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httphopewrld · 3 years

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I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind @kawaisoraya

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“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time. Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#jhope bts #jhopoe fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #hoseok smut #hoseok angst #hoseok fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng #hobiuary2021 #hodevent

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gra-sonas · 3 years

Text

WHAT BETTER WAY TO CELEBRATE THE RENEWAL OF ROSWELL NEW MEXICO FOR SEASON 4 THAN WITH A MALEX FIC! 👏

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is all @prouvaireafterdark‘s fault btw. Lynne posted the screenshot of a tweet yesterday:

A few weeks ago, I tried to literally bore my 3yo to sleep by telling him everything I knew about nuclear and particle physics. It's a fair bit, it was my speciality once. Every night since then, as he's falling asleep, his little voice pipes up: "tell me about atoms daddy."

And she captioned the post Tell me these aren’t Michael Guerin dad vibes, I dare you

Well, I started writing what I thought would be a short ficlet in reply to the dare during my lunch break, but somehow there were a couple more words left to write.

So here are 2.3K (PG) words of dads!Malex and their son. The fic’s also been posted to AO3.

~*~

It’s Michael’s turn to go through bedtime routine with Matt. Alex snuggles deeper into the warmth of the colorful throw Rosa gave them for Christmas and listens to his two favorites having a deep discussion about the necessity of flossing in the bathroom.

“Papa said I have milk teeth and that they’ll fall out when I’m older. I don’t need to floss,” Alex hears their three year old argue. He snorts. “They will fall out in about three years, that’s a long time for you to still rely on those milk teeth. Come here, Daddy’s gonna floss with you.” Michael’s reply makes Alex smile. He’s so good with Matt. Always happy to explain things, and answering their son’s million questions with the patience of a saint.

He loves Matt’s intriguing mind and his enthusiastic curiosity, but having to explain the ins and outs of cyber security to a toddler after a long day working on improving other people’s cyber security could be a bit much at times. Alex is just grateful that he gets to relax on the sofa and can leave it to Michael to take care of Matt tonight. He takes a sip from his red wine and closes his eyes. What a beautiful evening, and depending on how fast Matt will fall asleep, he has plans to make out with Michael like in the good old days. Just the two of them, in front of the roaring fire.

When he hears the pitter-patter of tiny naked feet on the hardwood floor, he opens his eyes just in time to see Matt speed around the corner, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Look, Papa, my teeth are clean and Daddy showed me how to floss!” He fletches his teeth at Alex, who leans forward to thoroughly inspect Matt’s teeth.

“Wow, you didn’t miss a spot. Excellent job!” Matt flings himself at Alex and wraps his small arms around Alex’s neck. “Daddy has promised to read me a bedtime story. Do you want to come?” Alex wraps Matt into a tight hug and breathes in his scent. Rain, just like his Daddy. Alex presses a kiss into Matt’s dark curls. “I’m a bit tired tonight, Matt, is it okay if I stay on the couch?”

“You stay on the couch and relax, Papa, Daddy and I can handle bringing me to bed.” Alex has a hard time keeping a straight face. “I’m so glad to hear that. Sweet dreams, sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow morning.” Matt plasters a flurry of wet kisses all over Alex’s face. “Me, too, Papa. Goodnight!”

He lets go of Alex, and storms out of the living room, passing Michael on his way out, who’s leaning against the door frame. “I won’t take long, we agreed on one bedtime story and me telling him something about the stars. That should put him to sleep quickly. Prepare to be ravished when I come back.” He throws a kiss at Alex who pretends to catch it. “I’m counting on it. I have plans. Wicked plans. I’m in dire need of a mind-blowing orgasm. You up for that?”

Michael pretends to adjust his jeans. “Not yet, but I’ll be, no worries. I’ll blow your mind, and if you’re asking nicely, also your dick,” he smirks. Alex laughs. “My husband’s a sweet talker. Go, get our kid to sleep, and then come back to me. I love you.”

Michael’s wicked smile turned soft. “I love you, too. I hope it won’t take longer than 20 minutes.” He turns around and leaves, the living room door falling shut behind him without Michael touching it. “Showoff,” Alex murmurs fondly, then he wraps himself up in the blanket again and allows himself to drift off for a nap until Michael’s return.

~*~

“Hey, sleepyhead, you still up for that mind-blowing orgasm?” Michael whispers into Alex’s ear almost an hour later. Alex feels Michael’s lips nibble along the sensitive shell of his ear. “Wh—whaaat? How long was I out? Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?”

Michael laughs. “Because we have the most inquisitive kid, who wouldn’t let me drone on about astrophysics as a means to bore him to sleep. Instead he thought it was a lesson and he kept asking questions. Dear god, what did we get ourselves into with him?” Michael rubs at his eyes. “He shouldn’t even be able to understand what I’m talking about, that didn’t keep him from asking questions, though.”

“Don’t look at me, I’m not the one with the genius brain who’s literally from another planet. He can’t have it from me,” Alex jokes. But Michael isn’t having any of it. “You’re the smartest man I know. You’ve hacked into NASA secret servers to get a blue print for me. There are very few people on this planet who’d be able to pull that off, and I’m certainly not one of them. He clearly has it from both of us, his current interest is just focused on asteroids and black holes.”

Alex pulls himself up into a sitting position. “Well, I feel quite refreshed and still very, very horny. What do you think about going to bed and working on those mind-blowing orgasms there? I just really want to fall asleep right after in your arms.”

Michael takes the blanket, folds it and puts it down on the couch. Then he offers Alex his hand and slowly pulls him into a standing position and into his arms. He presses his crotch against Alex’s, his dick already getting hard. “I’m very much up for your suggestion.”

~*~

Three weeks later, Alex returns home late after a meeting with a client that went on much longer than he would’ve preferred. The project will earn him a small fortune, though, so he didn’t feel like cutting things short. He takes off his jacket and washes his hands in the kitchen. He grabs a water bottle from the fridge and guzzles half of it down. The long drive back from Albuquerque’s made him thirsty, but he didn’t want to stop for water on his way home. When he hears voices coming from Matt’s room, he smiles.

