist!Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU] Word Count: 4862 Warnings: fluff

Summary: Although you love sleeping in you learn that sometimes good things come to those who wake up early.

A/N: This is my submission for @teamcap4bucky Teamcap4bucky’s 2k Celebration Writing Challenge! My prompt was “Why are you staring at me?” Thank you as always to Sam @buckyofthemyscira for beta reading, I love you 3000! 💕 gif not mine

Hushed are the voices around you as the movie theatre lights dim to make way for the bright screen illuminating the upcoming releases. You’re comfortable in the red leather seat, with your hand digging into the bag of popcorn in your lap. The melted butter makes the salt stick to your fingers but you don’t mind at all, sucking them clean into your mouth after each handful.

Your name is called, no, shouted over the heavy thwong of the music in the movie trailer. You nearly jumped in your seat wondering why Shuri is practically screaming your name. As you turn to face her everything seems wrong. She’s wearing the same white dress she wore for her sixteenth birthday party, the white one with the fishnet collar her mother thought was a little too casual for the celebration. Shuri would always be her little princess even if she didn’t dress like one.

“What are you doing?” you questioned as she continued to shout your name. “Stop. No. Shuri, stop it!”

With a gasping breath you’re jolted awake, squinting one eye open to see Shuri standing above you, her palms are still pushing against your shoulders.

“Y/N wake up!”

Oh, it was just a dream. The tension in your body relaxes as you nuzzle your face back into the softness of your pillow. “Shuri stop, lemme sleep, it’s Saturday,” you groaned.

“I know it is, I was sleeping too until your alarm woke me up. That thing has been going off for twenty minutes. Don’t you have an appointment to go to?”

Your eyes shot open. “Shit!”

You get up, throwing the blankets off yourself as fast as possible to get out of bed. Why you decided to make your appointment at 8am you’ll never truly understand. If I get up early I’ll have the whole day to be productive, you mock yourself in your head.

With a wide yawn Shuri leaves your room, saying she’s headed back to bed. Your own bed looks so inviting, it’s calling out for you to come back. It was very tempting to cancel the appointment and go back to sleep but you wouldn’t.

Your dentist is a really nice man who worked with you a few years ago during an emergency visit when you didn’t have insurance. He reduced his fees to the bare minimum and even then let you pay him off over the course of a few months. He had a small practice in Brooklyn he ran with his wife and in the world of cheap deals on Groupon you knew he was struggling a bit.

In less than a minute you were dressed and rushing in to the bathroom to wash the sleep from your face and give a thorough brushing to your teeth. Morning breath was still heavy on your tongue so you made sure to scrape that well too. Checking your phone for the time you realized you might be cutting it close to your appointment, so you grabbed what you needed and headed out.

The subway ride was quick but you still had a few blocks to walk once you got out. The street was a lot busier than you expected especially for so early in the morning but that was mainly due to a new popular cafe that recently opened. The lines were crazy long and as much as you wanted to try their Instagrammable treats you figured you’d wait a little bit for the hype to die down.

Checking your phone once more you realized you had one minute to go and two long blocks to still walk. You picked up the pace and turned the corner at the cafe, looking down to secure your phone back in your bag and not paying attention to the person coming out of the door.

You collided with a solid frame, getting knocked back a bit but thankfully not falling. A dentist appointment is enough, you certainly didn’t need a visit to the emergency room. Something did fall however, the two cups of coffee the man was holding.

“I’m so sorry!” you blurted out, looking down at the mess on the ground, with coffee spilling out from the overturned cups.

Glancing up you saw the man standing there, still holding the now empty coffee tray in his hand, with his mouth gaping open in shock. Your own mouth dropped open while staring at what was possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

Tall and well built, looking unfairly good in a sharp black suit with a simple white button down, casually left open at the top. His rich brown hair was cropped short with perfectly groomed stubble covering his jawline.

Realizing you were gawking at him you shook yourself free from his handsome aura and prompted yourself to actually speak.

“I’m so sorry, please let me pay you for them,” you offered, digging your hand into your bag to pull out some money.

“No need, it was my fault,” he replied, with the words falling from his perfectly pink lips like silk. “Did I spill any on you?”

You were definitely sure this was your fault but the sincerity of his tone combined with the sweetest look those incredible blue eyes were giving you would make you believe anything he said. In response to his question you shook your head, not knowing if you were even telling the truth since you couldn’t bother to pull your gaze away from him again.

“I’m glad to hear that. Could I buy you a coffee for your trouble? Although it might take a while with this line,” he chuckled.

Yes is what you wanted to say. You would have waited in a month long line if it meant you’d be with this incredibly handsome man but you were definitely late to your appointment by now and you simply wouldn’t cancel on your dentist like that.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” you quickly trailed off as your feet began to carry you in the direction you needed to be. “Again, I’m so sorry about the coffee!”

You really wished you had woken up earlier, maybe then you would have had a spare moment to actually talk to the hot guy and try your luck at getting his number. He did offer to buy you a coffee so that seemed promising but then you remembered the two cups spilled on the ground. Two cups of coffee for one person didn’t seem completely unlikely but a guy as hot as that is definitely in a relationship. Oh well.

By the time you reached the office you were slightly out of breath after deciding that you should speed walk the rest of the way there to make up for lost time. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong jacket to wear on the awfully sunny morning.

It took a moment to steady your breathing before you rang the bell and were buzzed in.

“Dr. Barnes!” you exclaimed, not expecting to see him behind the reception desk where his wife usually is. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“That’s alright Y/N, it’s a just a few minutes,” he confirmed, checking the watch on his wrist.

You followed Dr. Barnes down the hallway whose walls were lined with posters of people smiling, showing off bright white teeth that advertised all kinds of dental products and procedures.

“My next appointment actually cancelled,” he said, turning his head back a bit as he continued to take you to the examination room. “Turns out they didn’t want to get up this early on a Saturday.”

“I can’t imagine anyone that would,” you remarked with light sarcasm while sharing a smile.

The exam room had recently been redecorated with beigey-grey wood running throughout the floor. The former textured blue wall paper was gone, replaced by a fresh coat of light grey paint on all but one wall that was a deep teal blue. Dr. Barnes’ old desk and bulky computer were replaced by a modern floating desk and a monitor that was clearly a touch screen, though a wireless keyboard and mouse were on top of the polished surface.

You knew Dr. Barnes wasn’t comfortable with new technology. His flip phone made you laugh every time you saw it but it only added to his endearing charm. His wife Winnie adapted faster to her new phone though she has asked you the occasional question or two.

“The room looks great,” you said, hanging up your jacket on the small hook on the wall. “Did Winnie do this?”

His lips were pulled into a smile as he shook his head, “No, my son actually.”

You sat in the dental chair getting yourself comfortable as Dr. Barnes pressed a button for the automatic cup filler beside you as he continued, “He’s been back for a while now.”

Dr. Barnes would often talk about his children as he made small talk during the exam. His son James had gone to college in Indiana and also studied dentistry. Dr. Barnes had hoped James would eventually work at the family practice.

“…If only he learned to be on time,” Dr. Barnes sighed.

He glanced over at the frame on his desk, an picture of his family from over a decade ago when the kids were younger. From your angle you could see bright happy faces and James smiling with mouth full of metal. The poor kid ticked off all the boxes that made up an awkward teen, braces, acne and a lanky body with long stringy hair that looked like it needed a good wash. Rebecca, his daughter, thankfully didn’t look like she had any of the problems her brother did, and Winnie looked as radiant then as she did now.

“Where is Winnie anyway?” you wondered.

Dr. Barnes smiled at the mention of his wife’s name and you found it endearing to see how clearly in love they were. “Sleeping in this morning. Rebecca’s asked her to come along later while she looks for a wedding dress. Knowing my daughter, Win’s gonna need as much rest as possible!”

His fingers slowly clacked away at the keyboard, making you smile as he used both index fingers to slowly type out your name.”

“With Becca engaged I keep telling James he needs to catch up.”

“I’m sure he appreciates it,” you chuckled.

Dr. Barnes pressed the backspace key a few times, clearly unable to have a conversation while he was concentrating on typing. He let his hands rest in his lap for a moment, running his thumb along the gold band that has long since settled in the groove it created on his finger all those years ago.

“I just want to see him settle down with someone nice,” he said, pressing his lips together to form a tight smile.

You know he meant well and having had similar conversations with your own parents you can only assume the conversations are just as awkward for James as they are for you. A few times you’ve tried to explain to your parents how dating is much different today from their time but they don’t always understand. The conversation about why “nice guys” on the internet don’t actually exist seemed to have gone over their heads so you definitely understand James’ suffering.

“If it makes you feel better my parents say the same thing.”

Dr. Barnes’ sparkling blue eyes lit up at you words, as a smile slowly spread across his face. “Well, can I interest you in my son? He’s much better looking than I am and not a single cavity!”

“No cavities you say? That’s the first thing I look for in a man.”

The crinkles surrounding his eyes were prominent as Dr. Barnes gave a bellowing laugh. After finally pulling up your chart he briefly went over your medical history before taking x-rays. He placed the lead vest on your body and positioned the arm of the machine in place so he could begin. The sound of an ancient ringtone stopped his actions and Dr. Barnes excused himself to take the call in another room.

The weighted vest was comforting against your still sleepy form easing your eyes to gently shut. It would have been very easy to fall asleep but the dentist’s office was not the place for a nap. Instead you forced your eyes open, with a gasp caught in your throat as your jaw dropped in shock at what you saw.

Standing in the hallway in front your exam room was the man you bumped into outside the cafe, holding another tray with two cups of coffee. All thoughts about his looks went away because no matter how blue those eyes were or how chiseled that jawline was he was clearly a crazy stalker.

“Dude, are you kidding me?” Your mouth hung open in shock as you continued to stare at him. “I asked if you wanted me to pay for the coffees and you said no so now you’re following me?!” What a psycho!

He stood there silently, gazing at you with a crazed look in his eyes.

“Why are you staring at me? You need to leave.”

The man did nothing but continue to stand there, his mouth hanging open in what you perceived as happy recognition. Who knows how many buildings he went to before finding the one you entered, and now that he was here what was he planning on doing to you?

Without thinking of the ramifications you shoved the lead vest off and grabbed the nearest dental tool on the tray. You wished it was the drill but instead it was one with a curved end. You’re not sure what it’s called but you know it’s sharp and you hoped it would do some damage to this lunatic if he tried to come closer.

The stranger’s mouth pulled into a wide smile as he dipped his head forward and let out a chuckle. His actions only made you more nervous so you gripped the tool even tighter and pointed it towards him in the most threatening way you could be with an instrument that scrapes tooth plaque.

“If you don’t leave right now I’m gonna call the cops!”

You knew it was a stupid thing to say, since technically if you did call 911 it would take some time before any police arrived, and realistically you should have called for Dr. Barnes instead.

“I– ” he begins before he turns his head to the side seeing a figure walking towards him.

“James!” Dr. Barnes proclaimed from the hallway.

James? As in pimple-face braces James? As in George’s son James? Oh no.

A metallic clang rang out through the exam room as you dropped the dental tool back onto the tray and jumped back into the chair. Your heart was pounding furiously in your chest as you quickly pulled up the lead vest and replaced it across your body, trying not to look like you just threatened your dentist’s son with a pseudo weapon.

“Hi Dad,” James responded in that beautifully smooth voice you heard not long ago.

Dr. Barnes came into your line of sight and seeing the two together made you want to kick yourself for not realizing it earlier. Their eyes were identical as was the little dimple on their chins though James stood taller than his father, and where Dr. Barnes was lean James was obviously muscular. The integrity of that shirt was put to the test the moment he got dressed and you found yourself growing hot at the thought of the younger Barnes in a state where his body would not be covered with clothing.

Dr. Barnes folded his arms across his chest, frowning as he huffed, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, I was bringing you coffee and then…” James stopped to share a knowing look in your direction, your own eyes flared with panicked anticipation wondering what he was going to say.

“... I bumped into someone and knocked them right out of my hand, totally my fault. Had to wait back in line again.”

Dr. Barnes swiped his hand down his face as he let out an expected sigh, “My son, the klutz.” He turned his head towards you, seeing the small curve your lips were pulled into. “See Y/N, this is why he’s single,” he joked.

James turned a few shades pinker with embarrassment at his father’s comment, especially when he locked eyes with you, seeing your own crinkling with unspoken laughter.

“Well it was kind of you to bring coffee but I’d rather you show up on time,” Dr. Barnes remarked.

James followed his father into your exam room as Dr. Barnes officially introduced his son. “Y/N, this is my son, Dr. James Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he said, extending his hand towards you.

“N-nice to meet you,” you replied, unable to contain the nerves in your voice.

Once again Dr. Barnes shook his head at his son’s actions, mumbling under his breath about how “Bucky” is not a professional name. It was all in good fun however as you could see the love they had for each other.

Turning his attention towards you again Dr. Barnes asked if you would feel comfortable with James finishing the exam and cleaning. “That call was from Winnie. She locked her keys in the car. So much for sleeping in.”

Your veins carried fear throughout your body as panic rooted itself deep into your bones. It’s not that you didn’t trust James or whatever he wanted to be called, in doing his job and Dr. Barnes would never steer you wrong but the fact that you would be alone with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen as his fingers probed your mouth made you feel more than awkward.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you lied through your ready to be examined teeth.

George smiled as he said goodbye, joking that he was going to call you later so you could let him know the truth about how James did during the exam.

The younger Barnes followed his father out of the room, telling you he would just need a minute to get ready, leaving you time to mentally prepare yourself.

You can do this Y/N. He’s just a hot guy. There are plenty of hot people out there. He’s just a normal guy with extraordinarily good looks. Don’t stare at him like he’s got a metal arm or something. Be cool.

Shrugging your shoulders you tried to physically shake off any lingering awkwardness, well as best as you could while still wearing the lead vest. With the morning you had you were glad you remembered to put on deodorant, especially now as you’re sweating in the chair, hoping the sweat stains under your arms that were definitely starting to form were not visible.

Footsteps echoed closer on the new wood flooring alerting you to sit up a bit more as you anticipated James’ arrival once more. He looked even better somehow, forgoing the suit jacket for a white lab coat.

“Time to get you out of that vest,” he said, scrunching his face up adorably as he corrected his words, “I mean, time to take the x-rays t-then you won’t need to wear the vest, heh.”

Responding with an awkward chuckle you felt slightly comforted by the fact that you weren’t the only one feeling nervous with the situation. You focused your eyes on the teal wall ahead, ignoring the way his deft fingers assembled the piece for the x-ray that would go in your mouth, holding a tense breath as he asked you to open your mouth and bite down.

Your mind was not helping you keep cool as it imagined his simple request in a more seductive scenario, hearing that smooth voice giving commands was not something you were turned off by.

You managed to make it through the rest of the x-rays with minimal squirming in your seat, as you combated visions of ripping his clothes off with thoughts of Shuri and her obsession with watching pimple popping videos. That girl may be a genius but there is definitely something wrong with her.

James’ fingers brushed against your arm as he finally took off the lead vest. “You’re hot,” he said causing your eyes to widen. “I mean from the vest,” he quickly mumbled.

Bucky was thankful his back was towards you as he hung the vest back up on the wall, rolling his eyes with embarrassment by his poor choice of words. It’s true, your body was feeling warm when his fingers gently skimmed across your skin but Bucky thought you were hot the moment you ran into each other outside the cafe.

He kicked himself for choosing to stand in line for coffee again instead of trying to talk with you before you left to give you his number. It took all the strength in the world not to drop the tray of coffee again when he saw you in the exam room. He’s truly never been happier to have been at work before.

Though Bucky had been practicing dentistry for quite a few years now being around you made him feel as nervous as he was during his first day of clinicals. He attempted to make small talk with you as he began the exam, an onerous task on your behalf as you could only communicate with a few sounds as your mouth hung open.

It was difficult not to look at James as he checked and cleaned your teeth. The bottom half of his handsome face was blocked by a mask but through his safety glasses you could still see those beautiful blue eyes, as clear as the ocean surrounding a tropical island.

Apparently you were lost in dreamy thought, unaware your tongue had strayed from where it was supposed to be during the cleaning.

“Stick your tongue out further,” he asked and you complied, focusing on the ceiling tiles above instead as he continued. “Okay, you can sit up and rinse now.”

Bringing the small cup to your lips you swished the water around your mouth and spit out a mess of saliva and blood.

“I never know what to do with my tongue,” you said, referencing your earlier action although hearing the words out of context you’re not sure if he knows what you mean. “D-during the exam!” you quickly added. “I know what to do with it.”

You heard a chuckle from behind, realizing your extra comment made things worse and you should probably never speak again.

Your mouth still felt unclean, though you couldn’t tell if it was leftover residue from the exam or the stupidity of your words. As you pressed the button to refill the cup you focused on the fact that in a few moments you would be getting your new toothbrush, paying the bill and leaving forever.

James spoke just as you began to pick up the cup, “Well, I’m happy to say your oral is good.”

The shock of his words caused your fingers to let go of the delicate cup, spilling water all over the floor.

“Health!” he shouted, catching his mistake. “Oral health!”

Bucky’s cheeks burned hotter than the sun and he didn’t need a mirror to know he was currently a deep crimson shade to match the level of embarrassment he felt. He wanted to disappear, magically teleport himself back to Indiana where he was not a bumbling idiot.

A gasp pulled his attention towards you as your hands simultaneously covered your gaping mouth while apologies spilled from your lips faster than the water.

“No, it’s okay, it’s my fault,” he apologized.

Bucky left the room, internally chastising himself for the ridiculous thing he said. He was thankful his father was not here to watch his descent into complete incompetence. There was something about you that made him act like a fool. He wondered if he could blame it on laughing gas, claim there was a leak in the nitrous oxide tank.

He opened the supply closet letting his shoulders slump as he exhaled a deep sigh. There was no way he could come back from this.

James returned with a large roll of paper towels in hand. Getting up from the chair you offered to help clean the spill but he insisted you didn’t have to. Instead you stood to the side, and despite how tempting it was to look at him bending over as he cleaned the floor you shut your eyes, pinched the bridge of your nose and wished you were still dreaming, hoping Shuri would wake you up from this nightmare.

His foot stepped on the pedal of the garbage as he dumped the saturated paper towels, pulling off his gloves to dump them as well. You still stood silently, inching your way out of the room, knowing you’ll have to find a new dentist because you could never face James or Dr. Barnes ever again.

Bucky rummaged through a drawer before turning towards you, “Do you want green or blue...or…. uhh, I’ve got orange,” he spoke of the toothbrushes.

“Doesn’t matter.” Get the toothbrush, pay the bill, leave forever.

James handed you a blue toothbrush and you wondered if it was a conscious choice, a reminder about his eyes even though this basic color falls short in comparison to the beauty of those sparkling sapphires.

Following him to the front you nodded quickly when he spoke about scheduling another appointment in six months. It didn’t matter, you would be cancelling it as the time neared. With the bill paid you gave him an awkward goodbye with a stupid wave that was immediately added to the long list of regrets for the day, and quickly ran out of the door.

A few hours later you were feeling better. You told Shuri everything the moment you got back to your apartment and even though reliving the disaster that was your morning made you feel embarrassed all over again, when she rolled off the bed from laughing so hard it allowed you to let go of everything and laugh along with her.

The buzzing of your phone on the table woke you from a nap you didn’t know you had taken. Seeing Dr. Barnes’ office number you remembered he said he would be calling you to check how things went.

“Hi, Dr. Barnes,” you said cheerily.

“Hi Y/N, this is Dr. Barnes. Not that Dr. Barnes though, it’s Bucky.”

“Oh, hi.” All of the nerves came rushing back as your heart raced with fear, wondering why he was calling you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just you left your jacket in the office.”

You completely forgot about your jacket until you were nearly home and a gust of wind caused goosebumps to erupt all over your bare arms reminding you about the poor jacket you abandoned in the office. It was too late, the jacket was a lost cause, an innocent victim as a result of your awkwardness, now homeless because you were not going back for it.

“Oh… yeah,” you responded, trying to sound casual.

“That’s not the only reason I called.”

Bucky cleared his throat, forcing himself to say the apologies he’s been repeating in his head all day but this time to the person who needed to hear it.

“I wanted to apologize for today. I’m normally not…” He ruminated on his words, trying to think of something professional before settling on the truth “… a mess.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his admission and the sound eased some of the tension he felt immediately. If Bucky was being honest you thought you should do the same.

“Me too. I’d like to think I’m a lot more chill than I was today.”

“So threatening people with a sickle probe isn’t a normal part of your dental experience?” he joked, pulling more laughter from you. “In all seriousness, I’d like to return your jacket and maybe I could buy you that cup of coffee?”

Bucky’s voice went higher with uncertainty as he silently hoped you would say yes to his offer. The momentary silence was deafening as he waited for your answer.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea…”

Bucky’s heart sunk to the floor. He was wrong to think you felt the same about him. Clearly you wanted to keep things professional, something he was clearly incapable of.

“…I heard coffee stains your teeth.”

Relief washed over him quickly, helping to slow the rapid beat of his anxious heart. His lips stretched wide across his face as he said, “Maybe it’s another excuse to see you again.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you chewed on your bottom lip to help contain the smile that threatened to spread all the way to Brooklyn. You decided to meet at a coffee shop in the middle, leaving you just enough time to get changed and attempt to look presentable again.

“I’ll see you soon Bucky,” you said, getting up and eyeing your closet for something to wear. “And I promise I won’t knock it over.”

“I hope not because it was definitely your fault this morning!”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated :)

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evien-stark · 4 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 197

Peter brought his excitement with him all the way back to the Tower- which was a short drive considering Tony was behind the wheel. Better to be quick, too. While you could instruct Happy to take his time coming and going to pick up May, you only had a very small window to hash things out with Peter. ...and you really had no idea how to do that.

First you texted Pepper on approach to start some paperwork going and then decided not to take him to your office. Which was fine. It seemed like Tony wanted to bring him to the labs anyway. His lab, specifically. The private one. Nestled in the back. No one around to listen in. And when Tony went to sit at his main worktable and started typing away on the lightup keyboard, you couldn’t help but ask.

“So. ...does anyone else know? About you?” You really still had no idea what you were doing. How any of this was supposed to go. What you were supposed to do about it. The question of if you even should do anything about it had long since flown out the window.

You’d brought Peter Parker back to Stark Tower. There was only moving forward from here.

That twinkle of energy seemed to just die. In its place came a nervousness that you were starting to get familiar with from Peter. He was new to this. As green as they came. And scared. “No. No one.” He held his hand up. “No one can ever know.” Trying and perhaps failing to assert a little sway here. Trying to lay down the law.

Team Iron had just picked up Spider-Man and whisked him away to their secret labs. Maybe Peter Parker was realizing he may have actually been in trouble after all.

Tony looked up from his computer. “Not even your adorable aunt?”

A flurry of discomfort and terror packed tight in Peter’s chest. “No. She can’t- she cannot know about this.”

You moved to sit on the edge of Tony’s desk. “Why not?”

Peter’s attention came back to you and he gave a little helpless shrug. “She just- she’d freak out. And when she freaks out, I freak out… just…” He sighed then. “How would I ever even tell her about this. Any of it? It’s… she just can’t know.”

He had a good point. Still just a very young kid. Fourteen, actually, you’d found out from Tony’s nosy behaviors. He was too young to be going around fighting crime. Putting himself in danger every second of the day. He was right. If May found out about this she would freak out. And she’d have every right to do so. ...if he was your kid, you’d have felt the same way.

“Did your powers just…” How to phrase this… “Did they just show up suddenly?”

A small grin touched the corner of his mouth and he shook his head with a little breath out. “Uh- no. Not- well. Kind of but. They didn’t just appear.” He was trying to hold off. Trying to keep some secrets close to the vest. That was smart. But it also wasn’t very helpful to you right then. You’d wanted to know if he was a mutant. And as far as you knew, those powers activated through their… oh what was it… X-Gene or something… usually when they hit puberty. You’d thought that that might have been Peter’s case. And if it had been, maybe showing him around Xavier’s school might have been good for him. But that didn’t seem to be-

Your head went up sharply, and perhaps a little too telling was both boy’s in the room suddenly diverted their attention to you. You must have spooked them. “Please tell me you didn’t come into contact with anything… alien.”

His head tipped questioningly to the side but after making a tight-lipped pout, “No. Nothing like that, either. ...why?” You finally gave him a shrug in return. “Just curious.”

“You know what I think is really cool.” Tony broke up the conversation- thankfully- and pulled something out of a tray that suddenly lifted up from the center console. It was a small clear vial. Without warning he chucked it Peter’s way. “This webbing.”

Without a second thought, Peter stuck his hand out to catch it firmly. So. Super strength. Super reflexes. What else was he hiding? Tony turned to look over at Peter. “The tensile strength is off the charts. Who manufactured that?” Ah. Yes, this had been something Tony was interested in. Figuring out who had been supplying Peter.

There was just a flutter of pride but Peter’s expression and voice belayed any of that. “I did.” Sounding so… unconfident as he looked at Tony. Someone he looked up to was praising him- but not him. His work- but only because he thought it was made by somebody else.

You tried to inject some lightness back into the conversation and let Peter own that confidence. “Tony was very impressed with it. Couldn’t stop talking about it.”

While Tony cast a look up your way, Peter’s suddenly shy smile that he hid as he half turned away told the whole story. “I’m working on a new batch.”

Tony folded his arms. “And crawling up the walls? How’re you doing that? Adhesive gloves?”

This caved Peter in yet again and he shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s- ...it’s just me.”

They both regarded each other. The air was a little tense. Tony was… it was just short of an interrogation. A friendly one. But it was obvious what he was doing. “Got any tech in those blacked out ski goggles?”

Peter was wearing a full on frown now. “No they just- they help me.”

So. No tech- and from what you remembered when you were up close, they were pretty thick. You were careful as you asked, “Help you how?”

His eyes went up and around and he turned completely, pacing slowly. “It’s just- ...when whatever happened happened- it’s like my senses have been dialed up to eleven.” He took a deep breath after this, like he’d expelled all his air after saying it frantically. Coming around the other way he at least was a little closer than before. “There’s just- there’s way too much input. So they kinda help me focus.”

Sensory overload. You felt for him. Deeply. There were times, though they were few, that there was just too much going on in the world for you, too. It would take a little more than goggles to fix your problems, though.

“So you created stuff to augment your powers in one way, and other stuff to help dim everything out. You’re pretty resourceful.” Complimenting him where he deserved it. You weren’t the most science-forward person there was. Perhaps stuff wasn’t doing its due diligence-

But when Peter smiled again that was reward enough. It was nothing compared to the shine that took over him, though, when Tony said what he said next.

“You’re in dire need of an upgrade. Systemic. Top to bottom.” He wheeled his hand around at Peter. “That’s why we’re here.” He then pushed a button on his keyboard rather loudly, and a hologram sprung to life in the center of the room. A new spider-suit. Information started peeling off and Peter was instantly drawn to all of it.

He moved into the center of the room where it was, walking around it more than once. Reaching up. Touching it. Expanding text. Moving the suit around.

It would have been nice to just let him have this moment of wonder but Tony interrupted. “Why are you doing this?” Both you and Peter looked at him suddenly. His focus was on the kid, though. “I gotta know. What’s your MO? What gets you out of bed in the morning?”

Peter made a noise, trying to start some words up, but they died. He moved away from the image then, shunning it almost. Like he was scared to enjoy it for what it was. That it would be taken away any second when he gave the wrong answer to this question. So why bother getting his hopes up, right?

Tony was being rather forward and abrasive with a lot of this, though you know he didn’t mean it. So. While you were there, you had to try and balance him out. “We said you weren’t in trouble and we meant it. But… you’ve gotta know that this life is dangerous. It’s not glamorous and it’s really not even fun. You and I both got into a serious scrape the other night. But something tells me you fixed your suit and went out the very next day. Am I right?”

Peter moved to sit on a chair about an arm’s length away from you. Well. He dropped into it, more than sat. A sigh escaped him and then he nodded dully. “Yeah- yeah- but it’s- ...I just-” He was struggling trying to find the right words. Both you and Tony waited very patiently for him to decide what he wanted to say. And when he did, “...I’ve just. I’ve been me my whole life. And I’ve had these powers for three months. I… I read books. I build computers. And… yeah. I would love to play football. But I couldn’t then, so I shouldn’t now.”

Tony was nodding. “Sure. Because you’re different.” A certain shade of blue took over Peter then. It was hopelessness-adjacent. He was drowning. And trying very hard not to. “Yeah. But I can’t tell anybody. So I’m not.” He should have been getting a sense of catharsis from this. It was hurting him, in a small way, to have all of this on his shoulders, to do what he could do, and not be able to tell anyone.

But you and Tony were here now. Giving him a chance to let it out. Yet it didn’t seem to be helping. What was holding him up?

Peter looked right at you. But when you caught sight of his gaze his head dropped and he sighed. “Just… when you can do the things that I can- ...but you don’t- and then the bad things happen… they happen because of you.” There was something so real and raw here.

And it pinged something inside you and Tony equally. Peter Parker had the wisdom of someone who had lived about ten lifetimes. Yet he wasn’t even twenty. He’d just spoken a truth that haunted both you and Tony. ...daily, sometimes.

It took you a moment to refocus on him. To put yourself aside. Inside his heart was beating double time in an anxious pain. Something deep and… terrible. He was holding on to something. And you felt whispers. He was not nuanced. He wasn’t quite like you or Tony or any adult at this stage of their life. Drifting from one event to the next and a champion of holding it all in until it hurt.

No. Peter was hurting now. And he had been every single day since he’d gotten his powers. What was the connection?

You didn’t know this kid. Maybe it wasn’t right to ask. But you just… couldn’t stand to sit there while he shredded himself apart. “Peter.” You made sure to keep your tone soft and level. “Did you drop the man who killed your uncle at the police station in Midtown?”

Shock and a sure sense of fright ran right up Peter’s spine. Even Tony was looking at you nervously.

Peter’s answer was firm. And fake. “I don’t wanna talk about that.”

But he did. He wanted to let go of it. He needed to tell someone. He desperately wanted to put it somewhere, because he was getting tired of dragging it around now. You nodded. “Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

Almost as if you’d gone against his wishes, he sprung up out of his chair, putting his back to you, walking a couple paces away. He shook his head. Tony looked at you, opened his mouth, but you held a hand up and he closed it again and remained silent. Trusting that you knew what you were doing.

Truthfully you had no idea.

But after a clutched noise in Peter’s throat, and a white-knuckled grip on the edge of a table, Peter broke. And that shadow that had been tied around his throat was just about to come loose. So with only the barest of gentle guidance you unwound it for him.

“I- I did. I found him. And I…” He was shivering. It was too much for you to sit there any longer and just watch him. So you stood and came to his side. He didn’t look up.

Not even as you laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Peter.”

“It is not okay!” This was about as explosive as he’d ever been and as explosive as he could get. Somehow you knew this. “I… my uncle- ...Ben. It’s- it’s my fault that he died.”

This you were not expecting. You were expecting a kid with new powers who had been looking out for revenge. But Peter looking for forgiveness? To make right a wrong that he thought he’d done? “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is true. I was- he was waiting for me. And I was…” He scoffed and shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is he was waiting for me and because of that he-”

Because of that he got caught by some robber on the street? Because of that he had been murdered?

You were five seconds away from trying to console this poor child. But he surprised you when he continued. “I wanted to. I- ...I wanted to- but I didn’t-” You knew what Peter was saying without saying. He’d wanted to kill the man responsible. “For a moment I- ...but I didn’t. Because I couldn’t- and I- …”

With a firmer grip on his shoulder, you tried to turn him to face you. Strangely he offered no resistance but was now drowning in a sea of guilt and shame and- “Peter. Listen to me.” You tried to hush all the interference. His trembling stopped, at least. And you waited. Waited for him to find the courage to look at you. When he did, “It’s good that you didn’t, Peter.” Not speaking the word into existence. Not having to.

Just letting him know. It was okay not to kill the man that killed his uncle.

His lips pressed together. He wanted desperately to believe this. Wanted to be done feeling that way. But he also felt like he didn’t deserve it.

Instead of making him struggle through telling you that- a stranger who had just offered her help and practically her home for no reason- you continued. Well- maybe a little more than a stranger. One of his favorite and most trusted superheroes- a public figure who had spent a lot of time on optics of being good. And doing good. That probably helped your case, helped him to believe you when you said- “It’s good that you didn’t. You did the right thing. Your uncle wouldn’t have wanted that. And taking a life- it’s something you never get over. It breaks a piece of you. It’s good that you handed him over to the police. That was the right thing to do.” Reiterating it for him. Just so that he would be able to believe it. “It takes a lot of strength and a lot of willpower to face someone who has wronged you so deeply and not let that take control of you. You are incredibly strong, Peter.”

He was staring at you. Openly. Waiting for the world. Waiting for the thing that would make it okay. That would make all the pieces click. He wanted it. But he’d been drowning in too much guilt to just be able to take this at face value.

So…

“Peter. When I was not that much older than you… I killed my college professor.” A sure strike of surprise and fear lashed across Tony. It registered in your awareness, but you kept your focus on Peter. He also seemed pretty stunned. ...but not frightened. He was suddenly hanging on your every word. “He violated someone I cared about. And I… I killed him. It was the wrong thing to do. I wish I hadn’t done it. I think about it a lot. About how I’d have done it differently. About what else I could have done. How things might be different now if I had. No one else knows that. Just Tony. So believe me when I tell you- you did the right thing.”

He wouldn’t have to spend sleepless nights wondering what other routes he could have taken. He didn’t have to wonder for the rest of his life what repercussions that had had. He wouldn’t have to clear away the image of someone dying beneath his hand. He was a good kid. And he’d made the right decision.

You had to hope he’d make another one now. And hold on to this secret for you.

Finally his eyes fell and you thought for a moment you’d lost this moment. That he wasn’t going to be able to move on from this or come to terms with it. But-

Then he nodded. And the gears started turning. Like he’d just realized something. Something important. And you were partly sure that you were not the reason, but maybe the catalyst.

It was too much to ask to vocalize any of this. ...in this instance you were glad to be who you were. Getting that peek behind the curtain was very helpful right now. But as he looked up again, there was little room for interpretation in the gaze he was giving you. In it there was a sure sense of hope. But most of all… Gratitude.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Ninety Seven

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onewfantaesy · 4 years

Note

Cubicle au is so stinkin cute!!!!!! I don't even have anything to say other than that! Just gimme all of it!

Let’s start this morning with more cubicle au then!

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee. If Taemin didn’t get coffee in the next twelve seconds he was going to pass out. His head was swirling so bad - screw Jinki and his plans and his no sleep all weekend - weren’t Monday’s bad enough?

Taemin forgot to have his morning coffee. He woke up late. Well, actually, he had fallen asleep just eighteen minutes before his alarm was supposed to go off and then didn’t get out of bed until twelve minutes before he had to leave.

Taemin is going to pass out, he’s sure of it.

“Morning Taemin,” Key calls before Taemin’s keys even hit his desk.

“Hi Key,” he says, his voice wavering.

“I’m about to do a Starbucks run, wanna tag along?” Key asks.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“God please yes please.”

“Whattaya want? I’m ordering right now.”

“Uh,” Taemin’s mind goes blank. “Coffee?”

Key snorts.

“How often do you get Starbucks?”

“Never.”

“I’ll get you what I get,” Key says. “You’ll like it.”

“It has lots of caffeine?”

“So much caffeine.”

“Oh,” Taemin stutters, digging in his backpack for his wallet. “I don’t have any cash - can I -”

“Don’t worry about it,” Key says. “My treat.”

“I’ll pay next time,” Taemin says.

“Cool,” Key says. “Let’s go.”

Taemin hears keys jingling and Key’s chair creaking, and Taemin hadn’t even logged into his computer yet.

Boa was coming with them. There were eight coffees waiting for them to pick up.

“Who in the heck-” Taemin starts, but Key just snorts.

“Monday morning meeting,” Key explains. “It was my turn to pick up coffee.”

Taemin scoffs.

“You guys get Starbucks?” he asks. “Baekhyun only ever gets us the free shit from the break room.”

“That’s because Baekhyun is a boring team lead,” Boa says, smirking. “And because our team is better.”

Taemin laughs, but he’s a little uncomfortable. He does also manage to balance one tray of coffees in one hand and open the car door for Boa with the other.

“Aww, you’re sweet,” she says, getting into the front seat.

“Um,” Taemin stutters, “thank you.”

Boa only continues cackling and sharing a look with Key while Taemin gets into the backseat.

The coffee Key got for him is an iced venti sweet thing. “The ratio of size to flavor shots is very important,” Key had said. Taemin writes down a note in his phone of what’s on the label. It’s the best damn coffee he’s ever had.

Taemin spends most of the morning with his lips wrapped around the straw and staring at his computer. The caffeine helped, but he’s still tired.

Once Key’s team meeting is over, he hears Key and Boa talking in hushed voices.

“I want to steal him,” Boa whispered.

“We can’t steal him,” Key whispers back.

“Yunho agrees!”

“They won’t let us steal him.”

“We can try.”

“Don’t you have something to do besides pester me?”

“Fine,” Boa huffs. “But this isn’t over.”

Taemin hears her leave Key’s row and go down a couple more towards her own cubicle. Taemin smirks.

“Who are you trying to steal?” He asks. He loves office gossip, even if he won’t admit it.

“No one,” Key laughs. “Don’t worry about it. Did you like the coffee?”

“It’s the best dang drink I’ve ever had.”

“Good.”

That’s when Minho comes in to Taemin’s cubicle to talk about a document they just got emailed about. Key goes back to typing at his keyboard. Taemin is sure he’s messaging Boa - he never types and pauses and types and pauses like that when he’s actually working. Plus, he keeps sighing. Taemin thinks it’s funny.

Taemin is still exhausted, despite the coffee. He doesn’t even have the energy to make fun of some of the corporate emails with Minho.

“Long weekend, Taemin?”

Taemin blinks slowly, then turns his eyes toward the wall he shared with Key.

“Yeah, kinda,” Taemin mumbles. “My brother was visiting.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Boa’s voice calls. It makes Taemin jump. He hadn’t heard her come back over. “Do you want to come get lunch with us today?”

“Do you guys just always go out to eat?”

“Not always,” Boa says. “Unless you like that.”

Taemin is confused. Or maybe he’s still just tired and can’t follow.

“We’re gonna go to Olive Garden.”

“Ah,” Taemin perks up. “True American food.”

It makes Boa and Key both choke a laugh.

“Shut up,” Key calls. “You coming or not?”

“Um,” Taemin stutters. “Let me ask Minho if I can.”

“He’s not your boss.”

“I can hear you guys!” Minho scoffs from the cubicle behind Taemin’s. “I’m his direct superior!”

“No you’re not,” Baekhyun says from the window cubicle behind Minho. “Taemin, if you want to go to lunch, it’s fine.”

“Thank you!”

“Taemin, we still have-” Minho starts.

“It’s not due until Friday,” Baekhyun cuts in, knowing exactly what Minho and Taemin are working together on. “And aren’t you guys already ahead of schedule? He can take an hour and a half for lunch if he wants.”

Flexible schedules really are the best thing that ever happened to Taemin. He’ll have to stay later than he usually does - because going out to lunch always takes longer than planned - but it’s fine. He can make up the time tomorrow if he really wants to.

“I can’t wait to eat seven breadsticks,” Taemin says, mostly to himself. It’s still only eleven o’ clock, it’s no doubt another hour before they leave for lunch.

“Seven breadsticks?” Key laughs.

“They’re free,” Taemin says. “I’m going to eat as many as possible. Maybe even eight.”

They bicker about the amount of breadsticks one can consume in a single sitting for another seven minutes. Until Minho comes into Taemin’s cubicle and insists they need to look at part of their current assignment. Taemin just thinks he’s jealous that he won’t be getting to eat breadsticks today.

“So what’s with you and Minho?” Taemin asks while he sits in the back of Key’s car. Boa is in the front seat again, and Yunho is sitting in the back with Taemin.

Boa and Yunho laugh, and Key just scoffs.

“We literally joined on the exact same day,” Key starts. “He just annoys me. It’s nothing specific.”

“They used to bicker like an old married couple,” Yunho says.

“Until they both went to different teams,” Boa adds.

“And now their cubicles are next to each other again and it’s hilarious,” Yunho laughs.

Taemin is smiling, but he’s back to being a little uncomfortable. He’s getting used to the members of Key’s team little by little, but it still takes him a while to warm up to people. He can’t help it.

“He’s nice to me,” Taemin says with a shrug.

“He’s an ass to you,” Key scoffs. “You’re just too nice to notice.”

“How’s he an ass?”

“He pushes so much of his own work off on you,” Key says, and Taemin can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “He used to do it to me too. It’s not on purpose I don’t think - he probably doesn’t realize it - but it’s annoying. I’m annoyed for you.”

“Oh,” is all Taemin says. He hadn’t noticed. But Minho does give him a lot of extra work that Baekhyun doesn’t.

“He’s also not your boss - or anyone’s boss - but he likes to act like it,” Key scoffs. “He’s nice, I won’t deny that. He’s a cool guy. But he’s just annoying to work with is all.”

“So do you like your position?” Boa asks.

“Um,” Taemin stutters. “It’s alright. I can’t complain.”

“So what do you know about contracts?” Yunho asks.

“Uh - it’s what you guys do?”

“Are interested in it?”

“I guess? Sure.”

“Cool.”

They immediately start talking about something else, then park in front of Olive Garden and go inside to meet the rest of the team for lunch. Taemin is so confused. But he’s looking forward to his breadsticks and soup so he quickly forgets it.

Lunch lasts an hour and fifteen minutes. By the time they get back, Taemin has been gone for an hour and thirty three minutes.

While they were in the car on the way back, Taemin texts his brother.

“I’m making more work friends!”

“That’s great!” Jinki texts back. “You just needed to open up a little bit. See? You need to listen to your big brother. I’m very wise.”

“Shut up.”

Taemin stays an extra hour at work that night, then decides to go in an extra half hour early tomorrow to make up the time. Key sounds surprised when Taemin comes in at seven thirty on Tuesday instead of eight. Taemin smirks. He likes to keep people on their toes sometimes.

#taemin #shinee #onew #key #minho #cubicle au #wantonewsbabies #im exhausted and chugging coffee and i rly want breadsticks can u tell

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snappedsky · 5 years

Text

Borderlands: Skies the Bodyguard 1

The Vault Hunters meet the Slabs. Previous! Next!

Chapter 19

“Okay, gimme one black, one half and half. Uh two whole wheat bagels with cream cheese and- oh, those are cute. And two of those little cat cake pops.”

The barista quickly gathered my order and handed me a cup tray with the two coffees and a bag holding the baked goods. I nodded my thanks and turned to leave. The coffee shop was full of morning commuters but they gave me a wide berth while also glaring at me like I was trash. The contradiction still makes me grin.

I made my way through the Hub of Heroism to Jack’s office. He was still in the same spot I left him the night before: at his desk, watching the computer screen.

The Vault Hunters had spent the last couple days in Sanctuary, which meant nothing but black screens. Jack figured they were planning something and he was frustrated that he couldn’t figure out what. But he wasn’t taking that frustration out on me so I was happy.

“Mornin’, Jackie,” I said as I took my usual seat by his side. “I brought breakfast.”

I opened the bag and took out the cake pops and the bagels.

“Oh, yum,” Jack chimed and reached for a cake pop.

“Ah,” I scolded, pulling it out of reach and handing him a bagel. “Breakfast first, then dessert.”

“What are you, my mother?” he scoffed but started eating the bagel.

“My job is to take care of you, I figure that means nutritionally too,” I shrugged and turned to the screen. I lit up when I noticed the Vault Hunters were actually doing something. They were just driving in a technical but still more interesting than a black screen.

“Finally some action,” I commented as I leaned back, drinking my coffee. “What are they up to?”

“Not sure. They finally just left Sanctuary and they haven’t brought up any part of their plan,” Jack replied bitterly, “they’re getting smarter…”

“Yeah, ‘getting’,” I muttered under my breath then asked, “well, what do you think they’re up to?”

“They must want to get the Vault Key,” he mused, “but there’s absolutely no way they could possibly get through my security measures. Plus they wouldn’t even know where it is.”

I immediately thought of Angel but I didn’t say anything. Instead I said, “maybe they’re trying to gather intel.”

Jack snorted. “Well, they won’t find any of that here.”

“Huh?” I questioned and realized they were in an area I didn’t recognize. “What’s this?”

“Thousand Cuts,” Jack replied, “half of it is controlled by moi, the other half is controlled by a group of bandits called Slabs. They must be here to see the Slab King.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He’s an old friend of Roland’s. Real name’s Brick.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of him from your bounty listings. So with Mordecai and Lilith, Roland must be getting the team back together.”

“Looks like it,” Jack grunted and smirked. “At least that way I can destroy them all at once.”

I made sure Jack couldn’t see the look of uncertainty on my face as I focused on the screen. The Vault Hunters were busy fighting the Slabs.

“You sure Roland and Brick are still friends?” I asked, “why are his bandits trying to kill them?”

“Pft, I don’t care,” Jack scoffed, “bandits are always tryin’ to kill each other.”

I shrugged agreeably and enjoyed watching the fight. The Vault Hunters shot their way through Slab Town and eventually arrived at some kind of old factory building where they met the Slab King, Brick.

“Damn,” I exclaimed, “dude looks like he’s made of brick.”

“He’s just a wall of meat,” Jack scoffed then chewed the inside of his cheek. “You know, maybe I can use this chance to blow them all up right now.”

I looked at him curiously as he turned on the mic.

“So, the Vault Hunters met the Slabs,” he said, “what a lovely opportunity to kill two bandits with one mortar assault.”