Alex places the half-empty water bottle on the dining table on his way to Matt’s room. Matt and Michael look up from the book they’re reading (a story about the Milky Way) when he enters, and his heart grows at least five sizes in that moment. Matt may have his complexion and dark hair, but he has Michael’s curls and nose, and they look so much alike, Alex can barely handle the amount of love flooding him.

“Papa, Papa, you are back. I’ve missed you!” Matt scrambles up from the comfortable position in Michael’s lap to stand up, his arms reaching for Alex. When he’s close enough, Matt flings himself into Alex’s arms, and he’s glad that he expected this to happen, or else he might not have been able to catch Matt without stumbling.

He’s still grateful for the invisible force of Michael’s telekinesis steadying him. He keeps standing and holds Matt in his arms, while Matt tells him everything about the exciting day he had at kindergarten. Michael gets up from the bed and kisses Alex’s temple softly before he joins the family hug.

This, this is how Alex hopes it will always be. The three of them, a loving unit. Matt’s running out of things to tell eventually, that’s when Michael scoops him up in his arms. “Come on, buddy, your Papa had a really long day and he looks like he could use a break.” He turns to Alex. “Have you eaten yet?”

Alex shakes his head. “No, they served coffee and cookies during the meeting, but I could eat something more substantial. Like you said, it’s been a really long day, but I booked the job.” Michael’s face lights up. “Alex, that’s amazing. I knew you’d ace the meeting. I’m so proud of you!”

“I’m proud too, Papa,” Matt crows. Alex smiles. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll go to the kitchen and see what I can throw together real quick, I’m not really in the mood for cooking. Are you two good to do the bedtime routine on your own?”

Michael nods. “There’s leftover casserole in the fridge, ready to be warmed up. We’re almost finished here, I’ll join you when Matt’s asleep.” Michael leans forward and kisses Alex. Matt hooks his arms around Alex’s neck from his position and presses a wet kiss to Alex’s cheek. “Goodnight, dearest Papa. You did good today, I love you.”

Alex is ready to melt into a puddle right there and then. “Oh sweetheart, that means so much to me. Thank you. And I know you’ll be a good boy for Daddy and go to sleep without making a fuss now. Goodnight, sleep tight, and—“ “Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Matt finishes the sentence. He giggles. “Goodnight, Papa.”

Michael kisses Alex. “Go, eat, I’ll join you shortly. Love you.” Alex tousles Matt’s and Michael’s curls. “Love you both so much!” With that he turns around and leaves for the kitchen. The last thing he hears Matt ask is “Tell me about atoms, Daddy."

~*~

20 years later

It’s a beautiful and sunny day in Massachusetts when Matthew Norman Guerin, an athletic young man with a wide smile and unruly dark curls walks up to the podium at MIT to give this year’s graduation speech. He doesn’t have a script (he doesn’t need one, he’s memorized the speech days ago), but his eyes search the front row until his face lights up and he smiles.

There they are, his papa, Alex Guerin, a dark haired man with attractive graying temples, and his dad, Professor Michael Guerin, sporting honey golden curls that look so much like Matt’s. His parents are holding hands and look up to the podium with such love and pride in their eyes, Matt has to swallow around a huge lump in his throat.

He clears his throat. “Before I begin my speech, please allow me to tell you something about myself and the two extraordinary people who raised me. It all started about twenty years ago, when my dad would try to lull me to sleep by telling me fascinating details about space and the universe that should’ve gone way over my head. I was only three years old at the time, and yet there was something about the things he told me, that intrigued and excited me. Instead of falling asleep, I kept asking him questions for almost an hour, and he answered them all.”

Matt runs his hand through his hair, a gesture that is so typical Michael, Alex can’t help but smile. Matt continues. “Both my parents have always answered all my questions. And if they didn’t know the answer, we’d look for an answer online, or call my aunt Liz. My family instilled this huge hunger for knowledge in me, and the excitement to do research. I wouldn’t be standing here in front of you without them, and I certainly wouldn’t have been offered a job with the NASA Deep Space program, if it wasn’t for them.”

Out of the corner of his eyes, Alex notices the tears pooling in Michael’s eyes and he squeezes his hand. Michael squeezes back. “Dad, Papa, I’d like to thank you, for everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for always answering my questions, for giving me access to knowledge, for encouraging me to search for answers. I couldn’t have done most of what I’ve achieved in my life without your love and support. I love you.”

The crowd around Alex and Michael erupts into applause. They both have tears running down their faces now, but they don’t mind. This is such an important day, and their boy is up there, best of his class, a bright future ahead of him. Alex leans over and kisses Michael softly on the cheek.

Later, when all the speeches are over and every student has received their diploma, Matt finds his parents in the crowd. His entire family’s in attendance, his grandma, Liz and Max, Isobel and Greg, and all his cousins. But Matt only has eyes for his fathers. He walks up to them - he’s taller than both of them “he’s got that from me,” Greg likes to claim - and wraps his arms around their shoulders.

Alex and Michael close the circle by hugging each other, and for a long moment it’s only the three of them. “I love you, Dad and Papa. Thanks for everything,” Matt says in a hushed voice. “We love you, too, Matt. And we are so proud of you. Thanks for being the best son we could’ve possibly asked for,” Alex says. One final squeeze, and then Matt’s swept up in hugs and congratulations from the rest of the family.

Alex and Michael stay where they are, arms wrapped around each other. “His existence alone is an absolute miracle, a kid carrying both our genes, but this day is up in my top five moments for sure,” Alex says, keeping his voice low. This is for Michael’s ears only. Michael nods. “Yeah, I think our first time, our wedding, and his birth are higher up on my list of favorite memories, but today’s a great day for sure. We did an amazing job with him.”

“I’m so proud of him, and I’m proud of us, Michael. And I love you more than words can say. Thanks for going on this adventure called life and raising our son with me.” Michael smiles and pulls their clasped hand to his lips and kisses the back of Alex’s hand. “I love you, too,” he whispers. “And I have every intention to show you later in our hotel room.” Alex laughs. “You are impossible, Michael Guerin. But yes, please do, I’ll never get tired of you showing me all the million ways you love me.”

And with that, they join the others in celebrating their son.

#malex #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm fic #malex fic #my fic

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kinglazrus · 4 years

Text

The Haunting of Danny Fenton

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @ave-aria: Valerie Gray is Danny Fenton's Bodyguard AU (*can be Modern AU, Medieval AU, Corporate AU, Full Ghost AU, whatever)

Summary: Valerie knows Danny Fenton, everybody does. Youngest of the family, son and heir, future owner of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy. And, for the next week, he's the Red Huntress' newest client.

Chapter One: Local Tragedies

Word count: 1988 | [ffn] [ao3] | [next]

Valerie doesn't know what to expect of the Fentons. She knows about them, everyone does, but she's never met them. At least not face to face. The Fentons aren't just citizens of Amity Park, they're a feature of it, like the statue of the city's founder on Main Street, or the novelty billboard that welcomes people into town. Amity Park wouldn’t be the same without them.

They send her a town car. At this point in her career—which admittedly isn't that far—it's standard practice, at least when dealing with richer clients. The aggressively middle class can't afford the car. The lower class can't afford her, which is why she does those jobs for free. No point robbing good people of their money when the Amity elite already pay her extravagantly.

The Fentons aren't exactly the extravagant type, but they're nothing to scoff at, either. On the outside, the car looks fairly normal. Sleek, black, freshly polished and so clean she could probably eat off the hood. It pulls up to her office building, stopping right outside the front doors, snug to the curb.

Valerie doesn't wait for the driver to get out before opening the back door herself. She thinks it's such a ridiculous practice. Are rich people so needy they can't open a door for themselves? With a shake of her head, she picks up her suitcase and slides into the car. She freezes.

Inside, it's nothing like any town car she's been in before. It has the standard four seats, two against the back, two against the front, turned to face each other, but otherwise, it lacks all expected luxuries. Instead of plush leather, the seats are basic vinyl with neoprene covers on top. The carpet is stripped away, replaced with metal panels. Computer screens bearing the Fenton Works logo cover the windows on the left side of the car. The small drink stations Valerie has grown used to over the past couple years are gone. In their place stands a compact computer console on one side of the car and a fully stocked weapons' rack on the other.

Valerie stares at it all, mouth gaping shamelessly, wondering what all of this says about the Fentons themselves. Are they showy? Practical? The number of guns—she counts six—seems unnecessary. But, thinking of her own arsenal compacted into thick bracers on her wrists and cuffs on her ankles, she knows there's no such thing as too many guns when it comes to ghost hunting.

The partition separating the driver from the passengers goes down. The driver turns to face her, and Valerie's mouth falls open even wider. There's no mistaking that red beanie, those bulky half-moon glasses, the impossibly turquoise eyes.

"Tucker Foley?" Valerie exclaims.

"The one and only!" Tucker grins. Turning all the way around, he leans over the partition, elbows braced on the seats facing Valerie. "Haven't seen you since graduation. Feels like yesterday."

"It was two years ago."

Tucker sighs wistfully. "Yesterday."

"You work for the Fentons now? As their driver?" Valerie asks. She always thought Tucker would go big into technology development, coding, something like that. Or become a wanted cybercriminal.

"Me? A driver? And waste all these good looks? Please." Tucker scoffs and waves a hand dismissively. "I run the computer division at Fenton Works. When I heard Mr. and Mrs. F were hiring you, I just had to come get you myself."

"You're twenty," Valerie says.

"Hey, cool, you still know how to count. That's a great skill."

"You're twenty, and you're running a whole division at Fenton Works?"

"You're twenty and you have your own security company," he points out.

"One person company.

"One person division." Tucker grins. "It's really just me and my computer. Cyber security against ghosts isn't a big field yet."

Valerie eyes Tucker, unsure how to respond. Whatever she expected, Tucker wasn't it. Now, she feels off-balance, like she's missing something important, and she hates that feeling. It shouldn't matter that much. Amity Park isn't a huge city; the chances of her running into a former classmate are rather high. But Tucker was prepared for Valerie, and she wasn't prepared for him. Childishly, she feels like she's at a disadvantage. Which is ridiculous because she's here to fight ghosts, not Tucker. But his sudden appearance has disarmed her so completely that, if a ghost were to attack right then, she would be too stunned to react.

"You should see the look on your face," Tucker says.

Valerie purses her lips and scowls, wiping away whatever amusing expression has Tucker giggling under his breath. "You should drive."

Tucker's laugh balloons into gleeful cackles as he turns back around. "Whatever you want, Ms. Grey!"

Valerie, fuming, slams her thumb on the partition button, rolling it back up. To her annoyance, she can still hear Tucker's infuriating laugh through the glass.

—

When Valerie says the Fentons are a feature of Amity Park, she really means their laboratory, Fenton Works. Don't get her wrong, Maddie and Jack Fenton are a sight all on their own. On any given day, they can be seen tearing down the street in their bulky weaponized RV, guns blazing, wearing their brightly coloured jumpsuits. Seeing them for the first time is quite the experience. You can easily spot nearby tourists by checking people's reactions to the Fentons.

But Fenton Works. Fenton Works is a monolith dedicated to every crackpot idea the Fentons have ever had. When Valerie was in high school, Fenton Works was a single townhouse standing proudly at the corner of Lady and Red, bearing an obnoxiously neon sign. Above it loomed a massive saucer-shaped structure covered in more satellites than the local news station. Back then, Valerie thought the townhouse was a leering giant. Nowadays, it's dwarfed by the massive warehouse that takes up the rest of the block.

"Damn," Valerie whispers, peering out the righthand window as they turns onto Lady Avenue.

Tucker lowers the partition. "Pretty cool, right?"

Valerie eyes the mural of ghosts decorating the side of the building. "It's something."

Rather than stopping in front of the townhouse, Tucker turns onto Red Crescent and loops around to the back of the facility. Along the avenue, the warehouse is built almost right up to the sidewalk. On this side, however, there's a wide parking lot and, oddly enough, a lush garden surrounding a pond.

"I'm not the only one who thinks that looks weird, right?" She points to the pond.