He pushed a button on his keyboard and the Vault Hunters looked up at Helios as shots plummeted down all over the town. As they landed, I noticed they were a few beacons with energy shields and lots and lots of bots. Quickly followed were missile shots that slowly started destroying the town.

The Vault Hunters, with Brick, quickly got to work fighting the robots to try and get to the beacons. The robots didn’t stand a chance. They Vault Hunters were quickly turning them into scrap while Brick got to work on the beacons and Jack was getting pissed.

“Hey! Nobody destroys my beacons!” he barked into the mic and sent down more robots.

I chewed on my metal thumb as I watched the battle. We were losing horribly, though I wasn’t surprised. It was still torture.

Finally after they destroyed the second beacon, I jumped to my feet.

“Send me down, Jack!” I begged, “I hold them off, they won’t stand a chance!”

“No way,” Jack snapped, “first of all, if those beacons stay intact, nothing near that town will survive. Secondly, how do we know your prosthetics won’t crap out again?”

I flinched. “Uh, y-you ran diagnostics on them and said they were fine.”

“Yeah, and that’s what bothers me. If they’re fine than why did they stop working during that fight?” he asked. I clamped my mouth shut, unable to answer. “You are staying benched.”

I turned away, tugging at my beanie with frustration. I knew Jack was right. If I tried to fight them again, Angel would definitely interfere. For a second, I thought I should tell him about her. But I didn’t. Instead, I agonizingly watched the Vault Hunters destroy the beacons and save Slab Town, while Jack got more and more irate.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed with annoyance as he activated his Pandora-wide mic.

“People of Pandora,” he said, “the jackass Vault Hunters have joined the Slab bandit clan and that can only mean one thing. It’s triple bounty week for all Slabs! I want scalps, people, and I want ‘em now!”

He fell back in his seat, glaring at the screen with aggravation. I did the same and sighed.

“Now what?” I asked.

He shrugged lazily. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever they’re planning, they definitely cannot get the Vault Key. And soon it’ll be charged, I’ll have the Warrior, and they’ll all be destroyed.”

He grinned darkly as he tapped his fingers together. “It’s only a matter of time.”

I grimaced as the Vault Hunters went back to Sanctuary and the screens went dark. I just…wasn’t so sure.

#borderlands #borderlands 2 #borderlands fanfiction #Borderlands 2 fanfiction #borderlands au #my oc #my art

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flowerbeom · 6 years

Text

BTS Reactions: You falling asleep in funny/weird places ~~ Hyung Line

---

Seokjin

The summer was relentless. When not having to brave the outside heat, you and Jin remained in the safety of your apartment. The heatwave was the worst the city had dealt with in years and even with all the insulation and cooling, your apartment could not withstand against it.

Heat seeped in through the walls and windows causing you and Jin to take refuge in the living room, positioned exactly in the jet stream of the air conditioner. You had sprawled yourself out on the couch with Jin sitting on the floor against it. You were both reading, you a novel and Jin a comic, as you both agreed that turning on the TV or using a computer would only add to the heat already suffocating you in your home. Without moving, you separated your lips to mumble at Jin.

“Drink?”

Jin replied in kind, merely grumbling from the back of his throat. “Ehh?”

“Do you want a drink?” Jin flopped his head back, dropping onto the couch by your leg. He looked up at you through his lashes and smiled a toothy grin. You patted his forehead and lumbered off the couch, your limbs heavy. You waded through the heat to the kitchen and pulled two glasses from the cabinet. You bent down to the freezer and pulled out the ice tray before fumbling and dropping it to the ground. Easing onto your knees to pick up the loose pieces of ice, you sighed in relief as the cold tiles sent surges of reprieve through your body.

Jin dragged his finger across a page of his comic and realised he had come to the end. He closed the comic, placed it beside him on the floor and turned to speak to you. Finding the empty couch behind him, he remembered you had gone to fetch a drink. Realising how long it had been since you traipsed to the kitchen, he thought to check on you.

Jin let out a shriek at the sight of you, lying unconscious, spread out on the kitchen floor, ice cube tray in your hand and pools of water around you. Jin rushed to your side, cradling your head in the crook of his arm and wiping the hair away from your face.

“Baby! Baby, wake up, are you okay?! BABY!?” He shrilled, distress engulfing him while he rocked your body. Your eyes slowly slit open as you swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth. You looked up to see Jin’s eyes filled with concern and furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Oh hello.” You smiled, pushing Jin’s fringe off his face.

“Oh hello?! Oh HELLO?! Did you pass out? Are you hurt? Why are you on the kitchen floor?! Are you okay?!” Jin screeched, rocking your body more intensely than before. You sat up and laughed.

“Oh!” Still laughing. “The kitchen floor is really cold, I thought it’d be a good spot for a nap.” Jin’s face dropped into a stone-cold stare, his hands dropping from your face. You could feel his irritation burning hotter than the sun outside. Standing up and walking to the sink, he filled a glass with water and skulled it dry before turning to you with the same icy look in his eyes.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Yoongi

Yoongi was pulled from focus at the sound of his doorbell. Pushing away from the desk, Yoongi stood up quickly to open the door, knowing it was you. You regularly came by his studio after finishing your lectures as it was on the way home. Yoongi opened the door with a wide smile lighting his eyes to the odd sight of you, dull and hunched over.

“Babe?” His voice, tender and affectionate.

You lifted your face to meet his and moulded your lips into a stiff smile. You had spent the last thirty-six hours fine tuning your doctorate thesis before submitting it earlier that day, only sleeping in small thirty-minute blocks every few hours, so you didn’t completely burn out. Yoongi gently grasped your held and led you into the studio.

“All done?” He asked, while carefully taking your bag off your shoulder and sliding your jacket off your back. You nodded slowly and held two thumbs up, despite your exhaustion, causing Yoongi to chuckle through his gummy smile. He walked you over to the couch but stood stunned as you shook your head and brushed past him, pulling a spare chair towards his desk.

“I have notes to revise before tomorrow’s lecture. My students are reading ahead, and I need to change some of my examples.” Yoongi tilted his head in awe, impressed at your dedication. He plopped into his chair beside you and rubbed circles into your back.

“Are you sure? Maybe have a nap then do some work?” You shook your head again while typing your password into your laptop. Yoongi grumbled in acceptance as he leant over to kiss your shoulder; you already furiously reading relevant articles for your upcoming lecture.

Yoongi began working on his track again, rolling back and forth between his desk and keyboard. Every so often he’d look over to you and see you hunched over your notebook, writing notes feverishly.

He had spent a while arranging a bridge section at the keyboard when he spun around in his chair to ask if you were hungry. At first glance, he thought you were reading but then he noticed your head lopped on the desk. Your arms had slid off your lap and hung listlessly between your legs. Your pen dangled in your fingers as you breathed heavily in your deep slumber. Yoongi slowly stepped around you to look at your face. His face crumpled as he stifled laughter at the sight of your mouth open, with your snores slowly getting louder.

Yoongi picked up your jacket from the couch and placed it over your shoulders. He lifted your arms back onto your lap and brushed your hair away from your face. He bent down to kiss your cheek but was interrupted by your sudden muttering.

“If you refer to the diagram on the screen you will see a tiny horse….”

Yoongi’s eyes shut tight as his lips pressed together, trying to muffle any sound of amusement coming out. He knelt down and rested his chin on the desk and gazed over your small frame napping blissfully. Getting enough delight from watching you sleep, he stood up slowly and successfully kissed your cheek on the way up.

“Sleep tight, tiny horse.”

Hoseok

“5. 6. 5-6-7-8!”

Music blared in the practice room as you and Hoseok moved in sync to it. Working with Hoseok with his choreography was not difficult, but it was exhausting. It was even more so with the concert coming up in a few weeks.

You and Hoseok narrowed in on all the parts of choreography and staging that needed work and relentlessly honed it all until his body knew nothing but the routine. Your body on the other hand ached and every nerve was on edge. You could feel your chest tinge with pain as you breathed and knew you needed to rest. You tapped Hoseok on the shoulder and pointed to your bag in the corner, gesturing that you needed to sit down. Hoseok nodded kindly and patted the back of your head.

You trudged to your bag and yanked your hoodie out of it. You fished one arm through a sleeve and pulled your head through the collar, the hood engulfing your head. You pushed your back into the mirror behind you and slid down, plopping to the ground, your legs spread out in front of you. Before snaking your arm through the other sleeve, you took your phone out of the side pocket of your bag to check for any messages.

Hoseok continued to rehearse, firstly in silence, marking through the steps with the music only playing in his head. Once confident with his execution, Hoseok grabbed the remote from the stool near him and pressed play; music once again blaring in the studio. His body glided through the choreography, seeming effortless. Hoseok turned towards you to see your reaction at his perfect performance but burst out in laughter.

He found you knocked out; leant against the mirror, hoodie only half on with the hood completely covering your face except for your mouth which was slightly open. You were cradling your phone in one hand while the other was slumped beside you. He walked towards you giggling, confused as to how you fell asleep despite the blaring music filling the studio.

Hoseok could not believe his eyes as the heavy bass shook the mirror behind you, causing you to slip down marginally with every beat. He crouched down before you, his mouth gaping as you slid further and further down the mirror, finally finishing on your back with your head bent at a ridiculous angle against the mirror. Hoseok hobbled forward and wrapped his hands around your ankles and tugged lightly, releasing your head but causing it knock sharply on the ground.

You groaned, lifting a hand to the back of your head and stretching your entire body out straight. You realised you had fallen asleep and sat up quickly to find Hoseok beaming, a smile so large it looked like his jaw would dislocate. You rubbed your eyes with one hand and flung your arm across, trying to shoo Hoseok away. He caught your hand abruptly and pulled you to your feet. He chuckled while dusting you off.

“Need help with your hoodie?”

Namjoon

You and Namjoon agreed to meet for lunch to break up your hectic work day. Your firm was handling a large class action against a major bank and everyone was working overtime, including you. Namjoon's recording sessions were long as per usual and we're running late into the evenings, causing a lack of quality time for your relationship. You decided to meet in the city park that was conveniently half way between your office and his studio.

You strolled through the park to your usual spot, a park bench shaded by a tall willow tree. You pulled your phone from your blazer pocket and messaged Namjoon.

"Ready when you are, handsome."

"Be there in 5, beautiful! Start eating!"

You knew that Namjoon would rather spend your fleeting time together talking and fooling around, rather than pausing to chew and swallow. You carefully unwrapped your sandwich and began taking bites.

You had spent the last few nights ardously working on briefs that you took to showering in the office basement and sleeping in the staff lounge. The glow of the sunlight shone through the billowing branches of the willow tree and warmed your face as you sat quietly waiting for Namjoon. You began to feel the call of sleep washing over your exhausted body.

Namjoon strode purposefully across the park to get to you as soon as he could. He missed holding you in his arms and his eagerness glowed on his face. He held a single iris in his hand, wanting to surprise you with your favourite flower after having not seen you in so long.

He rounded the bend and saw you sitting beneath the willow tree. He noticed your stillness with your head hung low. As he approached you he saw the sandwich, held idly in your hands, being pecked at by a single sparrow who had perched itself on your leg.

Namjoon stepped slowly towards you and saw your face, soft in its trance like state. He smiled tenderly at your small frame lost in sleep, his dimples intensifying with every second he gazed at you.

He gingerly stepped closer to you, waving his hands to scare away the sparrow. To his behest, the sparrow merely hopped to your other leg and resumed pecking at your sandwich. Namjoon tried making shooing noises and flicking his hand in the air closer to it but the bird did not move. Frustrated, Namjoon violently waved his hand and accidentally whacked the sandwich out of your grasp, the sparrow finally flying away.

You jolted awake to find Namjoon crouched in front of you, picking up pieces of lettuce and tomato from the floor, an embarrassed look on his face.

"Hi Joonie. Ahhh.. wh-what happened to my sandwich?" You said, stretching out your arms and cracking your neck.

"Hi! Well, so you see, there was a bird and it was eating your sandwich, bu-but you were asleep so I tried to shoo it away but I-I hit your sandwich out of your hand instead and now you're awake and I'm picking up cheese off the ground and this it where we're at...so yeh. Yes.. Hello." Namjoon rambled out, breathlessly.

You felt your cheeks curl into a smile and you slid off the bench to kneel in front of Namjoon. He met your stare and grinned earnestly. You leant forward and drew him into a deep kiss. Namjoon's lips did not leave yours as he dropped the food from his hands and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in strongly. You felt his lips mouth a quiet "I'm sorry" against yours before you pulled away and laughed. Shaking your head, you poked his dimple playfully.

Namjoon reached behind you to pick up the iris and handed it to you. Affection shining in his eyes, he lifted you up and sat you on the bench before sitting next to you.

"Shall I buy you lunch?"

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts #bts jin #bts suga #bts jhope #bts namjoon #bantansonyeondan #bantang boys #min yoongi #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #kim namjoon

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donewithjeon · 6 years

Text

Downfall [23]

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 10,206

Genre: Assassin AU

Given the current circumstances that you’re in, you find what you’re about to do to be completely unnecessary—childish, even. But what can you say?

Old habits die hard.

Waking up at a decent time for a change, all thanks to Hoseok’s adjustment to the concoction’s effectiveness, the first thing you do is check your phone for anything you may have missed. You are greeted with no notifications on the screen, which means that there are no orders for the time being—which then means that there is no need for you to check in to headquarters right away.

This is good news for you, since you have a special errand to run.

You take your time to get ready for your outing before heading down to the apartment complex’s garage, where a company car is waiting to be borrowed with one destination in mind.

Garosu-gil.

To be honest, there are many other places below the Han you could have chosen to run your errand, but you have always been partial to this area. It’s not particularly close to your living quarters, but the street is packed with a wide variety of shops all conveniently placed in close concurrence to one another.

While Garosu-gil is aptly named for the ginkgo trees planted along the streets, the area is mostly known for its trendy boutiques and popular cafés. In general, all of the stores fall in the upscale category, making it not too budget-friendly, but to you, this is a good thing. It means that there are less people around compared to other popular destinations such as Hongdae or Myeongdong, which means you can carry out your task with minimal hassle and unnecessary contact with crowds.

On top of that, it’s still a bit early in the day, so not too many of the establishments are open for business yet. Usually, this would be an undesirable matter for visitors shopping in the area, but it’s not like you’re here to go on a shopping spree for fancy dresses and purses.

You’re here for one reason only, and you’re able to easily meet your goal with the first shop you see.

The elevator doors slide closed in front of you as you stand inside the confined space with a simple, white box in your hand. Your morning detour didn’t take very long to complete, and now you’re back at headquarters with the feeling of regret already starting to sink in. You stare at the panel of buttons, each one representing a floor of this lofty building, but none of them are activated yet. You eye a particular one that you know will lead to the infirmary and recovery center, but you can’t bring yourself to push the number.

You were told to stay away, after all.

You find yourself in a dilemma as your mind starts racing over what should be a simple decision compared to many others you had to make during missions and urgent situations. The elevator doesn’t budge from its place on the first level, taunting you with the fact that it has no destination to go to until you make that decision. In order to prevent yourself from overthinking things even further, your free hand instinctively reaches forward to give the number 17 a light tap. The button emits a glow immediately, and soon, the elevator spurs into motion.

This is probably the best bet, and hopefully the least embarrassing route.

Once you make it out of your existential elevator and past the guard on duty who always seems to be less than enthusiastic in his demeanor, you place a few knocks on the acquainted wooden door before letting yourself in.

Jin’s office is neat and organized as always with the layout staying the same as it has always been—you doubt he has the time and energy to redecorate. Your supervisor is sitting in his usual spot at his desk, a few stacks of papers laid out in front of him as his hands hover over the keyboard of his computer. He suspends whatever task he is in the middle of when you walk up to him, and he greets you with a pleasant grin.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I have a favor to ask,” you start off, making your way to the front of his desk. Jin glances at the box in your hands and his eyes light up in recognition of what the contents may be.

“Come to butter me up?” You chuckle at his reaction, but promptly shake your head.

“No, it’s not that,” you deny, carefully placing the box on a section of the wooden surface before you that is free of his possessions. “Can you give this to Jungkook for me?”

At the sound of your request, Jin’s gaze flits over to the side of his desk where his calendar sits among a few other items. “Is it September already?” he wonders aloud, a pensive expression appearing on his face for just a moment. “Time really flies,” he exhales like a sigh before turning his attention back towards you. “I will make sure this gets to him.”

“Thanks.” You respond to his reassuring answer with a smile. With no other business with your superior, you grant him a curt nod and proceed to exit his room, knowing fully well that he’ll carry out his word no matter how trivial the favor appears to be.

Just as you thought, you can always count on Jin.

You have to say, you couldn’t agree more with his sentiment about time. Every year seems to go by quicker than the last, yet you can’t say that they’re going by with more ease. It just feels like all the worries and problems from the previous years are stacking atop one another, only disappearing out of sight once they’re buried by the current year’s concerns.

You want to say that things were simpler back in the day, but things were never really simple for you. You’ve already accepted the truth that they will most likely never be as long as you’re alive.

If anything, things are only going to get far more complicated.

A blink of light diverts your attention from the target in front of you, causing you to pause in the middle of practicing your pistol aim. You spent a bit of time before this in the armory, sharpening your weapons of choice, but the task of knife maintenance has become second nature by now; it wasn’t quite enough to preoccupy your mind, let alone serve as the distraction you needed, so you resorted to hitting the shooting range to polish up your skills.

When you glance down at the tray in front of you, you not only see that it’s already the early evening, but your phone’s screen has been awakened by a new notification—it’s a message from Jin. You put your handgun down to pick up the device instead, unlocking it in order to read what he has sent you.

Office in 10.

There’s no doubt about this one—it must be a new job.

You’re prompt with clearing up your station, working at an elevated pace so that you can make it in the amount of time granted to you. Thankfully, all you have to do is head over to the elevator, and a brief lift to the 17th floor leads you right back to where you were this morning as you approach the office entrance with two minutes to spare.

The moment you walk inside though, not only do you notice Yoongi sitting comfortably on one of the couches, but you also meet eyes with Hoseok who is across from him, although his posture is not nearly as lax. The latter greets you with a soft smile as you enter the room, and while the gesture should offer you comfort, the presence of your team’s weapons specialist only means one thing.

It’s going to be a big one tonight.

Once everyone arrives, and it truly is everyone currently active on the team, Jin’s explanation of the mission gets underway. It starts off like most of the briefings regularly do as your supervisor gives a general overview of what the job calls for. This time, it’s an infiltration mission, but the main goal is not to exterminate the enemies. Instead, it’s to destroy the information that they stole from your organization.

“The part of the system that was attacked was corrupted after the info was taken, and while that brought the issue to our attention, any clues that might have been there are lost with the data. We do have a lead, but I don’t have further intel for you guys regarding the building’s layout. Unfortunately, the entire structure is off the grid.”

“How did you find out about it then?” you ask Jin, always the one to contribute the most questions no matter their relevance.

“Our informant downstairs—the one who tipped us off about the church as well. He’s proven to be quite useful.”

“You’re welcome,” Jimin proudly proclaims out of the blue.

You turn your head to give him a quirk of the eyebrow, which is more of a reaction than what Jin awards him by dismissing the comment completely and continuing to fill you in on the mission’s details.

The bad news with the structure being off the grid is that you won’t have anything to go off of in order to organize a break in. The good news is that this detail most certainly confirms that this is the hideout you’re looking for—not just any old place would be hidden so well.

You don’t want to jinx anything with your over-enthusiastic thoughts, but it feels as if things are finally going somewhere with this investigation; it’s like the map of the big picture is slowly being filled out. No one has said it outright yet, but it seems as though there is a high chance that the man sitting in the dungeon, the one whom Jimin boastfully got intel from, is the mole your organization has been searching for. That would explain how this person possesses all this crucial information, but the next question you would be concerned with as the organization is why—but perhaps that question has already been answered, as well.

It’s difficult to keep up with the advancement of an operation of this magnitude, especially with the compartmentalization of data, but as long as you are witnessing progress, you can’t complain.

What you can criticize are the details of tonight’s mission.

You find it odd that you’re being ordered to go and physically take care of the stolen information. Usually, situations such as this one are handled digitally in a technological battle of sorts. Actually, the more you think about it, you don’t recall many incidents where the organization’s data ever got stolen—it rarely happens due to the ineffable security systems that protect anything and everything the company wants to keep under lock and key.

Another detail raising your curiosity is that you aren’t going to retrieve the pilfered data—you’re going to destroy it. The evidence is valuable enough to go to extreme lengths to make sure it doesn’t get into or stay in the wrong hands, but apparently, it’s not worth the effort of trying to salvage it. That alone seems off-putting, but you’re sure there are other specifics you are not aware of.

With every passing day, the concept of blind faith is being taken to a whole new level.

You’re used to it by now, as irked as it may make you, and while you appreciate Jin’s candidness with your team when it comes to divulging some fine points of your missions, you can’t help but think of it as a double-edged sword—what he gives you is never satisfying, but it’s just enough to pique your interest to make you start questioning things.

Your job tonight is to infiltrate the enemy building, destroy the stolen evidence, and kill everyone on site—but the kicker is that the last step won’t be done by your regular means.

It will be done by Hoseok’s means.

Once the briefing is finished, the team splits apart in the usual manner to prepare for the mission. Most of the others go with Hoseok to help him gather and load tonight’s ammunition into the van. As for you, the armory you were just in before this meeting looks very promising, not because you need to acquire anything from there per se, but because your brother is heading towards that direction all by his lonesome.

Why you guys are going as far as using explosives to complete the job is beyond your comprehension—in almost all cases, bombs have only been brought in to seal the eradication goods, not people, especially when the good old tactic of going in and getting your hands dirty has been working perfectly fine until now. You would brush it off as being a cautious or safe move due to the unknown nature of the location, but to be quite honest, any time Hoseok’s involved, things tend to get blown out of proportion.

“Don’t you think something seems off?”

No time is squandered in posing your query once you are far enough out of earshot of the others. Namjoon stops in his tracks in the hallway and turns around as you stride up next to him. He doesn’t say anything, but judging by his face, he’s waiting for you to continue your thought, if not just to humor you for the time being.

You have to admit, you gave your brother a whole lot of grief throughout the years by arguing about many of the orders you were given, but this time, you’re not looking to pick a fight—you just need to confirm your suspicions.

“If this is our information that they stole, shouldn’t we be extracting it instead of destroying it? Jin said it himself that it was taken and wiped from our database.”

The look Namjoon gives you is no longer one of tolerance, but it’s a strained stare where the growing tension is released only by a sigh escaping past his lips.

“Why do you always feel the need to question every job you’re assigned?” Namjoon retorts in a rather defeated manner, but it’s with good reason, given that he’s the victim of the majority of your gripes and grumbles.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” You furrow your eyebrows as you drift off to your thoughts once more, all but convinced about it all without even needing the secondary support.

Namjoon suddenly takes a step forward to make the distance between you two a little shorter, and as you glance at him, you notice that his demeanor has changed completely. Sometimes you forget just how capable your brother is of being intimidating, but instances like this do well to jog your memory.

“I know that look,” he states lowly with his eyes boring into you with disapproval in a way you always despised. “I’m warning you now—don’t do anything stupid.”

You merely offer him a nod, although you’re not really sure how sincere it comes off as. You’re sure he knows that the meager response will be the best he’ll get out of you for now, even if it’s not necessarily adequate. Still, it appeases your brother for now, making him back off from his stance.

Sure, Namjoon can be an intimidating figure when he wants to be, but regrettably for him, that act stopped working on you when you were 12.

As he walks off to resume his preparations for the mission, you do not continue following him, having fulfilled the initial purpose of doing so. Instead, you head towards the parking garage in order to meet up with the others, your lips pressed together with the words you so badly wanted to say in place of the obliging nod.

No guarantees.

“How does it look on the other side?”

“The same. No guards, no windows, no doors,” you provide in response to Namjoon over the comms.

After a preliminary sweep of the area to scout out any potential points of entry, you end up with nothing once again. This is the case more often than not for most uncharted locations you’re given, but unfortunately for your team, knocking on the front door isn’t a viable option this time around.

“That’s unfortunate.”

It truly is. The drive out to your destination wasn’t exactly short, and the sky has already darkened from dusk to provide you all with the natural camouflage of nightfall. This proved to be useful in your push to your primary positions, but now you’re faced with the predicament that the building is fortified more than you’d like, but not in the way you would expect.

As with many jobs, you find yourself in a rural area near the edge of the city that is occupied by industrial buildings rather than residential ones. It’s a pretty run-down neighborhood filled with warehouses and large storage units, but the biggest reason for the battered state is only because you’re sure that these structures were built over 50 years ago.

Your point of interest is a shabby, two-story building made of red bricks that look to be weathered due to the many decades of exposure to the elements, judging by the crumbling edges—you understand now why it’s off the grid. You’re not even sure if you’ll be needing Hoseok’s explosives, because it looks like a strong gust of wind could blow the place down, contrary to popular belief based on The Three Little Pigs. However, it’s highly unlikely that nature will be that generous, so you’ll just have to take on the role of the Big Bad Wolf and finish the job.

The team broke in half the moment you arrived, with you scanning the western perimeter with Jimin and Taehyung while Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok examined the other side of the building. The findings are inconclusive so far, and things aren’t looking very opportune. While it’s great that the structure is in poor condition, Hoseok also mentioned that it’s too vast for him to guarantee that it’ll completely collapse by only sabotaging the outer walls. That means you must find a way inside to plant the explosives throughout the interior.

That brings you back to square one.

There are a couple of metal doors at the back of the warehouse, but there don’t seem to be any locks or handles for you to even attempt to pick; you can assume that those can only be opened from the inside. There are also a few windows higher up on the adjacent walls, but they are barred and seem to have been for a long time, as displayed by the rust that matches the red of the bricks. There’s no way for any of you to access the roof to even check if there’s a way in through there; the lack of ladders to climb and other buildings nearby to jump from forces you all to persist on the ground floor. There appears to be virtually no way to sneak in.

Well, there is one way.

“Rally to my position. I have an idea.”

And you’re looking right at it.

During your inspection of the building, you noticed several small air vents lining the bottom of each wall that look to be directly connected to the rooms on the other side. While those are far too narrow for any full-grown human to squeeze through, they give you an idea of whether or not the contiguous rooms are currently vacant or not. Some of the vents remain as dark as the area outside, but others have light streaming through the openings of the grilles, giving you the impression that someone very well may be in there.

That’s where the other vent comes in.

You’re staring at another grille located at the back of the building that is covering a much larger opening for the building’s ventilation system. With this one, you’re confident that you’ll be able to fit through easily as long as you get a substantial boost—you’re fairly certain that it’ll put you above the first level and right under the second. The opening coupled with the discovery that the floor vent nearest to this infiltration point shines no light through it instills the belief that you may just be able to pull this off.

“No, that’s an insane idea.”

Of course, that’s only if your team lets you—more specifically, if Namjoon lets you. While he let you explain your grand scheme of crawling through the vent and planting the explosives discreetly, you’re faced with renunciation at the end of your appeal.

“Do you have a better plan?”

Namjoon keeps his mouth shut as he stares at you, as if hoping that his look of denunciation will be enough to change your mind. It’s not often that your team’s strategist is at a loss for words, and you plan on taking advantage of this opportunity.

“This is the only way without going in and taking people out manually—actually, this is the only way in, period. We have to keep a low profile, right? I’m just trying to do what you said and following the assignment given to me.” You’re sure that your brother felt the bite in that last comment, but his expression doesn’t budge.

“What if she suffocates?” you overhear Taehyung ask from the side.

“I’m sure they still have the AC on. It was pretty hot today,” Jimin replies nonchalantly. Clearly, the two of them are in their own world with different priorities steering their conversation.

“We’ll have some of the others follow you through the vent to provide back-up,” Namjoon suddenly extends. You still haven’t gotten a solid green light for the plan, but it seems like he’s trying to negotiate the terms to come to an agreement.

“You guys are going to wake up the entire block if you do that,” you counter, refusing to give him any slack, but it isn’t without purpose.

While the vent is roomy enough for most of you to fit through—some being more cramped for space than others—you decided to volunteer as the sole torchbearer, if the torch were deadly explosives. Even if everyone is able to crawl in, it would not be a smart move to have the entire team clambering around in the ventilation system like a pack of oversized rats. The mission would be over before it even started.

You pride yourself in being the nimblest of your group, and you always have—quiet and quick are two attributes you have honed as your strengths since the beginning of your training. If anyone is going to be able to sneak in, rig the place with the bombs, and get out before Hoseok detonates them remotely, it’s going to be you.

It’s a little burdensome to have the fate of the mission resting solely on your shoulders, but you welcome the responsibility. You’ll take this over the beginning of your time on this team any day.

If you fail to be discreet and somehow manage to alert the enemies, it’s going to be game over. You know you won’t be able to take all the assailants inside the building by yourself if that happens, which is why you just have to be poised in your abilities to not let that happen. If worse comes to worst, you can always hightail it to one of the exits to allow the rest of the team to provide you with backup.

It’s a risk, but you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t one to take them.

Whether it’s due to being pressed for time or being convinced by your brilliant justifications, Namjoon begrudgingly accepts your proposition. After confirming that none of your other teammates have any qualms with your plan, the arrangements to put it in motion begin.

You’re hoisted up by two of the boys in order to get the grille off of the opening. It takes a bit of gentle but determined jostling, but you’re able to free the rectangular grate from the wall without causing a ruckus. You hand the metal panel down to Yoongi below who takes it out of your hands, and Hoseok replaces the item with a black backpack, one of many that you guys brought from headquarters.

While you aren’t exactly sure what’s inside these backpacks, be it C-4, TNT, or some kind of hybrid mixture Hoseok created, it doesn’t matter to you. All you know is that they’re high explosives you need to spread out on at least one of the inner walls of the building, and if your weapons specialist says that this is enough to make the structure go down, it will go down.

The other bags are distributed throughout the team, and while you are carrying out your part of the mission, they will carry out theirs by rigging the exterior supports with the rest of the bombs.

You take the backpack you’re given and place it into the vent’s opening before Hoseok hands you another one, just so the first doesn’t get lonely. You shove that one in as well, and once you’re sure that they’re far enough in, you gesture your teammates with a thumbs up to signal that you’re ready.

Being hoisted even higher, you’re able to get your head and arms into the vent, and with a bit of effort on both your end and the human forklifts’, you twist your body so that you slide into the metal tunnel on your back. One final push has your head nudging the backpacks you sent in front of you, and your legs are all the way inside along with your feet that are currently shoeless—you don’t want any unnecessary bulk causing a racket.

“Give us the signal when you’re all set,” Namjoon instructs, the sound coming through your earpiece distinctly.

“Good luck,” you hear Taehyung add on, his voice lowered to a whisper.

With that, you’re off.

Saying that it’s awkward shimmying through an air vent would be a severe understatement. It’s completely dark and musty in here, and the opening your teammates left you does nothing to bring in illumination. Your sheathed dagger feels uncomfortable under you as if it’s a speed bump at the back of your waist you cannot go over. You’re just glad that this is an industrial building fitted with an industrial ventilation system. Otherwise, you would actually have to be a mouse to fit. The aspect that you need to slide the bags above you as well makes things more difficult to manage, not to mention that you’re trying to be as silent as possible the entire time; it’s definitely enough to make you work up a nervous sweat.

Crawling through a vent with backpacks full of explosives—what could go wrong?

You continue to push on despite the fact that you feel like it’s getting stuffier by the second. You need to find an exit and fast, since it’s hardly realistic to spend more than a few minutes in here; it’s not exactly an efficient mode of sneaking.

You’re surprised at the state of these metal tunnels though. It’s almost a given that they are riddled with dust and other particles, but they’re exceptionally sturdy, seeing that it’s holding your weight without so much as a creak. You suspect that it has been remodeled not too long ago—the condition of it doesn’t match that of the decrepit building itself.

Unfortunately, there’s no more time for you to admire the building’s integrity, because you have found what you’ve been looking for: a way in. You don’t realize that the side of the vent you’re approaching has a different texture until you’re grazing your shoulder with it. A few more investigatory grasps with your hand indicate that this is indeed a grate, and a pretty sizable one at that.

Peering through the cracks, the room looks just as pitch black as the vent you are lying in. You strain your ears for a few seconds for signs of any movement, but all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing and the occasional confirmations through the comms by your other teammates.

Since the coast seems clear, you proceed to try and get a steady grip on the grate as you employ the same motion as before to loosen it out of place. With a bit of coaxing, you feel the grille give way and slip out of place. As you try to push it further out, you notice that only the top two corners are free; the bottom edge remains in place by a hinge that allows the panel to stay attached after swinging down. This helps out your case immensely, since you won’t have to juggle with a giant sheet of metal on your way down. You’re able to extend your upper body just a little more and silently let the grate go so that it rests flat against the wall below the opening.

You halt for a moment just to make sure no one heard you and scan the room once more now that you have a better view. Your eyes are finally starting to adjust to the darkness, and you’re able to examine your surroundings with more clarity. The drop below doesn’t look to be that far at all, with the grille having been installed in the partition rather than the ceiling. There are what appear to be filing cabinets of some sort off to the right side against the wall, and several more are spread throughout the lengthy room to give you the impression that this place is used for storage. The outline of a door is visible on the wall opposite to the one you’re currently at, and from what you can see, it’s closed shut.

Taking into account all the facets you inspected, you determine that this is a feasible way in; all that’s left is to reposition yourself and your belongings in the vent so you can get out.

You do your best to look behind you, or perhaps in this situation it’s above you, so that you can pull the bags in your direction and let them out of the vent first. This will give you more room to maneuver your body when it’s your turn, and it will get rid of the possibility of not being able to reach for the goods if you decide to go first.

Grasping one by the shoulder strap, you carefully scoot back down and press up against the wall contrary to your newfound entryway. You manage to squeeze one of the backpacks past you and through the opening, and with precision and effort, you tenderly lower it down, aiming for the top of the cabinets you spotted earlier. This will hopefully dampen the noise of setting down the explosives by reducing the distance of the drop. Once you feel the weight of the bag come in contact with the surface, you gradually release the strap until it is no longer in your hand.

One down—one to go.

Reaching for the second backpack, you begin pulling it towards you until something catches your eye in the process. As you move the obstructive object from the tunnel and shove it through the opening like the last, your line of sight is finally unrestricted. You unquestionably see something further through the vent, and the fact that you can see something only means one thing.

Light.

The source of it seems to be another grille just like the one you’re near, except there’s a luminous glow seeping in from the one further in—and just like an insect, you’re attracted to it.

Swiftly repeating your tactic of placing the backpack onto the top of the cabinet, you manage to make this one stick the landing as well. It’s now your turn to exit the air vent, but before you can even think about what the best method to do so is, you’re already advancing towards the light source.

You’re indubitably aware of how high the stakes of your actions are, but something inside of you, whether it’s instinct or curiosity, is telling you to go survey this other room. You’ve done well not to make any sounds that may alert the enemies so far, and you’re sure that this will only take a second. You’re just going to have a peek to gather more knowledge about the building and its occupants so that you can better fulfill this mission.

As you close in on the grate, you ensure that your movements remain undetectable and your breathing is silent—the latter may not make much of a difference, but it definitely gives you assurance. Spying through the slots of the grille, you see a room with a very similar layout to the previous one. The door leading into the space is also on the opposite wall, but this one is left wholly open so that you’re given a glimpse of what the hallway outside looks like—it’s honestly just as drab as this area. There are shelves and cabinets in the area that match the monotony of the faded white walls and worn gray floor, but the detail that sets this apart from the other room is that there is someone in here.

You can distinguish a single man sitting at a pretty hefty metal table near the right corner. He is facing the wall that the ventilation system runs through, but he is much too busy with what’s directly in front of him to look up and perceive your presence. An electronic monitor sits atop the blemished surface of the steel, and with the way the man clicks on the wired mouse ever so often, you can assume that the machine he’s engrossed in is a computer.

Taehyung’s luck must have rubbed off on you with just his simple well-wishes.

A sudden urgency comes over you as your mind constructs the best approach to this situation. After one last review of the room, you decide that it’s best to return back to where you dropped off your backpacks—you’ll cultivate the rest of your plan from there.

It’s just as difficult sliding the reverse direction, if not worse, especially now that you have to be extra cautious not to make any suspicious noises. Thankfully, you make it back to the opening you breached for yourself, but this time, you’re in an appropriate position to exit. Your feet make their exit first as you try your best to twist your body in order to make the process less challenging. Soon, your lower body is out of the vent with your torso following suit, and maintaining a strong grip on the ledge of the opening, you lower yourself down to the floor slowly to muffle your landing. Your feet make an ever-so-slight tap when they meet the firm floor, and you can feel the coolness of the concrete through the bottom of your socks.

With your vision finally adjusted as much as possible to the darkness, you turn around to face the shadowy room, taking in every detail there is to observe. As suspected, there is a lack of surveillance cameras present, something you noticed in the room with the computer as well. This makes sense with what Jin spoke of about this place being off the grid. While it was initially disadvantageous for you, now that you’ve made it inside, it should prove to be beneficial.

Carefully, you reach up to grab one of the backpacks you left atop the cabinet and place it on the floor in front of you. Kneeling down to open it, you take notice that it’s held shut by a simple buckle rather than a zipper. You mentally thank Hoseok for always thinking ahead as you easily unclasp it in one fell swoop and start removing the contents from within. Proceeding to carry out your weapons specialist’s instructions, you take the explosives and begin lacing the four walls of the room with them.

The bombs are in the shape of rectangular blocks with an adhesive on one of the larger sides to secure them onto the walls. You do just that, going around to manually place each individual device until one of the backpacks is completely empty. With that out of the way, you take the second bag and put it on, tightening the straps on your shoulders to make sure it stays on.

Contemplating your next step, you recall your teammates confirming that the room across from you is also blacked out, most likely revealed by the floor vent indication. That is probably the safest route to take, but you already decided on which room to visit the moment you saw that computer.

It would be a blatant lie if you said that you didn’t have your own agenda when agreeing to infiltrate the building alone. What you inquired Namjoon when you received the mission still continues to bother you, along with the biggest question of all: what exactly is the information that was stolen?

There’s only one way to find out.

If your brother knew of your true intentions, you know he would have never agreed to let you take on this mission. But that’s the beauty of going in alone—you get to make all the decisions.

With your mind made up, you head towards the lone door in the room and wrap your hand around its handle. Your other hand works to unsheathe the knife you always carry at the back of your waistband before holding it steadily beside you. Pausing to check that you don’t hear anyone on the other side, you cautiously turn your grip and push the door open just a crack.

As you peer into the hallway, nothing catches your attention at all. As a matter of fact, this part of the building seems unused altogether, and you can see that the majority of the light radiates from the front, along with the noise. There are some muted voices traveling from the other end, but you detect no figures to attach them to. Seeing this as your chance, you push the door open just enough for you to slip out, and you immediately turn to the left, already plotting a potential escape route.

Even through the darkness, you can make out the shapes of bolts on the back door above the handles, each one equipped with its own lock hanging from the rings. Not only do your enemies appear not to utilize that entry, but they don’t seem to want anyone else messing with it either. This puts a bit of a wrench in your contingency plan of busting out of here, but you’re sure you’ll find a backup plan.

With nothing left to see there, you turn in the opposing direction, your eyes locking onto the open doorway you are looking for. There’s not a doubt in your mind that it’s the room immediately beside the one you just came from, and you waste no time in sneaking over to it.

You persist light but brisk on your feet while still being wary of the bag on your back and the dagger in your hand. Once you hone in on the entrance to the room, you get as close to the wall as you can and lean past the corner, checking in to see if everything is as you left it. You’re able to discern the location of the grate in which you were spying from before over to the right of the opposite wall, and to the left sits the man at his computer, ceaselessly clicking away at his mouse.

With not another minute to lose, you get out of your hiding spot and advance forward. Your pace is deliberate while still maintaining its silence as you keep your center of balance low by stooping down as you move. The foe in the chair seems completely oblivious thus far, so the second you consider yourself close enough, you strike.

Both hands lurch forward simultaneously, with the empty one moving to cover the man’s mouth and the equipped one swinging in from the side to incapacitate him with the knife. Both of your limbs meet their marks as you feel the blade sink directly into the flesh of the front of his throat and the jolt of the beginning of a scream that doesn’t have time to come to fruition—a surefire sign that your intended strike to cut the vocal cords was successful. You remove the knife only to stab him once more, the sharp steel embedding itself right under the first insertion, just to speed up the process. It only takes a few seconds for the man’s body to change from rigid to limp, and when you let go of your hold on his mouth and pull the blade out a subsequent time, his head lolls lifelessly at a harsh angle.

With the target neutralized, you can now set things in motion.

Your first move is to turn back around and lock the door—you wouldn’t want anyone interrupting your important business. The consequences of leaving the door open are much higher than the potential attention you may attract by closing it, so you opt to do the latter. Sheathing your dagger while pacing towards the door, you reach for the handle and swing it closed, decelerating enough to prevent it from creating noise when it completely shuts. That’s when you take a closer look at the mechanism to realize that there does not appear to be any way to lock it. It’s unfortunate, but all you can do is keep the detail in mind as you hastily start your second round of explosive placements.

Putting the backpack on the floor, you carry out the job the same as before, placing each bomb across the four walls, or at least wherever you could. Some of the areas, namely the corner where the computer is located, are blocked off by tall shelves and other obstacles, so rather than maneuver your way around them, you just resort to placing the last few where the main infrastructure is more exposed.

“Step one complete,” you whisper quietly, feeling confident enough that there is no one nearby to hear you.

“Excellent,” you receive Namjoon’s reply before the rest. “We’re all done with preparations on our side as well.”

“We’re ready to detonate. Once you’re out in the clear, give me the signal,” Hoseok adds on, reminding you about step two of the plan.

Too bad you have your own plan.

Waltzing in front of the large metal table, you push the deadweight in the seat to the side so you can center yourself better. Luckily, he’s in a roller chair, so you’re able to wheel him a few paces to the right and out of your way. Bending forward to get a better look at the screen, you take the mouse in your hand and continue from where the man left off.

If you’re not going to be given answers, you’re going to take them yourself.

At first glance, the layout of the data seems pretty intuitive, if not familiar, and you suspect that you won’t need to look too hard to find what you’re looking for. What exactly it is you’re looking for, you’re not entirely sure, but it doesn’t hurt to check it out if the opportunity to do so is literally right in front of you.

It definitely looks like a directory of some sort, or perhaps compiled records. Either way, it seems like a bunch of inconsequential numbers on the surface, with far too many on the list to count. You keep scrolling down to see if anything stands out, but as you pause to stare a little longer, something clicks in your mind; it’s like finding a key to the lock of the pattern you’ve been seeing. Curious to test out your hypothesis, you hurriedly search for a series of numbers you know by heart.

135-729-06-12

The command is entered, and not even a second later, a result is found. You feel the sudden need to hold your breath as you click on the folder to open it, waiting to see if you hit the jackpot, or if it’s just a bust. The screen instantly shifts into a different arrangement as words replace all the numbers, but they’re not just any words.

They’re names—and you spot yours in the middle of the list.

This part is not too great of a shocking revelation, since the numbers you entered represent your team’s credentials—you noticed Jin writing it at the top all of his reports enough times to memorize it. It looks to take on the form of some kind of roster or roll book, and this alone is enough to confirm that what you’re looking at is the information stolen from your organization.

What you do find shocking though is the amount of detailed data stored within each of these files. You never doubted that the company kept tabs on its employees, with the assassins being no exception, but you were always told that any records you had before entering the orphanage were erased, and that any and all information that currently exists about you is strictly business-oriented and in the sole hands of the organization.

If that’s the case, then why is it that the information on the screen begs to differ?

You have your file opened up to scan through the details, and there appears to be information that should not exist, according to the organization’s policy. There are some things you recognize, such as the date of your arrival at the orphanage, but then there are other things that you can’t quite understand the purpose of keeping, such as general facts about your familial ties. Yours is both unsurprising yet disheartening to see, with the names of both your parents followed by cross marks.

Curiosity taking over once again, you return back to the list of names and begin searching for some other familiar ones. There are quite a few on here that you have never seen or heard of, but you can assume that those are the names of the previous assassins who were assigned to this particular squad before your arrival. Scrolling through the extensive list, you stop when you find a name you most certainly recognize.

Kim Taehyung.

When you open the file, your attention is automatically drawn to the section you were examining previously. Just like you, there are two X marks beside the pair listed as his parents, but for some reason, something doesn’t sit well with you. Exiting again, you try to find another teammate.

It takes you a few seconds to realize that the names you are seeing are not the ones given to you by the orphanage. These are the names originally given at birth, which explains some of the unfamiliar surnames you’re seeing. You’re not used to even thinking about the actuality that your teammates have last names—they’re not exactly valuable in your profession, nor are they desired. Nonetheless, you manage to find some of your other members. You know you’re pressed for time, so you decide to just skim through the status of their parents, since that’s what seems to be holding your attention at the moment.

Park Jimin, check marks.

Jung Hoseok, cross marks.

Min Yoongi, checks.

Kim Seokjin, more checks.

Jeon Jungkook…

You blink as you stare at the screen, waiting to make sure that everything has been loaded correctly. Under Jungkook’s parents, not only does he have dash marks where the checks or crosses should be, but the areas where the names should be present have the same basic icons.

You were really hoping to find answers by going through this information, but all it’s doing is confusing you moreover. You didn’t expect to be able to make all the connections in your mind right off the bat, but you’re really being thrown for a loop about what could mean.

It just doesn’t make sense.

Why does the organization even have all this seemingly useless information? Better yet, how did your enemy know about these records when you yourself weren’t aware of their existence? To take it a step further, what were they planning on accomplishing by stealing this?

“Are we clear?” you hear Namjoon’s voice interrupt your thoughts.

“Not yet,” you whisper, eyes still glued to the monitor as you back out of your team’s folder.