Tucker cranes his neck, following her finger, and chuckles. "Jazz asked her parents to put that in so that employees have somewhere 'calming' to go. There's a greenhouse up on the roof, too,"

Pressing her cheek to the window, Valerie tries to spot the aforementioned greenhouse, but they're too close to the building now for her to see it.

Tucker pulls into a reserved parking spot just across from the homely picket fence that surrounds the townhouse's backyard. Valerie officially has no idea what to think about the Fentons.

"Come on," Tucker says, throwing open his door. "Everyone's waiting for you."

Valerie grabs her suitcase and climbs out of the car, nudging the door shut behind her. "Everyone?" She looks over the car at Tucker.

He twirls the keychain around his finger. "You'll see."

Valerie expects him to head for the townhouse but, to her surprise, he pivots right and starts walking to the warehouse doors.

"Come on," he calls over his shoulder.

Valerie jogs after him, easily hoisting her suitcase in one hand, and ponders on what the inside the facility looks like. Crates of weapons stacked one on top of the other. An arsenal of ghost hunting vehicles, everything from their patented RV design to their one of a kind all-terrain bus. All-terrain meaning it flies in the human realm and the Ghost Zone. The ground can't stop you if you never touch it. She pictures an honest to god warehouse and prepares herself for exactly that sight when they reach the front doors.

The moment they go inside, however, Valerie promptly decides to never assume anything about the Fentons and how they operate ever again.

"Something wrong?" Tucker asks when he sees Valerie stuck in the doorway.

"No," she says honestly. "It's fine." She steps into the foyer, complete with a receptionist's desk, comfortable armchairs for waiting, and a few potted plants. Looking behind her, she sees floor to ceiling windows looking out onto the pond. Valerie could have sworn the walls were solid from the outside.

"Hey, Octavia." Tucker waves to the receptionist. Pulling a lanyard out of his pocket, he shows her an employee ID card. "I've got the nine o'clock."

"It's four in the afternoon," Octavia, a modest middle-aged woman, says without looking up from her computer.

"Time is relative. Val." Valerie stops gawking at the room and looks to Tucker. "You can leave your suitcase here, unless you need anything from it. Octavia can take it to the guest room."

"I can, but I won't," Octavia says. "They're in the Boom Room."

"Love you too, babe." Tucker clicks his tongue, shooting Octavia double finger-guns, and ducks through a doorway at the back of the room.

Valerie stands awkwardly in the middle of the foyer.

Octavia finally raises her head, giving Valerie a critical look. After a moment, she sighs and holds out her hand. "I'll take your bag. Trust me, Tucker'll be halfway across the building if you don't follow him now. That kid never looks back."

"Thank you." Valerie rushes over, passing her bag across the desk, and follows Tucker. On the other side of the door is a long plain hallway. She looks right, then left, but there's no sign of Tucker. She debates her chances of choosing a random direction and finding him by pure luck. Before she can decide, a long ding rings out. The noise draws her attention to a set of elevators down the hall on her left.

The doors open. Tucker pokes his head out. "Hurry up, slowpoke.

Valerie wonders if punching Tucker in the face will affect her paycheque. Just once. Just a small jab. She won't even break his nose. In the end, she decides not to risk it, settling on a fierce glare as she reaches the elevator.

"This is a big place, you don't want to get lost," Tucker says.

"Then don't leave me behind."

"Not my fault you're slow." Tucker hits the button for the third floor—third out of five.

What on Earth the Fentons need all this space for, Valerie has no idea. She tries to picture it, then remembers how her expectations keep getting smashed to pieces and thinks better of it. There will be lots of time to find out.

"Why Fenton Works?" Valerie asks, filling the silence.

Tucker rocks back on his heels and hums. "Ghost stuff is kind of cool. I get to pioneer a whole new area of cyber security that no one even realizes we need, and I'm not even done college yet. Working here helps me pay for my online classes, too, so I don't even have to leave Amity."

"Why? Sounds like you'd still have a job waiting for you when you graduate." She can't imagine Tucker spilling his cyber secrets to someone else before he can cultivate the field himself. Surely, then, the Fentons would need him on board, no matter how long he puts off working for them.

"Yeah," Tucker nods, "I would. But I'm staying for Danny."

The elevator chimes when they reach the third floor, the doors sliding open. Tucker glides through them without looking back, but Valerie hesitates once again. Danny—Daniel Fenton. She knows Daniel Fenton. Youngest of the lot, son and heir, future CEO of Fenton Works. Notable for all those reasons and infamous for none of them. Where Maddie and Jack are the local quirks, Danny is the tragedy.

#thdf #phic phight #phic phight 2020 #danny phantom #phanfic #phic #danny phantom fanfiction #valerie gray #bodyguard au #tumblroneshots #except it's not a oneshot

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whelmedtobehere · 4 years

Link

Chapter 1: Good Night, Elephant

For about the hundredth time in the past couple of weeks Dick was questioning his decision to make Damian Robin. He had enjoyed the nanosecond reprieve from Damians angry complaints while he had zeta’d from the cave to the basement. No sooner had they both appeared than Damian continued his rant where he had left off.

“What exactly is the point of locking these degenerates in facilities they will either escape or be released from to continue their illegal activities exactly where they left off? You should have just let me finish him - if you are too weak to do what needs to be done yourself.” Damian's green eyes narrowed in defiance and he pointed an accusatory finger up at him. Despite having already changed out of his Robin uniform back at the cave, instead wearing slacks and a black turtleneck, he still managed to look fairly intimidating - for a ten-year old.

Dick resisted the urge to sigh or run his hand through his hair, though his fingers twitched at his side. Damian needed to respect him so he couldn’t let him see any sign of exhaustion or just how much his new responsibilities weighed down on him. “It’s not weakness Damian. Batman doesn’t kill and neither does Robin.” Damian opened his mouth but Dick cut him off before he could protest further. “Look, I can’t make you share the convictions of your father and I, but if you’re going to be Robin you have to listen to Batman. Not killing is the number one rule, but you also have to listen to my instructions in the field.”

Damian lifted his head up, stood up straighter and lifted his shoulder’s back in an attempt to match Dick’s height, but since he only came up to his chest he was still sorely lacking. “You’re not Batman and I don’t know why I should listen to somebody whose skills are clearly inferior to my father’s. I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions out in the field.”

“You’re decisions,” And as much he was trying not to let it some of his frustration and irritation leaked out into his voice, turning his words into a biting rebuke. “Almost got several civilians killed. Go upstairs and get ready for bed Damian.” He said to cut off any more protests. “It’s late. We can discuss this more tomorrow.”

“Fine.” Damian scowled but with a sharp turn of the heel disappeared through the elevator that led from the basement to their otherwise ordinary four bedroom home above. Across from the zeta platform, sitting in front of a table with several screens and the most advanced processors and hard drives, was the hero known to the superhero community as Oracle. When not in uniform, Dick affectionately referred to as Babs, Barb, or ‘my wife’.

She angled her chair out from the table in order to face him. “Bad night huh?”

Dick walked over and hopped up onto an empty part of the table in front of her. “It honestly went fine for most of it. It wasn’t until near the end when a hostage situation got out of hand.”

She hummed an acknowledgement and rolled a bit closer to take his hand in hers. He flipped his hand over, so hers was on top and studied the back of her hand. He always thought “I know it like the back of my hand” was a strange phrase. How well did someone know the back of their hand? And what was there to know about the back of a hand? Was it vastly different from the back of any other hand? He still stood by the first part, he didn’t know his own hand particularly well, but he knew Barb’s hand well enough he could distinguish it out of a line up. He knew this hand, the way it looked and felt in his own as well as almost anything. Of course that might not be saying much, as he had felt less knowledgeable and more out of his depth in this past month and a half than he had at least since his parents died - if ever at all.

“The cape is still too heavy.”

“I’ll look into it tomorrow. Try to brainstorm some better materials.” She squeezed his hand. “It will get lighter.” She added and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the cape.

Dick slid off the counter and onto his knees, leaning forward to kiss Barbara. He pulled back from the kiss but leaned his forehead against hers. one hand still in her hair. “What would I do without you Barb?”

“You’d be dead already I’m sure.” Barbara teased leaning forward for another brief kiss. Dick stood up and turned around standing to the side of Barbara with his hand on her shoulder. Each of her multiple screens were monitoring several situations and off to the side of the far-left screen was a video monitor of a sleeping child.

“How’s she been?”

“Good. Hasn’t woken up.”

“Okay. I’m going to go check on her.”

Barbara hummed an acknowledgement. “I’ll be up in about thirty minutes.” Dick raised an eyebrow. “Forty-five,” she amended. Dick shook his head, knowing it would probably be closer to an hour and took the elevator up to the house above. As he stepped out the elevator doors, the automated wall closed off behind him leaving him in an ordinary looking home office that Barb used for her day job - running a hugely successful cyber security company. There were books and papers spread out on her desk and a stuffed pink bunny peeking out from behind a couple books on the bookshelf across from her desk. Dick stooped down to pick it up and walked out of the room and down the hall. As he passed Damian’s room he could see light seeping out from under the door. He didn’t open the door but pressed up against it, talking loud enough to be heard.

“It’s been a long day. Try to get to sleep in the next half hour or so okay?”

He heard a faint but familiar “TT.” Since he didn’t feel like getting into an argument, he chose to interpret it as a sound of acquiescence and moved on. He quietly opened the door at the end of the hall and just managed to avoid stepping on some building blocks in the dark. He set the rabbit on top of the toy chest in between the stuffed lamb and a Wonder Woman plushie. He walked over to the bed to check on Jessica, expecting her to be asleep but instead her eyes were wide open as she lay on her side and stroked her stuffed elephant, whispering unintelligibly to it. As soon as she looked up and saw him she was standing up and jumping off the bed. She was pretty fast for a two year old, but obviously not faster than him and he smoothly caught her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head against his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” He spoke softly as he swayed a bit from side to side and rubbed her back.

“Story.” She whispered back.

“I already read you a story before you went to bed. Now it's sleepy time.”

“No.” Her protest was accompanied by a yawn.

Dick smiled. “I think so.” He put her back on the bed and kissed her head. “I love you. Now go to sleep.” Then he sat at her feet and rubbed her back as she drifted off to sleep. Though his concerns and grief were still present he felt considerably more at peace than he had just a few minutes ago.

In the room he’d been assigned at the Grayson’s residence, Damian unscrewed the cover off the vent by his bed and retrieved the encrypted phone he’d hidden there. It contained one unnamed contact. He started typing. “Father is dead. Surely there is no need for me to be here any longer. I can’t learn anything from this counterfeit Batman.” He stared at it for a moment before deleting it. Surely his mother knew and would come for him soon. She didn’t need to be reminded. He could endure the pretender and his weak family for a bit longer.

#dick grayson #damian wayne #barbara gordon #fanfiction #mine #my first attempt at a multichapter fic #this is an idea i've had for a while #excited to see where it goes

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delicatelyherdreams · 6 years

Text

Teardrops on Lashes (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After New York, you moved to Bucharest to get away from the superhero stuff. You simply wanted an uneventful, ordinary life. But when a stranger moves into the apartment next to yours, you begin to question those aspirations and choose to risk it all for love.

Warnings: Mild Language; baking fluff

Word Count: 4052

Teardrops on Lashes Masterlist

Previous: Part 2

Next: Part 4

After the longest day of work you had ever experienced, you found yourself at the bike store to look for a replacement for the one that had gotten stolen. The price tags made your head spin. Since when did bikes get so damn expensive? When you bought your old bike it was a little less than a hundred dollars and now they were running a little over three hundred.

Looks like you’d be walking everywhere for a while.

You thanked the sales associate for helping you before leaving the shop.

The busy streets of Bucharest were packed with people on the sidewalks and maneuvering around the street vendors that were selling various goods. The chatter of the people having their own conversations filed into a buzz in the background that made the walk back to your apartment feel much quicker than it actually was.

As you rounded the last corner to get to your building, you stopped dead in your tracks when the last thing you ever expected to see was sitting right outside your apartment building.

Parked outside and chained to the bike rack was your bike. The (f/c) bike you had bought all those years ago was sitting there like it had never left. The only thing that was different was a white slip of paper taped to the handle bars.