“What’s taking so long?” you catch a different voice this time, one belonging to the ever-so-polite Yoongi.

“Just hold on,” you relay a bit more brashly before returning to investigating the list. You’re back at the start with the sequences of numbers, and as you’re scrolling to find any that call for your attention, one particular set stands out from the rest.

415-809-00-00

It’s the only one without designated numbers the extensions, so you furrow your eyebrows and click to take a look. Inside is a list of names, not unlike the one you were browsing through before, but when you open up a few profiles, you realize something concerning that only complicates things even more. The people in these files aren’t assassins like the previous list.

They’re children.

The element you focus on with this group of records is that all of the documented birth years are well into the 2000s, with the arrival into the orphanage being even later than that. Some of them don’t even have an arrival date—there are just hyphens in its place, exactly like the ones you saw under Jungkook’s profile.

What the hell…?

All of a sudden, you hear footsteps quickly approaching at some distance behind you. You spin sharply around to face the noise, but by the time you realize that they’re stopping in front of your door in the hallway, you know you missed your opportunity for escape. Recalling that there’s no lock on the door, you only have a few seconds at the most to come up with a strategy before you’re compromised.

There’s no time at all for you run, and with your only exit blocked, there’s no place for you to run either. You briefly remember the ventilation grille in this room that you previously discovered and peered through, but it’s impossible to reach it in time to make it a practical escape route. There is nowhere to hide as well, but hiding yourself would do you no good with all the bombs decorating the walls and the bleeding man slumped in his chair.

Since running and hiding are both completely out of the question, you have to resort to your only other option—attacking.

One thing you do have going for you is that you still hold the element of surprise. Instead of playing evasively, you need to take advantage of this and go on the offensive before the enemy has a chance to flip the situation. Rushing over to the door with hushed steps, you press yourself against the wall beside it, your dagger already finding its way back into your hand for a second round. As you hear the handle turn, the entry opens and makes way for a robust but unsuspecting figure.

Not allowing him to take more than two steps into the room, you pounce forward for a peripheral attack. Your movements are fast as you take a swipe at the side of his neck, but unfortunately, his reflexes are equally as impressive. The target dodges off to the side, his body pivoting towards you in astonishment as you manage to nick the targeted spot with your blade. He stumbles backwards in the slightest as you see him reach for something at his waistline. You know that this means you’ll be in danger very soon, but for this fraction of a moment, he is preoccupied and unable to block.

Taking this as an opportunity for your second strike, you move forward with heightened vigor, propelling yourself as close to the man as you can. Like an extension of your arm, you reach further with your knife, using the momentum of your leap to drive it straight into the middle of his throat. You think that you’ve subdued the enemy when you see his face contort into a scream deprived of a sound to match, but you’re wrong.

The object that the man was reaching for is in his grasp now—it’s a handgun the man kept at his hip, and you can see his arm swing up from his side in what seems like a last ditch effort to foil you. Anticipating his aim, you pull your blade from the man’s neck and duck down to ram it straight into his torso, piercing his heart in what you hope is the final blow.

Just then, the earsplitting sound of a gunshot interrupts the silence as the man fires. It’s only after you remove your knife and see him crumple down into a heap that you are able to see that the bullet went nowhere near you. In fact, you see a clear mark on the concrete floor where the round made a noticeable dent upon impact.

That’s when you realize that he wasn’t trying to aim for you at all—the shot was an alarm.

“What was that?” your brother immediately asks, but you’re more concerned with answering to the consequences of that gunshot. The sound most likely traveled through the building to do its job of warning the others. More enemies will most likely arrive soon to investigate the disturbance, and when they do, you’ll basically be a sitting duck.

You know you only have yourself to blame; you were ignorant of your circumstances and took far too long with promoting your own agenda. However, it was only because the information seemed crucial that you were willing to take the risk.

Now you’ll just have to face the aftermath.

“There has been a slight change in plans,” you reluctantly reply, collecting your thoughts as you weigh your options.

You definitely can’t make a mad dash to the front and expect to survive. Who knows how many people will be waiting to gun you down once you step out into the hallway—you’ll be running straight into death’s arms. The ventilation system is still an impossible alternative as well, and any other form of hiding will only trap you even more. Engaging the enemies will only waste precious time on your end, and it may give them a chance to escape or even capture you—neither of those outcomes are allowed.

Much like the other dilemmas of the night, you’re only left with one choice.

“We’re going in,” Namjoon states to you, but it sounds more like an order to the rest of the team.

“No,” you sternly refute. “Stay where you are. I never said your part of the plan is changing.”

The whole place is locked down, and they know that just as well as you do. Even if they are able to break into the building, there’s a high probability that it’ll be too late. They won’t be able to save you from this mess.

You’re on your own, but that’s a reality you already accepted the moment you went in alone.

“What are you talking about?”

The question is articulated in a raised voice. Anger is something that very rarely comes to the surface with Namjoon, but you can tell that it’s threatening to show its colors. You have no time to pay it any mind though—your eyes are hurriedly scanning the room to take note of all the bomb placements. Your gaze then falls upon the corner of the room where the computer still sits on the table, the screen displaying the last list you were viewing before the interruption.

It’s now or never.

“You told me to give you my signal,” you explain as you briskly make your way to the front of the screen. Without a second thought, you place your arms across the tabletop, and with a heavy sweeping motion, you send the items off the edge of the surface, causing a disordered clatter as they hit the floor. “This is it.”

Your decision is met with an uproar of comments, with one particular “she’s insane” coming from your favorite rooftop partner in crime. Ignoring the jumbled speech flooding the comms, you continue with your plan B—or perhaps this is plan C. You pull the heavy metal table forward from the farthest edge so that it starts tipping towards you, balancing on the two front legs.

“We are not detonating until you’re out of the building,” Taehyung’s voice cuts through unexpectedly, sounding more serious than you’ve heard him be in a long while.

At that moment, the table staggers past the tipping point and crashes onto the floor with a loud clang, just barely missing your feet as you step backwards. The noise must have carried, because the other side of the comms has suddenly hushed down. In lieu of their chatter, a different set of voices starts to crescendo into existence, and while they originate from down the hall, you know that they’re only getting closer.

“Sorry, but I won’t be leaving.” You hop over the tabletop that is now perpendicular to the floor and turn around to pull at the legs in order to position the piece of furniture more into the corner. “This is the only way the plan is going to work.”

You suddenly detect movement at the doorway, which means your time is almost up. There’s no need to even look at the first man who enters to know that he has his weapon trained on you. On instinct, you duck straightaway to crouch behind the table you propped up for yourself, and just as you do so, you hear a gunshot being fired.

“Hoseok, you have to trust me!”

Your weapons specialist has stayed quiet throughout this entire exchange, but you know that he’s listening—he has to be. The words come out more frantic than you would have liked, but you’re just really hoping that you can persuade him in time to do as you say, no matter how unreasonable the request seems.

“In here!” you perceive a male voice shout, most likely alerting the others of your location. The approaching enemy presence means that they’re extremely close to nabbing you, but there is another thought on your mind. Their proximity to you means that they’re also as close to the explosives as they can and will ever be. No matter what happens, it needs to be done this very instant.

“Now!” you yell out almost threateningly, hoping that the aggression is communicated with enough force to stir Hoseok into action. It’s beyond being a request at this point—it’s a command.

You decide to brace yourself regardless of not knowing whether or not the detonation will occur—better safe than sorry, although that sounds a bit ridiculous coming from you in your current situation. Getting on your knees, you stoop down into a ball, joining your hands so that you are covering the back of your head. You close your eyes and press your forearms against your ears just as another precaution; your hearing should be the least of your worries, but assuming this emergency position is just something you were taught to do automatically.

It’s a futile attempt though, because you are a fool for thinking that anything could prepare you for what comes next.

The explosion is unlike anything you have ever experienced. You’ve been in the vicinity of bomb detonations before, but never this close. The initial blast is so violent, you feel everything around you shake uncontrollably to the point where it feels like the powerful ripples of energy are searing through your entire body. Then there is the sound—you have never heard something so deafeningly loud, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t hear anything again.

You feel yourself getting thrown by the imposing force—in what direction, you’re not exactly sure. Everything is an overwhelming attack on your senses, until suddenly, it’s like everything you’re feeling starts to dull. A bloom of white light appears before your closed eyelids that replaces the darkness, and a wave of white noise numbs all the senses that were on overload, leaving you to feel as if you’re just floating through an infinite abyss. That abyss is spinning around you at an incredible speed that your dizzy mind cannot even begin to distinguish. All you can really think of in that moment is how you want it to stop.

It’s not too long before you get your wish, because after a few moments, the swirling of the world comes to an abrupt halt, the noises become absolutely mute, and it’s like your senses don’t exist anymore—like nothing exists anymore. This is because it wasn’t the world that stopped like you were hoping for.

It was you.

#it's getting harder for me to find fitting banners for each chapter lol #BUT HEY NO REGRETS #downfall #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic

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feelingfredly · 5 years

Text

The Fox Guards the Wolf

Part Nine

Fighting Impulses

“So…” Ichigo stared around the room. “This is the Sanctum Sanctorum.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, and Ichigo frowned.

“Somehow I imagined more bubbling beakers and giant static electricity generators in Frankenstein’s lab.”

Still no response.

“It looks like an altar to Bill Gates and Steve Jobs, with a dose of Miyamoto Shigaru thrown in for good measure.”

That did it.

“The beakers and Bunsen burners are down the hall. The generator is in the basement. And it is much more Miyamoto than Gates or Jobs, if you don’t mind.”

Ichigo smiled. “Gotcha.”

Kisuke sighed and shook his head a little. “Yes. I admit it. You got me, and you didn’t even have to tell me my baby was ugly.”

The redhead grinned and wandered over to an empty desk in the corner. “Is this for me?”

He nodded. “I promised you time to write, didn’t I? I need you to be close in case I need to handle something in a hurry, and this way you still have your own space.”

That earned him another smile. “Next you’ll tell me I can keep a toothbrush next to your sink.”

Kisuke couldn’t resist. “My sink is just down this hall, and you can keep anything there you want, Ichigo-san.” He watched as the red head snapped up to look at him and fought not to give himself away with a smile of his own. “And my bed is big enough for two if you get tired and don’t feel like trekking back up to your apartment.”

An interesting flush crept up Ichigo’s neck, and Kisuke wondered if he reacted that way to everyone. He hoped not.

“Why do people keep trying to kidnap you?” Ichigo punctuated the statement by dropping his backpack on his desk and pulling out his computer. Kisuke assumed that meant playtime was over.

“My fascinating personality?” He dropped into his chair and pulled two keyboard trays towards him, hitting a careful progression of keys to unlock the computers, while Ichigo plugged in his laptop.

A few beeps and whirs later both men had their respective workstations up and running.

“Seriously,” Ichigo spun his chair to face him. “If I’m going to keep running into these guys I should at least know that much. Is it leverage? Money? Access?”

Kisuke pushed back from his work for a moment and considered how much to explain.

“I suppose,” he said, “in its simplest terms, they want to know what I know.”

Ichigo frowned harder than usual. “Do you mean they want to know how much you know, or they want to have the same knowledge you have?”

Kisuke admired how quickly Ichigo recognized the potential layers in his explanation. Always the wordsmith.

“Mostly the latter.” He pulled his fan out and tapped his chin a few times. “Although, the former is something they wouldn’t mind knowing either.”

“So basically, they want to force you to make whatever it is you’re making for them, and they want to know how much about them you and the others here,” he waved his hands to indicate the office building, “know about their plots and plans to take over the world.”

Kisuke nodded. “That’s about the size of it, yes.”

“Huh.” Ichigo looked disappointed. “Here I was hoping for something exotic, long-ranging and complex, but it’s really just business as usual, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?” Kisuke stared across the office at his companion. It was the first time he’d heard anyone associated with the Onmitsukido, even as tangentially as Kurosaki, declare that one of their conflicts was basically… boring.

“I mean, you’re working on something that’s new and different, but that’s not the plot is it? The plot is someone wants something that doesn’t belong to them, and they’ll do what they can to get it.” Ichigo shrugged, unimpressed. “Am I wrong?”

“Not really.” Kisuke gave a half-hearted smile. “I think the only things that change are the names of the people involved, and how many times they’ve stabbed each other in the back to try to get an advantage over the other side.”

He thought of Okura Kagetaka sadly. “I’m not even sure some of them know which side is which anymore.”

“Is this thing you’re working on something that would work for anyone?” Ichigo asked.

Kisuke considered the combat AI and how it could be applied. “Yes. And before you ask, I considered that when I started designing it.” He looked at his computer screens, taking in the bits of code sitting there, and tried to imagine never having started the project. Never having mapped out how it would work. Never having mastered the intricacies of Yoruichi’s AI function. It made him terribly sad. “I just couldn’t not create it. Do you understand?”

Ichigo’s brown eyes looked at him full of sympathy. “I do. Probably more than most.” He laughed a little under his breath. “Do you have any idea how many times my friends and family have asked me what the hell I’m doing taking a year off to write a novel? I know it isn’t the same. My stories are never going to earn me a place on the cover of SuperSpy magazine, but when they’re in my brain I just can’t ignore them. They’re too real for me to just let them fade away.”

Kisuke nodded. “You do understand, then.” He looked back down and started typing, trying to get his suddenly jumbled thoughts in order.

Ichigo watched him quietly for a moment and then turned back to his own work.

***

Ichigo stretched and his back cracked ominously. He really needed to work on his posture while he was typing.

“Why is it so hard to dispose of a body?”

Kisuke didn’t look up from his work. “Human body?”

Ichigo snorted. “Yes. Human body. What other body would you worry about disposing of?”

Kisuke made a noncommittal sound. “Well, if you’d taken out an animal but were trying to disguise your presence you’d need to worry about disposal. A dead gorilla would be a dead giveaway to anyone tracking you through the jungle. Gorillas don’t have many natural predators, and none that would leave the same marks as most weapons.”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t be worrying about disposing of the body, I’d just want to temporarily hide it, probably in place because I wouldn’t be able to drag something that big very far from where I killed it.”

“True.” Another noncommittal sound. “So, how much time do you have?”

Ichigo huffed. “Time for what?”

“To dispose of the body, of course,” Kisuke huffed.

“Uh,” Ichigo rifled through his notes, “Ten hours? Well, ten hours to remove it from the first site and get that cleaned up. After that I don’t care how long it takes to dispose of it, as long as it doesn’t lead anyone back to me.”

Kisuke hmm’d softly. “You want to move it as soon as possible if you can. Leaving it in place gives you too many variables. Plus, it makes clean up much worse. How much blood?”

Ichigo stared at the blond. Were they really having this conversation? “None. Hopefully.”

“How’d you kill him? Drugs? Poison?” Kisuke still hadn’t looked up from his computer.

“Scopolamine. Accidental overdose.”

“Classic. Too bad it was an accident.”

Ichigo tried to figure out what he meant by that but couldn’t follow the train of thought.

“Why is it too bad?”

“If you meant to kill him, you could’ve used the scopolamine’s effects to get him to go wherever you eventually intended to dispose of the body under his own steam. Then you wouldn’t have the transport problem. You’d have to make sure no one saw you with him, but that’s not a significant obstacle most of the time.”

“It really works like that? The whole Devil’s Breath, thing?” Ichigo was fascinated.

“Yes. The drug cartels in Colombia have been using it for decades. Scarily effective.” Kisuke stopped typing and finally looked up. “But it’s better if you don’t write it that way. You might make some people… nervous.”

Ichigo weighed the idea and nodded slowly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

Kisuke touched the sensor behind his ear and Yoruichi’s voice greeted him. Hello Kisuke.

“Update data files on Kurosaki Ichigo.”

A few seconds passed, and the voice purred at him again. Data files updated.

“Did you say something, Urahara-san?” Ichigo pulled his earbud out and turned to look at him.

“Just talking to myself, Kurosaki-san,” he said. It was true. There wasn’t anything in this Yoruichi that wasn’t him. Just an enhanced him.

“I think I’m going to head upstairs for dinner.” Ichigo looked back over his shoulder. “Do you have plans?”

Kisuke looked at the clock in surprise. He hadn’t realized it was so late already.

“I’m so sorry, Kurosaki-san. I completely lost track of the time.”

Ichigo just smiled. “So did I. I can’t believe how much progress I made today. You want to come up for curry? My sister Yuzu sent enough for an army.”

Kisuke stared at the redhead. No one had ever been happy with his losing track of time before.

“Curry sounds delicious.”

***

“Did Tsukabishi-san say there was a gym in the basement?” Ichigo finished drying the last bowl and put it back in the cabinet. “I really need to get a workout in tomorrow if possible.”

Kisuke nodded. “There are two. One has the basic treadmills, weights, and so on, and the other is for sparring. I’m sure you could find a partner if you’re interested. It isn’t like a dojo, though. Down there pretty much anything goes. It’s more about efficacy than style.”

If he thought that was going to be a deterrent, he was in for a surprise. The redhead actually looked more interested.

“It would be a good to stretch myself against someone who isn’t just going to use traditional judo. I haven’t had a real fight since high school.” He laughed, but Kisuke could sense the excitement bubbling just under the surface.

Every time he thought he had a handle on Kurosaki something happened to prove him wrong.

“Don’t tell me your father encouraged fighting.”

The younger man grinned and picked up his cup of tea. “Encouraged is a strong word. Let’s just say that my dad understood that it was likely to happen, and believed that if I was going to fight, I’d better be good enough at it to both walk away the winner, and to leave no permanent damage behind me.”

That sounded like the Kurosaki Isshin Kisuke remembered.

“No permanent damage, hmm?” he asked, pouring tea for himself as well.

“He always said it was because he didn’t want me to turn into a thug and it was important to think about the long-term consequences of my actions. But I know the truth.”

“And what was that?”

Ichigo took a drink and met his eyes over the top of the cup. “He didn’t want to have to do the paperwork afterwards, of course.”

Kisuke didn’t choke on his tea, but it was a close call.

***

The exercise rooms were surprisingly crowded. Or not surprisingly crowded, if you thought about the jobs most of these people had. This was an associated branch of the Onmitsukido after all.

Ichigo looked at the people sparring and was impressed by the sheer variety. There were young and old, male and female. He heard Japanese, English, Korean, and an African language he couldn’t identify, but they all had one thing in common. They were all kicking ass and taking names.

“You must be Kurosaki Ichigo-san.” A pleasantly non-descript young woman in her twenties appeared at his elbow. “Welcome to the team!” She gave a brief bow that was respectful enough to make him feel like he was actually welcome, but somehow conveyed the message that he still had some question marks beside his name. “I’m Tanaka Midori.”

Ichigo returned the bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Tanaka Midori-san.” He indicated the people scattered across the mats. “Is it always this crowded?”

The young woman looked around and nodded. “Most mornings, yes. Everyone likes to get their workout in early in the day so they don’t end up missing it if their schedule changes unexpectedly.”

That made sense. Maybe he’d do better to put off his workout until later in the day.

“Kurosaki-san.”

Ichigo turned, only slightly surprised to see Kisuke standing behind him. “Good morning, Urahara-san. What brings you out of your lair this morning?”

Tanaka stiffened beside him and he supposed he should be more respectful to Kisuke around his coworkers.

Were they his coworkers? He’d never seen anyone around except Tessai. He’d have to ask.

“I realized after our conversation last night how long it had been since I’d gotten in a good sparring session.”

Tanaka stared at him slack-jawed and Ichigo wondered if that indicated that Urahara was lying about sparring, or that just seeing him outside his lab was disconcerting enough to throw her for a loop.

Considering the physical control he’d seen the blond exert, he was betting it was the former. But, if he wanted to pretend he lacked skills, who was Ichigo to protest?

He wandered over to the corner where they had an area for stretches and sat down next to the wall, legs spread as widely as possible, and slowly scooted forward until he felt the insides of his thighs begin to burn. He sat like that for ten seconds and then rotated into a Chinese split, and held that, breathing deeply as he felt his muscles first protest and then relax into the familiar movement.

Urahara had taken the opportunity to prop one foot on a waist-high beam and lean into a hamstring stretch that looked completely effortless.

They stretched like that for a few more minutes in silence, until Ichigo figured it was time to roll the dice.

“Shall we shake the dust off, Urahara-san?” He pretended not to notice the audience they were gathering.

“Nothing would suit me better, Kurosaki-san.”

***

The sparring areas were simply mats spread out through the basement with walkways between, and Ichigo led them to the nearest unoccupied set and bowed before stepping on them

“Rules?”

Kisuke shrugged. “Why don’t you decide this time. It is too early for me to be making decisions.”

Ichigo cocked his head to one side and he half expected an argument, but the redhead surprised him again.

“Let’s try to keep it civil, then. No knee shots or eye-gouging, and I’d prefer not to be singing soprano afterwards. Good for you?”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Good enough, Kurosaki-san.” He faced the younger man and settled into a comfortable stance. This was going to be interesting.

Ichigo slowly moved counter-clockwise a step and then another, and Kisuke played along, but unlike many of his sparring partners, he didn’t dance around. No, the redhead was much more cautious, watching his feet and hands, trying to see when the tendons tightened to move.

So, Kisuke did the same.

They measured each other that way, judging reach and angles, until Ichigo sighed.

“This is boring.”

In a split second the younger man had closed the space between them, lashing out with his left leg, first kicking low and then high without withdrawing to rebalance. Kisuke took the first kick to the calf and then blocked the second, moving quickly to the side before landing a closed fist strike on the inside of Ichigo’s thigh just above the knee.

There was an indrawn breath behind him, and he wondered what their audience would think of what came next.

As expected, the thigh strike threw Ichigo off balance, but he quickly regrouped, and sent a flurry of punches and strikes—arm, chest, arm, turn and strike to the back—and Kisuke flowed into his defense. Blocking he could tell that Ichigo was still feeling him out, measuring how much force to use to strike without over-committing, and he leaned back, using his superior reach, and swung his right foot up, just missing the redhead’s chin.

A scowl appeared for a moment on Ichigo’s face, and Kisuke knew his intentional undershot had been recognized and unappreciated.

It might not have been Kisuke’s best idea.

He watched as Ichigo changed stances, dropping his traditional karate positioning into something looser and dirtier.

Kisuke threw a short punch, snapping Ichigo’s head back from the quick jolt, but as he pulled back, he noticed a strange short slide of Ichigo’s foot. Somehow the smaller man channeled the energy behind his punch, translating it into a modified backbend, and he watched in surprise as Ichigo dropped both hands to the floor behind him and kicked him first in the hip, then the chest, and then finally in the chin, before flipping over and away from him after landing the shot that Kisuke had chosen not to.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually landed a hit like that on him.

He grinned.

Two quick shifts later and he had Ichigo’s elbow stretched to its natural limit, but before he could lock it into place to force him to the mat, his foot was lifted just enough for Ichigo to spin him in a half-circle, drop to one knee, force the overextension of his own arm but in a way that pulled Kisuke forward and over him, so he could then ram upward and headbutt him in the solar plexus.

The two separated, breathing harder now.