You ran over to the bike and peeled off the note. In James’s handwriting, you read, “I found your bike :) I think that earns me a pie.”

You barked a laugh. How in the hell had he found your bike? It was stolen for crying out loud! You looked down at the chain to see a pretty good combination lock holding it to the rack. Well, time to go figure out what your new combination was.

You entered the building and began to scale the stares to the ninth floor. You propelled yourself onto the landing and made your way to James's door. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the wood.

There was a small scuffling before the door slowly opened. His eyes peeked out of the door suspiciously, and when they saw your face, they visibly softened. "(y/n)," he said in a simple greeting and opened the door wider.

You looked at him. "How did you get my bike back? Where was it? How did you even know it was mine?" you asked in a shotgun style, firing one question after another without giving him a second to answer.

James patiently waited for a pause in your rambling before he responded. “First, I saw it outside the building when I first brought my stuff up, and when it went missing and you were upset, I put two and two together and guessed it was yours. It’s good to see that my observations skills have yet to let me down.” He paused and leaned against the door frame. “Second: I saw some scumbag trying to sell it in the market and took it back.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You stared at him. “That’s it? You just took it back?”

“Yeah, what else was I going to do? I locked it up for you too, so that way it wouldn't get taken again. The code is 147.”

You blinked. “W-Wow, I, uh, I don’t know how to thank you,” you stammered.

He smirked. “I could use another one of those plum pies. The last one barely lasted twelve hours.”

You pursed your lips. “Really? C’mon, even my neighbor’s three kids have more self control than that,” you said with a laugh.

“Hey, plums are my favorite,” he said holding his hands up in defense. “And that pie was amazing.”

“Well, unfortunately for you,” you started, glancing down at your shoes, “I’m out of food money for the month and I have no more ingredients for it.”

“Well lucky for both of us, I have some extra money.” James gave you a smile.

The sight made your heart flutter. This had to be the first time you saw him truly smile.

“Oh really? Then I guess I have no reason not to make you a pie.” You paused, looking down at your work attire. “Give me a second to get changed and then we can go shopping. Then I’ll teach you to make it so you can have it whenever you want.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you walked the couple of steps to your apartment. “Be back in a bit.” You quickly unlocked the door and slipped in.

James stood in his doorway, slightly taken aback by your promise of teaching him to make your pie. He had been expecting you to just agree, take his money, and do it all by yourself. He had not been expecting youto instigate something that would lead you both into spending the whole afternoon together. He had known he was taking a risk making steps to get closer to you, but there was just something about you that intrigued him. He found himself waiting out in the hallway for you to come back out, anxiously clenching and unclenching his fists.

What was he doing? He moved here to get away from HYDRA, or SHIELD, or whatever government organization that would hunt him down to fill their own agendas. “Completely off the grid,” is what he had told himself when he decided to rent his dingy old apartment. “Leave no trace,” is what he had made himself promise. So why was he waiting to go grocery shopping with his neighbor whom he had known all of one day?

The logical side of him was saying to just go back inside and finish the emergency exit supplies. Pretend he got sick or something and never talk to you again. Disappear off her radar. After all, being around him would only get you hurt.

The human side of him, however, was trying to coax him out of his cold shell. “This is what we wanted. A fresh start,” it said. You didn’t know him or what he had done before Bucharest. You didn’t know Bucky or the Winter Soldier and so you didn’t expect anything from him. You only knew James, the quiet new neighbor with a love of plums.

A small smile crossed his lips. Maybe that’s all he needed.

Meanwhile, you were dashing around your apartment in a frenzy as you undressed, dressed, undressed again, and once more got dressed. No outfit seemed cool or casual enough to go out to buy things with James. You wanted to make a good impression on him, and seeing as how the first thing he saw you in was covered with flour and the second was your uniform, you weren’t doing so hot. You rummaged through your closet looking for a decent shirt with minimal holes. “Come on, (y/n), keep it together. You’re going shopping, not to the met.” Finally you settled on a plain orange v-neck, a pair of skinny jeans, and some fuzzy boots. You threw your hair up into a messy bun and quickly exited back out into the hallway. “Phew, sorry about that. I just had to get out of that skirt,” you said locking the door once more.

James’s eyes snapped towards yours. “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he quickly replied. “I was okay with waiting.”

“Still,” you shoved your keys into your pocket. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.” You shot him a grin and jerked your head towards the stairs. “Now come on, this pie won’t make itself.”

He stepped back from the stairs. “After you.”

You smiled. “Such a gentleman,” you teased and took the stairs first.

As you reached the main floor, James turned his gaze to you. “Do we need my bike again?”

“Oh, no. The store isn’t too far away from here,” you said walking down the sidewalk. “It’s only three blocks... I think. I can never remember just how much distance it is. It’s about a six minute walk though.”

He paused as if doing the math in his head. “So yeah, about three to four blocks. Huh, it’ll be nice to have a grocery store so close to home," he remarked as you started to lead him in the direction of the store.

“Oh it is. Especially when you’re craving ice cream,” you admitted with a laugh.

He smiled. “Wouldn’t want it to melt.”

You nodded with a smile.

James glanced over at you before walking behind you to your other side so you were stationed on his right side. At your puzzled look he just shrugged. “Habit. I prefer people on my right.”

Okay, little strange, but you weren’t one to argue. After all, you had your own little quirks as well.

As the both of you walked down the street, you looked up at James. “So did you end up finding a job?” you asked curiously.

He nodded. “Yeah. The moving company on thirty first street needed some extra hands. So I’ll be working there moving people in and out of houses or apartments.”

“Oh, movers,” you said with a chuckle. “They saved my life when I first got here. There was no way I could’ve moved my bed all the way to the ninth floor.”

“We are helpful,” he admitted. “And they already gave me a bonus, which I’ll be using to get pie ingredients.”

“Oh well lucky you.” You shook your head with a laugh.

The two of you rounded a corner for the final stretch to the store.

“So, Cyrotechnics?” he asked. “What do you do there?”

“Cyber security and programming,” you answered. “I basically hack our site over and over again and build software to protect it from people who would do the same thing.”

“So you’re good with computers?”

You nodded your head. “In a way. I’m much better at hacking. If you ever need to hack into government secrets, I’m your gal.”

James bit his lip to hide a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

After walking a few yards, you pulled up to the grocery store.

“Okay, we’re going to need flour, sugar, butter, and salt for the crust and cover, and for the filling we need lemon juice, nutmeg, sugar, flour, salt and cinnamon,” you rattled off. The recipe, thankfully was committed to memory after making it so many times.

He frowned as he grabbed a basket. “What about the plums?”

“Don’t worry, we get those last,” you reassured. “Now come on.”

Up and down the aisles you both walked, throwing in the ingredients you needed.

James pulled the cinnamon off the shelf and looked at its price. “Just how much are these things?”

“For a decent pie, roughly ten to fifteen dollars total. For an excellent pie, it might cost you an arm,” you said teasingly. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you buy the most expensive things for a pie. I’m not that evil.”

“Mhmm, well I appreciate it. I don’t have any more arms to spare.”

“I don’t think any of us do,” you said shoving the flour into the basket. “Alright, that should be everything.”

“Alright, now for the plums,” he said walking towards the produce section.

“Ah, James!” you called to stop him. “We don’t get those here.”

He frowned. “Is there another grocery store somewhere?”

You bobbed your head. “Something like that.” You led him over to the check out aisles.

He pulled out his wallet as you loaded up the conveyor belt.

The cashier told him something in Romanian. You only caught a few words like “pie” and “hot,” but it must have been something pleasant because James gave her a small smile. You noticed, however, that it wasn’t like the few he had given you before. This smile didn’t quite reach those gorgeous eyes of his like they did for you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him as you grabbed the bagged goods. “What was that all about?”

“Oh, she just told me that it’s too hot out to be making a warm pie. I don’t really care though, not when it involves your pie."

You smiled slightly. "Good, then you won't mind taking some of the bags?" you asked holding out the one with the heavier ingredients in it.

James cracked a grin. "I guess not." He took the bag and continued to follow you as you exited the store. "So where do we get these plums?"

"The market," you answered. "There's a plum cart run by an older lady named Lucinda and she grows the best plums for pies. Not too hard but not too soft and easy to get the pit out of."

The market was a small walk away, maybe only a minute or two, and, like always, it was bustling with people running their daily errands.

James stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the large crowd of people. His left hand clenched tightly and his lips formed a thin line.

You looked over your shoulder when his presence disappeared from your side. A concerned frown covered your lips. “James, you alright?”

He took a few moments to respond. “Y-Yeah, fine.”

He wasn’t fine. He didn’t look fine by a long shot, and you sure as hell noticed. You swiveled your head in between him and the crowd of people in front of you before it finally dawned on you that he could have crowd anxiety. Instead of encouraging him to follow you, you dug into your pocket and fished out your keys. “Here,” you said tossing them to him. “Head back and preheat the oven for me?” you asked sweetly.

He caught the keys in his right hand. “Y-You trust me to go back to your apartment alone? You don’t think I’ll rob you or anything?”

You shrugged. “There’s really nothing of material value in there. And besides, you’ve never given me any reason not to trust you and I kinda know where you live.” You shot a teasing grin his way. “Go on, I won’t be long, and it’ll get done that much faster if we divide and conquer, right?”

He paused to consider it before nodding his head. “I’ll see you back there then...”

“Just don’t burn the place down!” you called out to him as he began to retreat.

His shoulders shook slightly with a bout of silent laughter. “I won’t!” he called back.

You settled back onto your heels as you watched him walk away. The smile on your face slowly melted away as he disappeared from sight. You wondered what had happened to him to make him nervous around crowds, but it wasn’t your place to pry or ask. After you couldn’t see him anymore you turned and plunged into the crowd.

Familiar street vendors waved at you from their carts and shouted greetings.

In return you did the same as you walked to Lucinda’s plum cart.

The old lady was sitting in the shade of her awning knitting a pair of electric blue socks. She looked up with a bright grin when she saw you approach. “(y/n)! What a lovely surprise! Making another pie?”

“Always am, it seems,” you responded with an exasperated sigh. “Got any good ones?”

She gave you a knowing smile. “Check the left bin towards the top right,” she said in a low voice.

You did as she suggested and sure enough, when you felt the plums, they were perfectly ripe and just right for the pie you were going to make. You picked up one of the grocery sacks she provided and began to fill it with at least a dozen of the most perfect plums you could find. “Alright, I have thirteen plums. How much?” you asked for what seemed to be the millionth time.

Lucinda had to constantly change the prices from day to day depending on how many people were buying. She, like everyone else in the world, had to make ends meet and the plums were really her only source of real income since she refused to use her husband’s life insurance unless she desperately had to.

She pressed her lips together thoughtfully. “Well, we are having a good day, so your total’ll be seven *leu.”

Thank god you never left the apartment with anything less than twenty because you had forgotten to ask James for some money to buy the plums. You pulled a couple of bills from your pocket and handed them to her. “Thanks again, Lucinda!” you called as you tied up the bag.

“Anytime, (y/n). Any time.” She gave you a lazy smile before returning to her knitting.

You took your bag and began to speed walk the couple blocks back to your apartment. Once there, you climbed the stairs two at a time to the ninth floor. Your door was already open a crack and you heard the small clatter of feet and metal on metal behind the door.

You smiled softly and pushed the door open. “I got the plums!”

James jumped at the sound of your voice and turned to face you faster than you could blink brandishing one of your knives as a makeshift weapon. His eyes were hard and fierce in a way you had never seen them before. When he saw you, he lowered the knife. “Holy crap, (y/n), you scared the daylight out of me,” he said putting it down on the counter.

You closed the door behind you. “Sorry, the door was open so I just thought you were expecting me.”

He shook his head. “I was, just not so soon.” He rested his hands, which were still gloved, on the counter and hung his head. His long hair fell forward and covered his face. “I couldn’t figure out how to work your oven,” he admitted with a weak laugh.