Kisuke noticed that the redhead was gently shaking the arm he’d just sacrificed, and he quirked an eyebrow. Ichigo shook his head in silent refusal, and they faced off again.

This time Ichigo went straight for a judo throw, lunging forward and grabbing the front of Kisuke’s gi. He slid his right leg between Kisuke’s thighs, and pulled him forward with all his strength, sliding him up to where he was practically sitting against Ichigo’s hip. As the shorter man prepared to pull him over, Kisuke forced himself further forward into the hold, and then wrapped his arm around the redhead’s throat. Ichigo realized that if he threw Kisuke at that point, he’d basically strangle himself in the process, so he performed a quick release, and shoved instead, sending Kisuke backwards with a stumble.

Their audience had grown, and he could hear mutterings from the crowd.

It was his turn to attack. Low punch, elbow block, hit to the ear, and then grab the redhead by the gi and use his own bodyweight to throw him to the floor. But instead of faceplanting, Ichigo hit the mat on his hands and made a perfect leg sweep, catching Kisuke’s leg just enough to keep him from following through with a floor hold and pin.

By this point Tanaka Midori and the others had seen enough. No one in the gym would wonder why Ichigo had been brought onto the team. Now it was time to really push things.

Ichigo’s face was flushed and his eyes were wide and bright. There was a sheen of perspiration on his skin, and Kisuke could practically feel the weight of his focus. It made his skin hot, and his heart race, and it had nothing to do with the exertion of sparring.

It would always be like this between them, he thought.

He crossed the space between them and jabbed into the brachial nerve cluster at Ichigo’s right shoulder, eliciting the first true gasp of pain from his opponent. He followed that up with a side strike to his neck, and then flipped the smaller man around, pulling both arms up into a full nelson.

He pressed on the back of Ichigo’s neck, forcing his head down, cutting off his air, and reducing the blood-flow to his head, and he started a slow ten count.

Ichigo groaned, and Kisuke could feel it vibrate under his hands. He’d reached six by the time Ichigo tried to counter, dropping his weight a little, but he wasn’t concerned. Once the gray started setting in, it would be over.

Ichigo raised his hands to his own head. It was probably pounding from the restricted circulation, but he hadn’t tapped out yet, and Kisuke was a patient man. But then, suddenly, the redhead struck himself in the forehead, and the shock of the impact both snapped his head back allowing a rush of blood to travel back in, and it loosened Kisuke’s grip just long enough, that when Ichigo dropped his weight entirely, stomping backwards on the arch of Kisuke’s foot, and rotating his hip to pull Kisuke completely around his body, he was caught completely by surprise. It was such a novel sensation that he simply released his hold, and let himself be pinned.

Ichigo looked down at him, their breath mingling their faces were so close together, and Kisuke could feel the redhead’s heart pounding where their chests were pressed into the floor.

A murmur was spreading and Kisuke could hear whispers of he pinned Getaboshi from the crowd. Ichigo must have heard it too. He pushed off and rolled to his feet in an easy movement, offering Kisuke a hand as he stood.

“Thanks for taking it easy on me, Urahara-san.” He gave a polite little bow and turned away from the crowd standing around. “We’d better get cleaned up, though. Tsukabishi-san wanted me to remind you that you had an appointment at eleven, and I don’t think either of us would come away from that fight in once piece if I let you miss it.”

Kisuke watched as the spectators dispersed, Ichigo’s comments reducing what would normally have been gossip mill fodder for a month into just another sparring session. He had controlled an entire room of trained agents with three sentences.

Kisuke’s heart sped up noticeably enough that he didn’t need Yoruichi in his ear informing him of it. How was it that Ichigo managed to keep him so off balance, so fascinated?

They pushed the button for the elevator and waited, listening to the sounds of sparring starting up again behind them. Kisuke could feel the heat pouring off the man next to him, could smell the faint tang of perspiration.

The door opened. They stepped in. The door closed.

“Why’d you let me do it?” He wasn’t sure what Ichigo meant.

“Do what?”

“Why’d you let me break loose so easily?” Ichigo’s voice was a little rough and he hoped he hadn’t injured his windpipe with the throat punch.

Kisuke remembered the vicious heel to the instep, and the elbow to the ribs, and wondered what Ichigo would think of as hard.

“We were sparring,” he said as the door opened on his floor. “Anyway, my ego is healthy enough that I don’t have to win.” He gave a little half-smile. “At least not all the time.”

Ichigo stepped further back into the elevator, his eyes fastened on Kisuke’s, that fascinating flush on his cheeks again.

“Okay,” he said, “But to be fair, I’ll let you pin me next time.”

The doors closed.

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suho-mochi · 7 years

Text

Ineffable - Ch. 4

Kim Junmyeon/Reader Word Count: 5,539

Previous Chapter

You can almost feel Minho’s breath on your lips, his fingers brush your chin carefully as he stares in your eyes. He leans in a little bit more and you gulp nervously.

You hear a sudden thwack and the man recoils away from you with a yelp. You jump a little as well, your heart racing.

You look up to see Junmyeon holding a folded newspaper in his hand, glaring at Minho, who’s massaging his head.

“Keep your distance, you’re making her uncomfortable,” Junmyeon grumbles, making his way back to the armchair he was sat in a moment ago.

Jongin is sitting on the opposite armchair, staring at the laptop on his lap, but there’s a smile on his face - a clear giveaway that he’s not missed a second of what just happened.

“May I remind you, that you are the one that wanted me to look closely.” Minho grates.

“Distance.” Junmyeon huffs again, flopping in his seat.

Minho rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t lean in as he rests his arm on the back of the couch you’re sat on. He just stares at you, hand on his chin.

“Well?” Jongin pipes up, finally looking up from his computer.

“Well,” Minho starts. “She’s definitely not human, but you already knew that.”

You can feel your eyes widen at his words and he seems to notice that as he gives you a sympathetic smile. Your heart drops.

“Then she is…?” Junmyeon pushes on, his hands gripping the armrests, his knuckles white.

“I don’t think she’s like you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Minho continues, his eyes narrowing slightly on you, focusing on your right eye.

“You don’t know for sure?” Jongin asks, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Minho is quiet for a moment, thinking, before he huffs a heavy breath.

“I do not,” he admits, eyes still on you. “However, I think I can make a pretty good guess.”

There’s a small pause during which you’re all quiet, your head is already spinning as your heart rate refuses to calm down.

“I think she’s like me.” Minho finally says, turning to Junmyeon with a shrug of his shoulders.

Your mouth drops open. Nobody says anything. You slowly turn to the side to look at the other two men.

Jongin still has his laptop open, hands resting on the keyboard, but he’s staring at you, eyebrows raised. You are relieved to see that there’s only surprise in his eyes, but nothing else.

Your eyes slide to Junmyeon then. He looks like a stone statue, completely unmoving. His eyes are dark as they meet yours, but his features immediately soften. He gives you a small nod and relief floods you.

You will not be alone in this.

“So,” Junmyeon begins. “How come you don’t know for sure?”

You turn to look at Minho who nods, as if he had expected that question.

“There’s a seal on her. I don’t know why and I’m not sure quite how yet,” he admits, ruffling his silver locks and sighing. “But there’s a seal on her. A damper on her power, whatever that might be. This is something a normal human wouldn’t have survived.”

“Can you break it?” You ask quietly.

“No,” Minho immediately replies, his head snapping to you. “And I wouldn’t attempt to. It’s too dangerous, you could die.”

You grip your knees, you feel like you might pass out.

“So I’m a witch?” You ask, voice weak.

“It would seem so, darling.” Minho hums in agreement.

“I’ve never heard of a witch’s powers being completely sealed before.” Jongin mumbles as he suddenly starts typing on his computer again.

“That’s one of the things that worry me,” Minho says, standing up. “It is not something we do and definitely not with a newborn, which is what seems to have happened here. Magic seals are used only by some of the strongest of us and only out of necessity, nobody would need to do that to a baby.”

The man starts pacing in front of you.

“The silver in her eye - that’s a sign of the seal breaking.” He starts speaking, tapping his lips with his fingers pensively. “The protective shell of the seal is cracking, revealing her true self slowly, her magic flowing.”

“Sooyoung told you she noticed a shift in you the day you were first attacked?” He suddenly asks, looking up at you.

You nod jerkily.

“Did something happen before that? Anything weird around you?” He prods, his voice gentle.

You look down at the intricate carpet designs in front of you and try to think back. It was a normal week for the most part, except for seeing your ex with another woman.

The break up.

The lamps and TV shattering.

You look up to Minho, who seems to already know that you’ve realised that there is something.

“What is it? What happened?” He asks, sitting back down next to you.

Junmyeon shuffles in his seat, while Jongin seems engrossed in reading something on his computer, but you’re sure he’s not missing a word of what you’re saying.

“I caught my boyfriend cheating on me the day before,” you start, gulping nervously. This wasn’t something you wanted to talk about, but Minho nods encouragingly. “That evening I broke up with him, I was angry and upset and kicked him out of my flat. That’s when the lights suddenly shattered and the TV with them.”

You glance at Junmyeon who’s leaning forward on his chair, elbows on his knees. His lips are pursed, but he nods at you in understanding. That story is out now.

Minho looks down as well.

“Strong emotional strain,” he mumbles. “The seal must have been weakening already and this just ebbed it on”

“Just like when her flat was attacked,” Junmyeon speaks up finally. His voice sounding almost soothing. “When she collapsed.”

“That’s when the visible change happened,” Minho nods.

You are left to your own thoughts for a moment as you all sit in silence.

You have no idea what all of this means, so far you’ve just been going along with it, trusting Junmyeon and Jongin unconditionally. They did save your life more than once and take you under their care. So far you were safer with them than anywhere else.

“Earlier you said you don’t have any parents?” Minho asks tentatively.

You just hum quietly. The first thing he had done was shower you with questions about family and the people close to you. Neither of which you had much, if any.

“They died in a house fire a little after I was born.” You say.

“Who brought you up then?” He asks.

“My grandmother,” you reply, a small smile making its way to your lips at the memories.

“I think we have to pay her a visit,” Jongin suddenly speaks up from the side as the other two nod in agreement.

~~~

You are staring mindlessly out the window as you listen to Jongin and Minho in the backseat, trying to settle on whether pineapple on pizza is disgusting or delicious, when you feel a gentle caress on your arm.

You turn to the side to see Junmyeon gently making small movements on your side with the back of his fingers, trying to get your attention as he drove.

“Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate?” He asks quietly, trying not to the disturb the other two.

You scrunch your eyebrows, thinking.

“I don’t remember,” you admit sheepishly.

Junmyeon just nods in response.

“How do you feel about McDonald’s?” He asks as he points to a sign on the road, informing you that there is one nearby.

“Let’s go, I’m hungry too.” Minho suddenly interjects, pushing his face between the two seats, just so he can beam brightly at you.

Junmyeon huffs as he puts his hand on Minho’s face and pushes him backwards.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

You almost crack a smile.

“McDonald’s is okay.” You say, your stomach rumbling quietly at the thought of food.

~~~

You are sitting at a table with Jongin, waiting for Junmyeon and Minho as they order food for all of you.

“They can sense you, they must know there’s magic in you.” Jongin speaks as you shift uncomfortably under the gaze of a lady sitting a few tables away from you, her eyes flickering black several times already. “Demons love magic. It makes them stronger if they manage to consume it, which is most probably why they kept coming after you.” Jongin continues, his eyes focused on his fingers that are picking apart one of the napkins on the table.

“How come they’re not paying attention to him then?” You ask, nodding towards Minho who is currently draping himself over Junmyeon’s shoulders, laughing. Junmyeon doesn’t look nearly as amused.

“Firstly, he’s too strong to be attacked head on. Secondly, witches usually have control over their magic, they can mask themselves if necessary and use seals if absolutely necessary. You’re untrained, you’re probably like a walking snackbar to them.” Jongin replies candidly. “Don’t worry, they wouldn’t do anything now.” He says, looking up and giving you what was meant to be a reassuring grin.

You gulp, looking away from the black eyed woman, who has stopped eating now and is just staring at you blatantly.

“Would Minho be using the same seal that was used on me?” You ask, trying to focus on Jongin’s fingers as he picks up another napkin and starts making origami out of it.

Before Jongin can reply someone slides next to you with a tray overflowing with fries and drinks.

“No,” Minho answers, handing you a cup of coke. “Your seal is something quite different, it suppressed you so much you were basically human until now. No matter how much we restrain our power, we never fully erase it. It’s too dangerous.”

Junmyeon carries the tray of burgers and sits on the opposite side of the booth, next to Jongin.

You are wordlessly handed two burgers and large fries and you gape at the pile of food suddenly in front of you.

“You expect me to eat all of this?” You ask incredulously.

Junmyeon looks at you seriously, nodding.

“I’m pretty sure that the best case scenario is that you’ve eaten twice in the last 48 hours and I’d really rather not have to carry you around if you faint from exhaustion.” He says, his tone unamused. “Eat.” He demands.

He isn’t exactly wrong. You purse your lips and pick up a fry.

You try focus on your food while Jongin and Minho continue their pineapple on pizza conversation. Junmyeon listens to them, dark eyebrows furrowed as he munches on his food, nodding whenever someone says something he agrees with.

You’re almost unnerved by the normality of the meal, but then you remember that for these people this seemed to be daily life. The world you have been chucked in unwillingly is their own.

While you struggle with finishing one burger, Jongin and Minho practically inhale their food and are now sipping their drinks and Junmyeon is already running out of fries to pick on.

“I don’t think I can finish this,” you admit, looking sadly at the leftover food in front of you. “I think my stomach has shrunk.”

“It can happen when you don’t eat properly for so long. Don’t force yourself or you’re gonna be sick.” Jongin says, smiling gently at you.

“We can keep it for later,” Junmyeon sighs, nodding. “Come on, we should go now. There’s even more of them here now and it’s annoying me.”

You aren’t sure what he’s talking about until you have a quick look around. You feel like a bucket of cold water is poured over you.

It isn’t just the woman anymore. There are at least three more tables of black eyes staring at you, food untouched in front of them. No other people seem to be noticing them, but they stick out to you like sore thumbs.

Your hands curl into fists, nails digging into your sweaty palms.

“Come on,” Minho urges you quietly from your side. “Junmyeon’s right, we should go.”

You nod, grabbing the last burger from the table and following him out of the booth.

You walk close to Minho, avoiding the dark gazes following your movements, as Jongin appears on your other side suddenly, the three of you walking behind Junmyeon who has his hands in his pockets, his shoulders squared.

You are nervously squeezing the burger in your hand as your eyes dart in all directions.

“Nothing to be nervous about, little lamb.” Jongin mumbles from your side. “They wouldn’t be stupid enough to do something now.”

There is something almost reassuring in the coldness of his tone as he spits the last few words.

When you are finally outside, you feel like you can breathe again. You let out a huge sigh, making Jongin chuckle next to you as he gives you a pat on the back.

~~~

“Has your grandmother always lived this far? We’re almost out of the city bounds now.” Minho says, interrupting your train of thought.

“Yeah, I grew up there.” You reply, smiling at the memories. “It’s right next to a huge forest, I love it.”

“And you have no other family?” He asks again.

“No,” you sigh.

“Sorry I don’t mean to be rude,” he says, tone apologetic. “It’s just that, the forest you mentioned has some stories about it.” He trails off quietly.

That piques your interest. You glance at the GPS, you’ll be there soon. Your eyes trail over Junmyeon who has one hand on the steering wheel as he rests his elbow on the window, chin in his palm, looking thoughtful. You crane your neck so you can look at the back seat.

Jongin has his eyes closed, but you know better than to think he is sleeping and Minho is just looking out the window, gaze vacant.

“What kind of stories?” You ask, the sudden closeness of your voice making him look at you.

He seems to almost fidget as he shifts around in his seat, looking out the window again.

“Minho.” You say, grabbing his attention once more.

“It’s said to be the home of a forest daemon,” he admits, his eyes apologetic. “We usually steer clear from it.”

“Are you saying my grandmother could be in danger?” You ask, your voice trembling.

“Daemons are different from demons, this world is their home and they are usually benevolent, but-” he pauses, biting his lip. “I don’t know,” he replies, his eyes sincere.

You let out a shaky breath as you face the road once again. You twirl your fingers in your lap as you suddenly feel the car speed up. You snap your head to the side, but Junmyeon hasn’t moved an inch.

“It will be okay,” he whispers as if only for you to hear, although you know everyone in the car car is aware of his words.

~~~

You don’t know what you were expecting when you arrived. Maybe the house being burned down, or shattered windows and blood everywhere. However, the small cosy house at the end of the familiar dirt road seems as untouched and timeless as ever.

You close the car door behind you, swiftly making your way to the front of the house.

The little garden is tended to as usual, there are no weeds sticking out, the flowers are all sitting happily in their little pots. Your favourite rocking chair is out on the porch, a small blanket draped on it. Everything seems to be as it should be. It’s almost as if you are coming to visit for the weekend.

That is, if you ignore the three men walking behind you almost too quietly.

You knock on the door three times before you tentatively turn the handle of the door. It turns easily and take a step inside, gesturing to your companions to come in with you.

“Was it meant to be open?” Junmyeon asks quietly from your side as he follows you in.

“Yes, she only locks the door at night. She works in the garden a lot.” You say, glancing around the place.

Everything is in perfect shape, you can even smell something sweet, maybe from the kitchen.

“Granny!” You call, your voice loud in the small space.

You hear a clank and some shuffling before small footsteps echo from the kitchen.

“My darling, you should’ve told me you’re coming!” The familiar voice comes through the corridor, making your heart swell happily.

A second later you are wrapped in a tight hug, hunching over the small figure of your grandmother.

“I would’ve made you lunch if I had known you’d be here today!” She scolds, pulling away so you can look at each other properly. She holds onto your hands tightly as she inspects you from head to toe.

You do the same and with a relief you find that she hasn’t changed a bit. Her eyes are the familiar warm dark green, framed by her big glasses that only make the wrinkles around her eyes more visible, the little bun of hair is tightly wound on top of her head, a leaf tipped pin sticking out from it. Her smile is bright as ever and the tan apron she is wearing is spotless, save for a few splashes of what looks a lot like strawberry jam. Unlike you, she doesn’t look like her life has been turned topsy turvy in a matter of a few days.

“My beautiful, darling, I’m so happy to see you.” She says, her warm hands giving yours a squeeze. “I’m making jam, can you smell it? You can have some warm jam on toast later, it’s divine.” She speaks happily and you keep nodding, unable to take your eyes off her. The relief and familiarity of her presence overwhelming you.

Then someone clears their throat from the corner of the room and you are brought back to reality and the real reason for your visit.

Your grandmother jumps a little, looking around until she finally lays her eyes on her three unfamiliar visitors in her house.

“Who is this, darling?” She asks, her demeanor a bit more serious as she takes in the three men, her eyes lingering on Junmyeon long enough for you to notice.

“I uh,” you start unsurely. “I found out something the other day and they’re trying to help me out with it, but we need to talk to you about it.”

“My name is Junmyeon, it’s nice to meet you.” Junmyeon speaks up, bowing lightly to your grandmother.

Minho and Jongin follow with their own brief introductions.

You grandmother's eyes slide back to yours as she smiles at you again, although it seems a little strained.

“Let’s go to the kitchen, I don’t want the jam to burn.” She pulls you by the hand with her as the other three follow, exchanging glances.

The kitchen definitely smells like thick sugary jam and you feel your mouth water as you see the giant pot on the stove.

“This smells amazing, granny.” You say as she lets go of your hand and gestures you all to sit down.

“It’s almost done,” She says, walking to the pot and stirring it with the big wooden spoon that was resting on the side. “I think I can pour some in a little bowl now for you to have. Would you like some?” She asks politely, turning to your three guests.

“I’d love to try,” Minho says, smiling kindly. Almost too kindly.

Junmyeon and Jongin follow with their shy murmurs of ‘yes’ and ‘of course’. They seem somewhat wary and confused still.

“Darling, help me set up the table.”

“Yes, granny!” You quickly get up, taking out a stack of small plates from the cupboard behind you, placing one for each person on the table.

“Do you want some help?” Junmyeon asks when you reach him, making you smile.

“No, it’s alright. I like doing this.” You reply. Junmyeon stares at your with his mouth open for a moment before nodding.

You get cutlery and place it on the table with some napkins for each person.

Your grandmother had filled a bowl with jam in the meantime and set it in the middle of the table, she then took out a loaf of freshly baked bread and a little tray of butter and arranged them neatly in front of everyone.

When everything is set you both finally sit down next to each other.

“Try it, let me know what you think.” Your grandmother urges you.

You nod, quickly grabbing a piece of bread and loading with butter before adding some jam on top of it and taking a bite happily.

You are literally bouncing in your seat and you realise that it was making the three men opposite you look at you curiously.

You give them a questioning look, which makes Jongin snort.

“This is the first time we’re seeing you smile, it’s quite interesting.” He says as he picks up a slice of bread and a butter knife.

You stop chewing, looking down as reality rudely crashes into you again.

“It’s not your fault,” Junmyeon mumbles as he straightens his legs under the table, bumping them gently in yours.

You turn to your grandmother who is watching you curiously, worry written all over her face.

“This is delicious, granny.” You say, smiling happily.

“Darling, what happened?” She asks, her voice soft as she reaches for your hand. “Something is wrong, tell me.”

Your eyes widen, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“I-I just-,” you start, tears suddenly streaming down your face. She quickly tries to soothe you, handing you a napkin as she brushes your tears off your face.

It could be your imagination, but you see her eyes linger on the silver in your iris, her lips thinning.

“Tell me everything,” she says, her thumb rubbing your cheek gently.

So you do.

You spill your guts, sobs interrupting you from time to time, but she waits for you to calm down, nudging a glass of water to you occasionally. You glance at Junmyeon now and again, his presence somewhat reassuring you that you didn’t imagine the whole thing, that you aren’t alone in it either.

When you finally finish there is only silence interrupted a little by your sniffles.

“It sounds crazy doesn’t it, I sound like a crazy person right?” You ask, looking up at your grandmother’s watering eyes. She is holding both your hands tightly in her lap now. Her calloused fingers making circles on your palms.

“I didn’t know this would happen.” She suddenly says, looking down. A single teardrop falls down her cheek, making another sob break out of you again.

You are about to ask what she means by that when you are startled by Minho’s voice.

“I have a question,” he suddenly says, making everyone snap their eyes at him. He looks the most serious you have ever seen him. His lips are set in a line, eyes cold as he looks at your grandmother. “How did a daemon come in the possession of a witch child?”

The question puts your sobs to a halt as silence falls over the table.

“Minho careful,” Junmyeon warns, but you interrupt him unable to stop yourself.

“What?” You snap, glaring at him.

“I’m asking her,” he says, nodding towards your grandmother and not even looking at you.

“She is my grandmother!” You speak up louder, squeezing her small hands in yours tightly. “My parents died in a house fire and sh-”

Minho’s eyes finally move to you, the cold of the striking blue unnerving you and making you shut up.

“Witches do not die in house fires,” he says, voice flat. “Daemons do not serve the Princes of Hell so they do not crave our power, however, daemons cannot have offspring that suddenly turn to witches. So tell me how did you end up with a witch child?” He turns to your grandmother again, lifting an eyebrow.

The only sound in the room is coming from the big pot on the stove that is still bubbling thickly.

You grandmother turns to you, smiling gently as she reaches for your cheek, giving it a soft caress.

“Your mother,” she starts, her green eyes murky with tears. “She was one of the greatest witches I have ever seen.”

Minho leans forward in his chair, listening carefully.

“She was kind, even to those who are usually shunned by her people,” she speaks, glancing at Minho. “She helped me protect my forest. No demon can walk this land, nobody comes in unless I let them, all thanks to her. To her powerful magic.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as your heart races.

“I owe her everything I have,” she continues, her eyes not leaving yours now.

“One day she showed up at my door, looking sickly and crying. The only thing she had with her was a little bundle of blankets in her arms.”

You sniff, realising where this is going.

“She asked me to return the favour. She put you in my care, to raise you as my own, away from the world she lived in.”

You all fall completely silent for a moment.

“What happened to her?” Jongin asks quietly from the side.

“I don’t know,” you grandmother says quietly, looking down. “I never saw her again. I stopped hearing from her like I used to. Suddenly, she was gone.”

“Her name?” Minho asks, his voice still steely.

“I only knew that she was one of the Council,” you grandmother says quietly, shaking her head.

She pauses, taking a deep breath.

“She always used to visit me when she had time, she loved my strawberry jam.” Your grandmother says to you before looking back to Minho. “I tried looking for her, but I can’t stray very far from my land, it is the price I had to pay.”

Minho nods, sighing and looking down at the table.

“Any my father?” You ask, voice cracking.

“I never knew him, my darling, I’m sorry.” You grandmother turns back to you, her eyes spilling tears. “She didn’t say anything that night.”

You sniff.

“So you’re not really my grandmother?” You ask, your voice cracking.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers again, her head down.

You’ve always known there is something odd about your family. Something not quite right, the stories never seemed to add up perfectly, but this is beyond even your wildest imagination.

“So you’re a daemon?” You ask, voice quiet.

You look at your grandmother, she is sitting slightly hunched over your tangled hands, her neck bent as she doesn’t look you in the eyes and your heart aches.

She nods.

“I will understand if you never come back to me,” she speaks with a shaky voice. “But know that I always took care of you as my own, you will always be my granddaughter.”

You can’t handle it anymore and you lean in, hugging her tightly to you.

You don’t care what she is. You don’t care she is not a human. You’re not one anyway.

She is all you’ve had and you are not going to let that go.

By the time you pull away from the hug, you are sure your eyes are big and puffy and you are looking like a baby tomato.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “This is a bit too much, I think I need some more water.”

Everyone watches you carefully, but you do your best to ignore them. You stand up, slowly taking your hands away from your grandmother’s and grab your empty glass from the table.

You manage to take only a few steps before you feel dizzy, the glass slipping from your fingers, shattering on the ground. The now slightly familiar, but unbearable pressure in your chest returns, your knees buckling under you as you claw at your chest desperate to get rid of the splitting feeling.

You can hear yourself scream, but it is muffled, as if coming from a different room.

You black out.

When you open your eyes again your head is on Junmyeon’s lap as he sits on the floor. Your grandmother is next to you holding your hand tightly, her eyes frantically looking you up and down as Jongin and Minho look over from behind her.

“Let me see your eyes,” Junmyeon mumbles, making you look up to him.

He furrows his eyebrows as he looks at your right eye.

“It happened again, didn’t it?” You ask, your voice croaky.

Junmyeon nods.

“What’s happening?” Your grandmother asks worriedly. “What’s happening to her?”

“You don’t know about this?” Jongin asks, surprise in his voice. “I thought you might know something about it. Haven’t you been around for a really long time?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean it in an offensive way, but your grandmother glares at him nonetheless.

“We do not meddle with witches if we can help it. Most of them only cause trouble,” she spits, before pointing to Minho angrily. “He made it through the door, only because he came in my granddaughter’s company.”

She must’ve looked quite angry, because Jongin nods obediently and Minho takes a step back.

“I think her mother sealed her magic for some reason,” He speaks quietly. “The seal is breaking slowly.”

“She’s been under some serious stress recently,” Jongin adds. “If this continues, it will completely break soon.”

You grandmother looks back down at you as she and Junmyeon help you sit up.

“I didn’t know,” she says sadly, confusion evident in her eyes. “What happens when it breaks?”

“We don’t know,” Minho replies.

“I think we should go,” Junmyeon mumbles more to you than anyone else. “I’m worried we might have been followed and even if these lands are protected I’d rather we didn’t linger and lead them here.”

You feel panic rise in you at the thought and you nod quickly.

“You will be alright?” You ask, turning to your grandmother.

“I’m safe here and I am strongest here,” she replies. “But I wish I could come with you.”

You shake your head sadly.

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle putting you in danger.” You reply, taking a deep breath and getting up to your feet.

Your grandmother follows, her eyes filled with sadness and a tinge of fear before they turn cold and hard as she turns to Junmyeon.

“You must take care of her,” she says, her voice sharp.

~~~

You are hugging a small bag with a few jars of jam, a fresh loaf of bread and your leftover burger that you had shoved in there as you walk into the familiar mansion. Junmyeon is closely by your side as the other two follow you in.

“Could you show me where the kitchen is?” You ask nobody in particular, glancing at the bag in your hands as you kick off your shoes.

Junmyeon nods, gesturing for you to follow him.

Jongin and Minho come with you, saying they want snacks, and you start to wonder if those two ever stopped eating.

Junmyeon pushes open a large mahogany door, similar to most other doors in the house, revealing a spacious kitchen with a long island in the middle of it.

You almost drop the bag in your hands as you notice there is already someone in the room, shuffling through the open fridge.

Baekhyun closes the fridge door, a can of cold energy drink in his hand. He is wearing a dark shirt and tight jeans black jeans. You are starting to question all the black clothes.

“I was wondering when you’d be back.” He says, smiling at his friends, although the smile turns not so friendly when his eyes slide over Minho. “How was your little field trip?”

“Informative,” Junmyeon says from your side, moving a bit closer to you. “Stop wearing shoes around the house” He adds, voice tired.

“She’s a witch apparently,” Jongin mumbles, walking around Baekhyun so he can raid the fridge himself.

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed at the announcement. It sounds ridiculous to your ears.

“Is that so?” Baekhyun asks, his voice tinged with what feels like mockery, as you notice a pair of shiny dress shoes appear in front of your bare feet.

When you look back up you are startled to see how close he is to you.

He is almost hunched over you, staring at you inquisitively, his dark eyes roaming your face before they stop at your eye, whose iris was now almost completely half silver. His gaze lingers there, unnerving you. Neither of you move as he just looks at you, as if waiting.

“Oh, but I think she’s something much more. I can feel it now.” Baekhyun suddenly says, smirking. “You’re a Forbidden Child, darling.”

You stare at him in shock and confusion as he straightens up.

“I haven’t seen one of your kind in a while,” he muses. “I wonder who made that mistake again.” He laughs lightly at his revelation, before stepping around you and leaving all three of you completely dumbfounded.

A/N: THE PLOT THICKENS! Look at me updating and stuff T^T *ignores the burning pile of responsibilities behind me* This story is always so much fun to write, I have a lot of ideas and things planned for it though, so it can actually be a bit overwhelming! I hope you enjoy it nevertheless and I apologise for the very slow updates, but I’m doing my best.

mochi love -3-

Next Chapter - TBD

Ineffable Masterlist

Mochi Masterlist

#dark junmyeon gives me life #although this chapter is a bit more chill than the last ones #suho #exo #junmyeon #exo scenarios #junmyeon scenario #exo scenario #junmyeon scenarios #exo fanfiction #junmyeon fanfic

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theunknown-ericfanfiction · 6 years

Photo

Happy New Year!!

Here’s a little something I’ve been working on.

Alternate Reality. (1)

__________________________________________ Shortfic Eric Morgan pairing. 3577 words. Chapter 1/10. __________________________________________

Eric ran his hand from one side of Morgan’s taut stomach to the other one, slowly trying to feel his daughter move inside.

“How long does this last?” He heard Aleks whisper from the other side, he was sitting next to Morgan in one of the large blue cushioned chairs in the auditorium in Erudite. Eric looked at his side and watched Aleks be sushed by Morgan, he looked down and leaned his head to her stomach.

Morgan placed a hand on his hair and pulled it out of his face, placing the other hand on top of Eric’s and moving it to her side, he felt a tap on his palm, his daughter saying hi.

“It should be finishing soon” she whispered back, then gave Aleks a kiss on the temple.

Eric looked ahead, finding Myra give the analytics and the results of a research they had launched for this new device, it was supposed to be an upgrade from the simulation chairs. This new equipment was meant for the person to be standing still, slightly leaned back on a gurney type set up, to the side there was a computer, and a suspended tray to the other one.

“While the research in how the instrument would affect the human mind, we came across a revolutionary discovery. The machine, besides working perfectly in simulation, can also allow the participant to enter into a reality in which a decisive choice in their life wasn’t made, creating a split on the reality they now know. Of course, this machine has only worked with Erudite workers to perfect it to the last detail in its programing, but now, the Head Leader of Dauntless, Eric Coulter, has offered himself as a volunteer to testify to you the wonder of this new piece of technology, and how it works in the mind of a member from a different faction”

She motioned at him while the room applauded. Eric stood up slowly, and before walking to the middle of the room he gave Morgan one small kiss. He gave him a smile in return and clapped along the rest of the attendees, mostly Erudite researchers along with a few members of each faction in representation.

He walked to the middle of the room with decisive steps, being surrounded by Erudite helpers who made him stand on the lower step of the gurney, then tilted it back slightly while pressing electrodes to his chest and neck, his heart beat sounded from the computer next to him, surprisingly steady.

“The experience can be a little disturbing, we’ve programed a watch with the amount of time you will have inside the machine, for us it will be five minutes, but to you, I’ve programed an hour, would you like me to lower down the time?” Myra asked, taking a syringe with a magenta liquid in it.

Eric shook his head no, and slowly Myra lowered down the needle to his arm, he relaxed as the liquid entered his bloodstream and instantly began to feel the effect.

“If your heart rate increases, we will also take you out of the sim-”

Eyes close.

Eyes open.

Eric slowly leans on his forearms, lifting his chest from the bed. He’s in dauntless, but not in his house, not the house he had with Morgan, it’s his old apartment. Next to him, there’s a blonde woman, sleeping.

In the distance, he hears a baby cry, making the woman stir and turn around, giving him her back.

“Shut that kid up would you?” She mumbled.

Eric frowns and stands up, he’s wearing sleeping pants and a shirt, something he would never use to sleep, not if he had a woman still sleeping next to him.

He walked out of his bedroom, finding his old office still with an office desk in the side, but now it has a crib, the baby is still howling and crying, trashing around.

Eric leans into the crib and looks down, his heart squeezes, finding out the baby is a little girl, given by the pearls on her earings. He scoops her out of the crib and pressed her to his chest, slowly shushing her and moving himself around, making her calm down.

The other woman, whoever she is, didn’t came forward to take care of what he assumed was her child, and that instantly got him in a bad mood.

He walks to the bedroom again and tears the cover from her sleeping form, roughly grabbing her by the arm and shaking her awake.

“Get the fuck up and come take care of my daughter” he comanded.

She stands up with a huff and takes the baby from his arms, walking to the kitchen.

“So much for your daughter, I didn’t think you’ll actually give a shit about her. Me taking care of her isn’t part of our arrangement, I just had her because it what we agreed on” she complained, looking into the fridge to find a bottle of baby formula, heating it up beforehand.

What arrangement? They had agreed to have a baby? If she didn’t take care of her who did? Him? That couldn’t be, he should still be the head leader in dauntless.

“I hope you’ve reported with Jeanine, otherwise you need to get off your ass and do so”

She put the baby down on the crib, tilting the bottle up her mouth and keeping it up with a pillow. As soon as she turned around and walked past him, he walked to the baby and picked her back up, feeding her himself.

“I don’t have time for any of this, I was supposed to meet up with Gregg half hour ago”

“Who the fuck is Gregg?” He asked, turning around and looking at her get into a short short and a crop top.

She frowned when she finished and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bedside table

“My boyfriend” she said with an obvious tone. She placed a cigarette in her lips and intended to light it up

“The fuck do you mean you have a boyfriend” he said walking to her into the bedroom, when Eric asked about the boyfriend, she took the cigarette out and gave him a confused frown.

“Eric, you’ve know about my boyfriend for months, I don’t tell you anything when I come home and find you with one of your whores jumping on your dick” she lighted up the cigarette and walked past him “did you fall and hit your head last night?”

Eric swatted away the cigarette smoke away from his baby, seeing that he was still holding her.

Like a ton of bricks, the memories hit him.

The moment he saw her first, her name was Briana, Erudite transfer.

The moment Jeanine came to threaten him, telling him he would lose his spot in dauntless leadership with a trial of treason to the faction system that would surely grant him his death.

The moment he agreed, and she told him he would have to for a pairing with the Erudite transfer they sent in. How they would have to maintain a normal relationship, and how Briana was going to be the main courier of information between dauntless and Erudite.

The moment he realized that the fight against divergents was still a thing, that the had to identify the divergents and take them to Erudite for inhumane experimentation.

The explicit moment Briana told him that Jeanine had demanded of them to have a child to put some more strength into the image they gave to the outside world, to the other factions and their own.

The moment he remembered how Briana didn’t take care of herself while still pregnant.

The moment that had never happened, he never met Morgan.

That was the decision he never made, or Morgan never made.

A slam on the door pulled him out of his memories, and he looked down at his baby to find her fast asleep. Laurelei. At least he had that coincidence with his actual life.

He left her in the safe care of the dauntless nanny they had, she was apparently the one who took care of her all day.

He walked to the dauntless records and began searching.

Was Morgan the one who never transferred? Or was he the one who never met her?

With fast taps on the keyboard he looked for her in the database. Nothing, she wasn’t here.

He took a trip to Erudite by train, and while on the way he thought of how his life was in this reality.

He never met Morgan, so he never married her, therefore, he continued to be his usual dick self. He’d gotten tired of Jeannine’s constant requests and means to get him to work with her. One of the many girls they had sent in was actually his couple now, they had a child both of them didn’t want. Briana was a fucking bitch, and he was his old asshole uncaring selfish self.

He couldn’t believe how much his life was affected by just meeting Morgan.

He jumped off the train and walked into Erudite HQ. He didn’t know where Morgan would be if she was here, what would she be good at in Erudite?

He walked aimlessly around the quarters, not wanting to attract any more attention that would get him kicked out.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he found her, writing on a clipboard.

Instantly he felt aroused, because he never thought Morgan would look that hot in Erudite attire, and specially in glasses.

She pushed them up the bridge of her nose and gave the girl next to her a nod.

She walked, still looking back at her clip of papers and towards him, he saw her walk by, her ponytail moving with the pace of her hips.

“Morgan” he called. She kept walking. Of course, Morgan was not Morgan, she wasn’t called that in this reality. “Emily” he called again.

This time she turned around and gave him a look, pressing her clip to her chest.

“How may I be of assistance sir?” She asked. Fuck him wasn’t she hot when she called him sir.

“You didn’t transfer to Dauntless” he said. She gave him a smirk and then laughed.

“Shouldn’t you be hunting for divergents Mr Coulter?” She asked, avoiding the question.

“Em, you got the chart with the results of the divergents to the new serum?”

Eric moved his eyes, and his blood boiled.

“Should’ve know you would end up with this prick” he said, clenching his fist and walking to Cris, Morgan’s ex in his normal reality.

“Excuse me?” He asked, looking at Eric, then at Morgan. He was about to talk to her again, but Eric lounged to him and grabbed him by the soles of his click blue jacket “I’m calling security” he said.

Eric pulled him to his face, fisting his jacket.

“I don’t want you to go near her, I know what you’ve done to her” he said.

Cris looked to the side and to Morgan.

“What the fuck have you told him?” He spouted at her.

In this reality, and even in his real one, no one was allowed to speak to Morgan like that, and if this was a simulation either way, he might as well give this asshole the beatdown he never could back on the day, when Morgan was just in initiation.

Cris pushed him back and looked at Morgan with an angry frown.

“You wait until I tell your father about you talking about our arrangement” he said roughly grabbing Morgan by the arm and pulling her to the elevator doors.

Eric felt his blood boil some more, but before he could take a walk to stop him, he felt himself be tackled to the ground by Erudite security, which were normal dauntless guards in service of Erudite. Eric trashed, and he felt his stomach turn in rage when he looked up again and saw Morgan being pushed into the elevator, a scared look on her face, and when she turned around, Cris stamped the back of his hand on her cheek.

Eric lounged forwards as he grunted in rage, trying to break free from the guards.

Eyes open.

The beeping on his side had increased erratically, showing his heartbeat. He was breathing in and out heavily, and looked around.

Morgan was looking back at him with a frown, Aleks as well.

The gurney tilted back to a standing position and the Erudite helpers took out the electrodes from his neck.

“So, how did it feel? How did you perceive the world?” Myra asked

Eric cleared his throat and ran a hand on his neck, he looked at it to find it damped with cold sweat.

“Everything was real, the sounds, the smell, the touches, as if it was here. I was aware it wasn’t my world, but I retained memories from my life in there”

“And how was your life in there?” She asked. Eric looked at Morgan again.

“A fucking nightmare”

Myra let out a little nervous laugh and pressed her hand to his arm, pushing him slowly back to his seat.

“But it can’t be like that for all people, the machine adapts to the different memories from the different participants, making it an instrument to explore a thousand different realities” she explained. “Thank you so much for your dauntless”

Eric nodded, and the people in the room applauded, standing up closing the presentation.

Morgan met him halfway, holding Aleks by the hand, waddling to him, Eric reached out to touch her stomach.

He felt Morgan’s hand on his neck, touching the sweat in it.

“Are you okay?” She asked, Eric let out a big breath and looked down at Aleks, picking him up on his arm, he rounded Morgan’s waist with his arm and pulled her to his side, walking out.

Once in the dauntless truck, Eric pulled Aleks to his lap and turned on the truck, Aleks liked to drive with him.

“I drive!” Aleks celebrated while he put the truck on drive. Eric drove back, keeping Aleks and the truck steady. He placed his hand in Morgan’s thigh.

“How was it in there?” She asked, holding Eric’s hand.

“A fucking nightmare Morgan. I’m never going back in there”

He parked on the garage of dauntless and hopped off, landing Aleks on the floor and watching him run ahead. Morgan circled the truck and waited for him to come around.

He wasn’t himself after that, he had memories mixed of his life in the machine, and his life here.

He sat in the love seat of their bedroom, overlooking the city and slowly sipping a glass of whiskey.

“Boop” Morgan said, gently touching his arm with her belly, Eric leaned his cheek to her stomach, feeling Morgan’s hand on her neck. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eric leaned back and invited her to seat in between his legs, Morgan pushed her back to his chest, allowing Eric to place his hand on her stomach.

“Everything was fucked. I was fucked.” He slowly circled his hand around her stomach, hoping his baby girl was awake in there to feel it. “You were never in dauntless, you never transferred. I had a girl I was paired with, one of the Erudite girls I told you about, to keep me in check with Erudite and our agreement.” He stopped, and tried to remember anything else, the memories he had vividly inside the machine weren’t that easy to access anymore. “I had a baby, a girl.” He continued circling on Morgan’s stomach “she wasn’t as beautiful as this one will be because she wasn’t yours, she was that other bitche’s, a slut who doesn’t care about her. And I didn’t care about her”

He shook his head and sighed, pressing his cheek to Morgan’s head

“But it wasn’t a younger version of me, it was still me, and you were still as old as you are. It’s as if it’s another reality, like what would’ve happened if you never transferred and we never met”

“It’s because it was. It is another reality, but that only exists when you’re in there to live it”

“No” he shook his head “things were still progressing, in real time” Eric could still faintly hear his daughter cry in her crib. “What’s happening to that kid now? Am I still the same old me in there when I’m not living there but here?”

Morgan pulled to sit straight and looked back at him.

“Eric, this is the only reality you’re living in, the thing in the machine is a figment of your imagination”

“But who’s in there to protect that kid?” He asked with a little broken voice “that is my kid in there”

“Eric, your only two kids are out here” she tried to reason with him.

“I know, but the other reality is still embedded in my mind, I can’t turn my back on this. I can’t turn my back on you, you need me in there”

“I need you out here more than in there” she fought, standing up “oh my God are you seriously saying you want to go in there and protect that kid and a version of me that doesn’t exist?”

“They exist to me” he said standing up as well. “Morgan if you went in there and saw how your life turned out to be you would want me to go back in there and help”

“And how was my life in there?”

“You were in Erudite, in some kind of arrangement with your dad and that dickhead ex boyfriend of yours, Cris, and he still beats you up, in public”

Morgan’s eyes moved away from his and she touched her stomach, feeling her girl kick. Eric placed his hand on hers and leaned to look down at her.

“Morgan it’s weighting down on my conscience, if I was there for only five minutes… I just need five more, I have to do something”

“If you uh” she cleared her throat and spoke a little more convinced “if you feel like it’s more important to save the world on that reality than to spend your time with me, with Aleks, our real family, then be my guest” she motioned at the door and pulled Eric’s hand from her stomach, walking out of the bedroom.

Eric hated himself for making Morgan think she wasn’t that important, that he would rather be somewhere else than here.

He walked behind her, holding her by the hand and pulling her to his chest.

“Morgan is not like that” he said, holding her by the waist and feeling her stomach touch his.

“What is it like then?”

“I can’t explain it to you unless you enter and see it for yourself, everything is real, everything you feel is real, and I can’t stand to watch you be miserable in there, I had to see you get dragged into an elevator and be bitch slapped. And I know it wasn’t really you in there but not even in my dreams I can let anything happen to you. Just five minutes it’s all I ask. And it’s not like I’m going in there to fuck some chicks, I’m going in to help you”

Morgan sighed and looked down, clearing her throat again.

“Did I really got beaten by Cris?”

“He called you Em, maybe you two are a thing? Maybe your dad’s got you threatened, I don’t know Morgan you’re in trouble”

“My name is Emily?” She asked with a little snort, turning around “was I at least hot in Erudite?”

He held her by the waist and pulled her back to her chest, smiling and kissing her neck.

“You have no idea how fast you made me hard” he said on her ear. “you and your little blue skirt and your glasses” he bit on her neck and gave it a quick kiss “I still like how you are now, I bet you don’t have any tattoos in Erudite form”

“Tattoos are a dauntless thing” she pulled Eric’s hands away from her waist and gave him a smile “okay, you can go and save me in there, but the first sign I see you getting to anxious to go back in there to be with Erudite me, I’m cutting the shit alright? This is the only version of me you’re allowed to love” she pointed at herself.

Eric gave her a smile as he leaned in to cup her cheeks.

“This is the only version of you I love. And I promise, I just want to make things right, I can’t stand to turn my back on this, even if it isn’t real”

“Okay” she said “we can have the machine transported here and I can get a little course on how to put you under, to make sure it’s only the two of us in the room”

“Thank you” he said in a sigh, pulling her I again and kissing her shoulder, then her neck and her jaw. “I just feel like I have to be with you in every reality to wake up, I’m still not engaging in that world. I’ve given up, I gave up and let Jeanine control me and I don’t want that”

“And we’re not letting her” she said, hugging him back by the shoulders.

#Eric Morgan #Eric dauntless #Eric divergent #Eric fanfic #Eric x oc #divergent #dauntless #fanfic #Eric Coulter #jai courtney #gal Gadot

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justrae2010 · 6 years

Link

Victor had an obscenely bright smile on his face as he crossed the office with long, purposeful strides, open laptop balanced on his hand like a waiter might carry a tray in a fancy restaurant. His eyes carved his path towards the dark hair poking up from behind the computer monitor, bowed over some papers. Victor’s heart skipped a beat regardless, trying to control the rush of blood warming his cheeks with excitement.

Finally.

Finally, he got a chance to talk to Yuuri Katsuki.

It had been far too long, the embarrassment of their last encounter still painfully fresh in Victor’s mind. A man like him didn’t forget. He needed to do better this time.

Play it cool, he willed of himself in his head, forcing his breaths out in long, steady strokes. Even they felt embarrassingly obvious. He needed to calm down. Play it cool, play it smooth, play it cool-

Victor tripped.

His laptop clacked down hard on the desktop as the front of his ankle collided with the low leg of a swivelling chair with a hard crack and he pitched forward, legs turning to jelly beneath him, heart in his mouth. His hand slapped out, wild and impulsive – it hit the table top a fraction of a second before his face would have.

Air choked out of Victor’s lungs when everything stopped, bangs rustling in front of his face and heartbeat hammering in his chest with shock. He stared down at the desktop he’d been inches away from slamming into, eyes wide.

“Oh my God!”

Chair wheels squeaked. Smart shoes peeked into the corner of Victor’s down turned eyes. Victor’s heart plummeted – he recognised those shoes.

“A-are you okay?”

Not quite the suave entrance he was hoping for but Victor still tried to hold together the last of his composure as he slowly straightened up, hand firm on the desktop and careful his knees wouldn’t give out beneath him or face burst into shameful colour. His mouth stayed drawn a thin, mortified line though, eyes steeling with his resolve not to just let his face fall into his hands with embarrassment.

Yuuri’s eyes were round and glittering, shimmering with genuine concern. It pulled on Victor’s heartstrings – he was just so cute!

“Y-yeah, I’m fine,” Victor said with a stiff smile, brushing off his waistcoat and trying to ignore that faint tremor in his voice. “I, um…” Oh God, what did he need again? “I need you to contact the Poland. They’re not agreeing to our balance.”

Yuuri blinked.

“Um … yeah,” he finally said. “Sure.” His cheeks dusted pink, eyes flickering to the chair Victor had tripped over. “Maybe you… maybe you should sit down for a bit?”

The colour looked gorgeous on him, just like it had during their first fumble with the paperwork. Victor liked that rosy blush on Yuuri, he decided, heart skipping a beat at the steady bloom of colour lifting his cheekbones and smattering over the bridge of his nose.

It took a minute for Yuuri’s words to sink in.

…and when they did, Victor tried not to choke on his own spit.

Sit? As in, there? Next to Yuuri? Victor was backing into the chair before he knew it, nearly cartwheeling it back in his haste.

“Um, yes,” he stumbled over his words. He wasn’t usually this flustered. “I think you’re right.”

About everything, he rambled on in his head. About the seat, about the numbers, about everything in the whole universe, and I will make this my new desk to sit here forever-

“Is it Dawid for Poland?”

Victor blinked up from his thoughts, snapping back to reality. Yuuri stared at him with the sweetest little confused pinch between his eyebrows. Victor didn’t stand a chance…

Yuuri’s frown deepened. “…is he the best contact?”

Oh, right, Victor remembered, jolting himself out of the haze of Yuuri’s caramel brown eyes, flecked with fringes of gold. Yuuri was talking to him.

“Yes,” he sighed, breathier than he meant to. He cleared his throat, hoping Yuuri didn’t notice. “Dawid and Tatiana.”

Yuuri pushed back on his chair with a nod, fingers already reaching for his keyboard. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll chase them up now.”

Minutes later, a new email pinged up on Victor’s screen. From Yuuri. Victor clicked it open in a heartbeat.

It was nothing special, just exactly what Victor had asked for with him CC-ed into the request. Please amend your balance, it said, as per the attached statement of your closing account balance for January. An excel file was attached, labelled nice and neatly. Everything was perfect. Polite but urgent, pressing but not pushy. It was exactly what Victor had wanted and Yuuri had delivered flawlessly. Victor lingered on the electronic signature at the bottom – Yuuri Katsuki … his eyes flickered across the desk.

Sparkling brown eyes and shy, sweet smile shot back at him, looking adorably nervous and slightly unsure and-

Victor all but melted in his chair, heart fluttering.

Oh, Yuuri was so good.

#yoi #Yuri on ice #fanfiction #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #accounting au #numbers ARE cool #mine

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selenelavellan · 6 years

Note

Selene and Dirthamen are accountants for different firms that are located in the same building. Selene's much smaller firm decides to do renovations in the office, so for the next two weeks, the accountants have to share desks with Dirthamen's firm. Selene and Dirthamen end up sharing a desk.

Accountants AU

Dirthamen, Elgar’nan, and the Evanuris family (mentioned) are @feynites

tw for brief mention of abuse towards the end, food, and a hot and heavy make out session

The box is heavy in her arms,overfilled with pens and notebooks and various desk supplies. It's astruggle to hit the button in the elevator; several floors higherthan her old location had been.

Music drones on quietly in the smallspace, two more crammed in beside her, each with a similar box oftheir own.

“Not really the way I wanted to moveup,” Enastaren mutters, shifting the container in his arms.

“Beggars can't be choosers,”Melanadahl teases back to his brother. “Do well while we're hereand you may luck into something more permanent. I'll earn my spot ofcourse, but hey, luck got you this far.”

“You're a cocky little shit forsomeone who slept with a nightlight well into high school, you knowthat?” Enastaren shoots back. Selene snickers from her placebetween them, her role as a barrier between the brothers wellestablished by now.

“That was mood lighting, youjerk.”

“Then why was it still on even whenyou didn't have company over?”

The door dings open and the two stopbickering as they all finally step out onto the top floor. Selenefeels awkward, trying not to look out of place in a room full ofpeople wearing designer suits and shoes, thankful to have the box tokeep her hands from pulling on the hem of her skirt habitually.

“Anyone know where we're actuallyworking up here...?” She whispers to the other two before theirboss- The boss, everyone who works in this buildingsboss- appears from their right.

“Hello!” He booms, arms wide.“Welcome to the main hub for Evanuris Empires financial needs! Weappreciate your cooperation while your floor is being remodeled.Please, feel free to partake in any of the amenities available to youwhile you're here.”

“Mr. Evanuris!” Enastaren beams,sliding his box under one arm to allow him to shake hands with theother. “It's an honor!”

Both brothers step forward to introducethemselves to him while Selene stays in place, box clutched tightlyin hand.

Is it really normal for the presidentof the company to personally show transfers around...?

“And you must be Miss Selene!” hedeclares, loudly enough that most everyone in the room stops to lookup at her.

She briefly debates the merits ofturning around and going back out the elevator, getting onto a bus,and looking for another job elsewhere as she feels her body trying toshrink in on itself at the attention.

“I-er-yes. Yes, it's a pleasure tomeet you.” she finally manages.

“We've met before!” He announces,hand smacking into her back as though they were old friends and verynearly sending her toppling forward.

“We have?”

“Of course! You were in attendance atthe holiday celebrations! I was the one in the large red suit!”

Selene blinks, mind racing for a momentbefore- oh!

“You mean the charity party?”

“Yes, yes! You were there with yourcharming little daughter! She wanted the light up dragon toy, yes?”

She nearly breaks out in laughter atthe looks of confusion and betrayal coming from Melanadahl and his brother overElgar'nans shoulders, but just shakes her head. “Er, no. I mean,yes, I was there, but no, that wasn't my daughter.”

Elgar'nans face drops slightly at thenews as he lets out an almost pathetically soft “No?”

“No, my neighbors both had to workthat night, and they asked me to bring her as a favor. She'swonderful, and I babysit her on occasion, but she isn't mine. I don'thave any children.”

“But you do enjoy childrenthen? You would like to have some of your own, one day?”

Selene hesitates, the truth thick onher tongue and her boss's boss's boss's eyes heavy on her own.

No, I ran away from myparents at a young age and they never even bothered to look for me.

No, I have no example to pullfrom for a healthy family dynamic and I don't think I could pull itoff.

No, because what if I end up justlike them?

“...Maybe?” she says, and feels theheavy lead of guilt settle in her stomach as he smiles in approval ather as though her 'maybe' were a 'yes I absolutely wanthoards and hoards of children of my own' and he had some sort ofpersonal stake in the matter.

“Wonderful!” he proclaims, his handon her shoulder-blade as he steers her towards one of the privateoffices on the eastern side of the building. He moves to open thedoor, frowning briefly when he discovers it locked and knocks loudly,twice.

The door clicks open, and a young manwith dark hair and a similar jawline to her boss's own is standing onthe other side, looking caught off guard by the pair of them.

“You two will be sharing this officewhile the third floor is under renovations,” Elgar'nan declares,pushing Selene past the other man and into the room, taking the boxfrom her grip with ease and plunking it down atop the large woodendesk. “Please make sure she is well accommodated.”

The door frame shakes with the force ofbeing swung closed, Elgar'nan taking his exit before any argumentscan be brought up.

Selene swallows, shifting awkwardly onher feet and wondering what her next move should be.

“You have my apologies,” The mansighs. “Father can be very heavy handed when he gets an idea intohis head.”

“It's fine,” Selene lies, despiteit being very much not fine. She's overwhelmed and uncomfortable andconcerned that if this doesn't go well she could be out of a job andback on the streets. Not that Melanadahl and Enastaren are likely toactually force her out of the apartment, but if she can't hold up herend of the bills, they could all be in trouble. Rent is higher thisclose to the city, but still cheaper than all the expenses that wouldcome with a car, not to mention the complications of potentiallybeing shared between three people.

No. No, she has to make thiswork.

“Where should I set up?”

–

The morning passes in silence. Selenefocuses on getting her work done on her laptop on one side of thedesk while Dirthamen works on his own computer at the other. At 12:30exactly, someone knocks and asks for Dirthamen's lunch order.

“What would you like?” He asksSelene, finally addressing her directly. It's so unexpected, shefreezes for a moment.

“I brought my lunch. Sorry. Thankyou, though?”

His lip twitches slightly as he asksthem for his usual and returns to his work without another word.

About twenty minutes later, they returnwith a tray carrying a large summer salad and a bottled water,dropping it off at Dirthamen's desk (which is also her desk now, atleast temporarily she supposes) and leaving without another word.

“Are you on a diet?” She asks,digging through her still largely unpacked box for the smallinsulated purple bag containing her own lunch and thermos oflemonade.

“No,” he says without anyadditional information.

Selene nods, carefully unwrapping herturkey sandwich and trying to eat it as quietly as possible.

“Do you always make your lunch?” Heasks.

Selene nods in affirmation, trying toquickly swallow her last bite before speaking. “Mine, Melanadahls, and Enastarens.”

“Brothers?”

“Not mine, but to each other.”

“You are dating one of them, then?”

Selene lets out a laugh, covering hermouth to keep from spraying any lingering bits of food. “Definitelynot. I met Melanadahl in grade school, and his family offered me aplace to stay. It was just easier to split rent when we moved out.”

“I see.”

It's the last thing he says to her thatday.

–

The first week goes in a similarpattern; much of the day is spent in silence, each of them working ontheir own accounts. He starts sending her out of the room duringcertain phone calls, and she just takes the opportunities to check onher roommates and grab a cappuccino from the top floors unnecessarilycomplicated coffee machine.

“Trade me,” Enastaren pleads as shepoints out a decimal in the wrong place on his screen.

“Why?”

“Because you're rubbing elbows andwho knows what else with the man who'll one day be our boss.”Melanadahl chimes in from his own spot one desk over.

“He barely even speaks, the noisiestthing in that office is the keyboards,” Selene argues. “It's notlike we're bonding.”

“I could handle that,” Enastarenmuses “I could just speak enough for the both of us.”

“You speak enough for the wholeworld, bro. Maybe learn to shut up sometimes instead.”

“Whatever,” Enastaren says as helobs one of his stress balls at his younger brothers head. “Trademe?”

Selene hums quietly, nails tappingagainst the edge of the mug in her hand as she contemplates hercurrent office partner. Things are quiet, but it's turned into acomfortable silence, each of them becoming accustomed to the othersworking habits. It's not permanent, and it's likely the carpets willbe finished in just another week or so, but it's nice. Coming to workis a bit less dreadful, knowing he's going to be there.

“Nah.”

–

“Do you have plans for the weekend?”Dirthamen asks as she returns to their office.

“Not really,” She shrugs. “Do youneed help with something?”

He hesitates.

“No, I do not.”

She nods and shifts slightly in herheels. “Ok.”

“Do you enjoy movies?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

He leans back in his chair, fingerstoying carefully with the edge of his tie. “Would you be willing toaccompany me to one?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “At some eventI don't know about yet?”

“No. It would be a date.”

Selene carefully places the still hotmug down on the desk, slowly taking her usual seat as she bites downon her lower lip.

“Is...that allowed? Isn't thatagainst HR policies or something?”

“We do not technically work in thesame department, so there is no legal reason to fear for youremployment if you say yes.”

“But there is one if I sayno?”

Dirthamen blinks, eyebrow furrowingslightly at her question. “No. Your decision is not a factor inyour future employment here. Even if you were not to go along with myfathers machinations, mother enjoys your work and has been lookingfor a higher position for you for some weeks already.”

“I'm getting a promotion?”

“That seems likely, yes.”

Selene slumps back into her chair, handsliding nervously over her scalp. A promotion. This was supposed tobe a temporary job, just something to pay the bills while she workedtowards her own projects. The companies reputation was never thecleanest, and it wasn't one she was planning to associate with for anextended period of time. In fact, its turnover rate for the firstthree months of employment is notoriously high. But here she is,nearly a year later, and being looked at for a promotion by the CEO.

The money is good, and the hours so far are easily manageable. Theydo work with a lot of charities, and maybe those other issuesare just...rumors. Wouldit be so terrible to stick around?

An awkward silence permeates the roomas Dirthamen continues to fiddle with his tie.

“Are you interested in the movies? Oris there some other event you would prefer to attend?”

Selene blinks up at him, yanked out ofher thoughts.

“Oh. Oh, no.”

His face falls slightly and her handsshoot up “I mean yes! I meant-there's no other event I know of,the movies sound fine. Do you-are you sure, though?”

He nods. “Yes.”

Selene nods back. “Ok. Ok, yes, Iwould like to go to the movies with you this weekend.”

–

He picks her up at 7 the followingevening, but Melanadahl makes him sit on the couch while he andEnastaren finish going over her outfit.

“Stay still,” Enastaren gripes,tightening his hold on her chin. The eyeliner pencil glides over hereyelid and she struggles not to blink at the tickling sensation.

“This really isn't necessary. Who'seven going to notice in a movie theater? They turn off all thelights.”

Melanadahl sighs and pats her shoulderconsolingly. “Oh my sweet summer child. Your date is rich. Crazy,disgustingly,could-probably-just-buy-himself-a-bride-or-a-large-orgies-worth-of-whores-on-a-whimrich. If you want to hold his attention, you'll have to put in someeffort.”

“The effort was getting into thesepants,” She argues before Enastaren yells at her to stay stillagain.

“Your legs are your strongest assethere,” Melanadahl says. “The pants and strappy heels will help toelongate them.”

“Shouldn't my personality be mystrongest asset?”

“Sure, sure. But you don't have muchin the tits area, so we're making up for things. The looseness of theshirt tucked into the high waist skinny jeans will keep him guessingenough to stay interested, and the sleeveless cut will remind him youcould pick him up and pin him against a wall if the urge strikes.”

“The boy's a bottom,” Enastarenagrees, finally finished with her eyeliner. “Definitely play up thearms bit.”

“I hate you both,” Selene gritsout.

“You'll thank us when you're rich.”

–

The movie goes smoothly. Dirthamentreats, and they see a movie that has already been out a few weeks sothe theater is practically empty. He comments on the bright blue ofher top once they're seated, and Selene compliments him on the cut ofhis coat.

Her stomach is grumbling by thetime they exit, having skipped lunch at Melanadahls insistence thatshe do so to fit into the high-waisted pants.

“Would you allow me to treat you todinner?” Dirthamen asks at the noise.

Selene turns slightly red and thankshim, agreeing with ease. She's not picky about food, and tells himwherever he'd like would be fine.

She nearly swallows her tongue whenthey drive up to one of the most expensive restaurants in town.

“You don't have to do this,” Sheassures him as he hands his keys to the valet.

“It is not a problem. We have astanding table at this location, and it is not currently in use.”

Selene shifts in her heels, feelingunder dressed in her old jeans. He seems to notice, taking her handcarefully in his own, thumb running over her knuckles. “You lookvery striking.”

She gives him a slow smile as she letssome of the tension fall out of her shoulders. “Thank you.”

He leads her towards a curved booth inthe back of the restaurant, hand still wrapped around her own as shehears her heart beat thrumming in her ears from the contact.

They have barely ordered their entreeswhen the waiter returns with a large assortment of flowers and abottle of champagne sitting in ice. Selene and Dirthamen both seemconfused by its presence, and it abruptly ends their previousdiscussion.

“I did not order these,” Dirthamenfrowns.

“They were ordered for you by ananonymous bar patron,” The waiter returns, taking a deep bow andtheir leave.

Selene carefully lifts the champagneout of the bucket, checking the label; she recognizes it. The sameone from the holiday charity event.

Dirthamen stands, looking towards thebar and letting out a long breath; Selene can see Elgar'nan wavingback from behind a hat and a pair of sunglasses, a drink of his own in hand.

“I didn't realize your father wasjoining us,” Selene jokes as Dirthamen sits back down.

“He is not. He did not inform me hewould be here, I was assured-” He closes his eyes and lets outanother breath. “I apologize.”

“It's alright,” She tells him,taking his hand back in hers and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ijust don't understand why.”

“He...desires grandchildren.”

Selene blinks.

Looks at the champagne, and theflowers, and the mortified look on Dirthamen's face.

“Oh.”

“I did not wish to push this on you.I would not force you to...Truthfully, I do not desire children, butmy father does not seem to understand when I try to tell him. PerhapsI am being unclear, we often have issues communicating with oneanother.”

“Dad's are like that,” Selene sighswithout thinking.

This time it is Dirthamen who lookssurprised.

“This is the first time you havementioned your parents.”

Selene scowls slightly into her waterglass. “There's not much to mention.”

He nods in supposed understanding.

“I don't want kids either,” Sheadmits. “I mean, not right now, at least. Or anytime soon. I have alot of other things I want to do.”

“My father said you desired manychildren.”

“Well, your father lied,” Selenesays before wincing. “Don't tell him I said that, I really could befired.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

–

His shirt is untucked, her handssliding against the skin of his stomach as he lets out a longrumbling groan. She grins against his lips, pressing him back intothe front door of his apartment. He tastes like chocolate mousse andraspberry sauce, and his own fingers are fumbling with the top buttons ofher shirt.

“Do you need to unlock the door?”She hums, mouth trailing down his neck as her fingers pop open thebutton of his collar to allow her more space.

He moans out an affirmation, and shetrails her fingers back down his chest, opening button after buttonas she goes. She traces over the line of his belt, hands splitting tomove down his thighs before one slips into his pocket and pulls outhis keys. She slips them into his hand and takes a step back,admiring the mess of his hair and the lack of his usual straight-faced decorum inthe moment.

He fumbles with the keys, opening thelock before turning and practically yanking her back into hisapartment. She smiles, lips crashing against his as he leads hertowards the couch, shedding layers as they go. She's still stuck inthe damn pants, but her bra is one of her nicer ones, and combinedwith the heels it's still passing for a pretty good look.

Dirthamen doesn't seem to becomplaining, at least.

He falls back onto the couch and sheperches herself in his lap, fitting her lips against his again whilehis hands traverse the length of her thighs. She shivers in response,hands gripping the back of his head in an effort to pull him closer.She's never done this before, not really, but she's familiar withmost of what's involved. She knows the techniques and the theory andknows how to read his responses. Noises are good, skin contact isbetter. When his fingers twitch over the curve of her ass, she grindscarefully against his lap. Not a promise; she's still not sure ifshe's willing to go that far yet and besides that she isn't sure ifshe can in these stupid pants, but the response is immediateand gratifying as his own hips move up to meet her.

He sighs out her name, armswrapping around her so affectionately that it throws her off. Notliterally, but she slows in her movements against him, hands slidingover his red marked neck and flushed shoulders.

The kisses cool off, less hungry andravenous and slowing into a gentle sort of passion. He nuzzles hisface against her own and she returns the gesture without thinking,feeling most of the tension and pressure fall away at his lack ofinsistence.

The kisses and exploratory touchescontinue well into the sunrise, until their skin is alight andtingling and they're both panting from over sensitivity, down totheir undergarments and stretched out over the length of his bed.

“I should go,” She murmurs into thesoft press of his cheek.

He makes a small grumbling noise, armswrapping around her waist as he pulls her closer and she worries shemight ignite just from the press of his skin to hers.

“It isSunday.” he argues, as though that fact in itself should be enoughto get the rest of the world to melt away.

“The world doesn't stop turning onSundays. I still have to go to the store, and buy groceries andprobably do a load of laundry.”

“Let your roommates buy thegroceries,” he suggests, peppering her back and shoulders withfeather light kisses that feel like tiny sparks. “I will buy youmore clothes.”

Selene snorts at the suggestion,although he seems entirely serious. She shifts, turning around in hisarms to look at him face to face. She means to argue, to tell him shehas responsibilities and she can't just throw money at things andexpect it all to work out, that she's expected elsewhere, probably.

But the early morning sun is lightingup his eyes in a way that makes her heart skip a beat. A way thatreminds her of the first time she ran all the way to the ocean, stillcovered in dirt and blood and the bruise from her father, and the waythe same sun had lit up the waves. The feeling of the salt airfilling her lungs, the shocking cold of the water rolling over herfeet, and the sound of nothing but the world moving around her, openand daring her to make a choice.

Her first taste of freedom.

“Ok,” She decides, fingers driftingover the length of his back lightly enough to make him shiver againsther. “I'll stay.”

#accountant au #dirthalene #answered #'just a drabble' i tell myself before spending an entire day on it #whoops #matchmaker elgar'nan take 2 really #selene lavellan #melanadahl #enastaren #scurvgirl

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