Walking behind him, you quickly pressed a couple buttons to get it started and set the plums on the counter. “Don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile. You swiped your baking outfit from the oven’s handle and tied it on over your clothes. “Anyways, now that we have everything, we can get started.” You glanced down at his hands. “You might want to take off your gloves. We’re going to be working with a lot of flour and I’d hate for you to get them all dirty.”

He clenched his left hand into a fist. “Ah, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather keep them on,” he said coldly. “I don’t care about the flour.”

You hesitated before nodding your head. “Alright. You’ll be on filling duty then.” You handed him the grocery bag of plums. “Go ahead and slice enough of these to make four cups.” You pulled a chair from your dining room set over and mounted it. Balancing to counteract its wobbliness, you opened the top cabinet and pulled out your large and small mixing bowls. “Then sprinkle it with about a tablespoon of the lemon juice. It’s okay if you’re a little off. Then after those are done, you’re going to want to mix together a half cup of sugar, maybe a bit more if you like yours sweeter, a fourth cup of flour, and a fourth teaspoon of salt and cinnamon. Once you’ve got those all mixed...” you continued to rattle off instructions to him as you pulled out the things to make the crust. When you had finished you looked at him to make sure he was still with you. “Got it?”

He stared at you dumbstruck. “How the hell do you have this all committed to memory?”

You shrugged with a grin. “My best friend has three kids who love this thing. I’ve made it for nearly every birthday in lieu of a cake. After the twelfth time, you learn you don’t need the recipe card anymore.”

The laugh that came from his mouth made butterflies erupt in your stomach. You wanted to make him laugh again it was that amazing.

“I can see that. I think I’ll be good for now and if I start to screw up you can correct me.” He smirked as he pulled one of your sharper knives from the knife block.

You pulled some measuring cups from a drawer. “You bet your ass I will. You will not defile my glorious pie with your inability to follow directions,” you said waving the teaspoon at his face.

He picked up the cup and began to slice the plums into it. “I’ll do my best.”

The two of you worked side by side, methodically helping each other out when necessary.

James actually wasn’t half bad with the filling. He cut the plums with expert hands that seemed to know exactly how to work the knife. He must have been a chef or something wherever he was before here. He kept up with your instructions and finished the filling in half the time it would normally take you to do it. Impressed with his speed, you tasked him with making the topping while you finished the crust.

All the while you two talked about random things: favorite foods and colors, which was better, cats or dogs, and yourselves. You found out that he had left America for a reason similar to yours, but instead of getting away from super heroes he was trying to get away from his past. He didn’t go into any detail about said past but you understood that whatever it was had to be really bad if it drove him halfway across the world where he knew absolutely no one. From there the two of you talked about future plans. You wanted to someday move out of the apartment and settle down to build a family and he just wanted stability. He said he had been searching for a place to settle down for a year, and was hoping that this place was good enough to stay for a good amount of time. He didn’t sound too optimistic about it though. You tried to tell him it would be okay but he just brushed you off saying, “Whatever’s gonna happen will happen, I just have to deal with it.”

Finally you finished your crust and it came time to assemble the pie. You had him pour the filling while you finished off the topping. After the filling was set, you crumbled the topping over it and stuck it in the oven. “Now we wait an hour,” you concluded as you untied your apron.

James bent down and looked through the glass at the pie. “That’s actually not as complicated as I thought it’d be.”

“Right?” You looped the apron back through the handle. “I’ll make you a copy of the recipe card so you can have it whenever.”

His smile faltered a bit. “I’ll never make it right.”

“Nonsense. You did half of this one and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” You bent down next to him and peered in. “See? It looks just like how it normally does.”

“Looking the same and tasting the same are two very different things,” he pointed out.

You shrugged. “You’ll figure it out. I can’t keep making pies for you otherwise I’ll have to start charging for my services.”

“And if I’m willing to pay?” he asked raising an eyebrow as he turned his head slightly towards you.

“I’ll consider it,” you answered quietly. “C’mon.” You stood up fully and walked over to your couch. “I’ve got Netflix so we can watch whatever you want for an hour while we wait.” You plopped down on the right side.

James smiled and joined you sitting on your left. “Alright.”

He chose an older comedy but in truth neither of you really watched it. Instead, like before, you carried out a conversation, talking about whatever came to mind. The hour passed quicker than either of you realized and the timer on the oven going off made the both of you jump in your seats. After the pie had cooled, you both agreed on sharing a slice to test its taste. Much to your delight, you found that it had to be one of the best pies you had ever made.

*leu: Romanian Currency; 1 leu is equivalent to about 0.25 USD

Teardrops on Lashes Taglist: @fuckthatfeeling

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #reader #bucharest #sokovia accords #marvel #series #mcu #mcu stories #bucky is not a villain #bucky is the best #love #dont go #plums for bucky #plums

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sun-writer-blog · 6 years

Text

PJO Buddy Cop AU

This is a repost from something I wrote a while ago. I deleted that old blog because of some crazy stuff that went down, but (hopefully) i can post some of those fanfics again onto this one.

Here ya go! All comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated.

“Whatever it is, Chief, it was probably Leo.”

Reyna rolled her eyes at Percy Jackson, who she had just called to her office. To be fair, Percy was usually reprimanded whenever he was summoned to the “Chief’s Lair,” as he and Grover had aptly titled it, so his greeting was not unusual. What was unusual, however, was the blonde-haired young man sitting across from Reyna. The Chief gestured to the open seat beside him. “Sit down, Percy.”

Percy stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. The guy looked seriously muscled, like a blonde Superman. He turned back to Reyna. “Who’s Clark Kent?”

The young man coughed, adjusting his glasses as he glanced up at Reyna, who folded her hands on her lap. “This is Jason Grace, your new partner” She explained. “Take a seat.”

Jason stood up with a warm smile and held out his hand towards Percy. Percy reluctantly shook it before sitting down beside his new partner. Since Grover had left, Percy figured someone would be assigned to him. He just didn’t recognize Jason from anywhere. “Mr. Grace is a transfer” Reyna started, obviously sensing Percy’s hesitation. “He did a couple of years in SWAT, and now he’s working as a detective.”

Percy groaned, leaning forward. “You paired me up with a rookie?”

“Make a good impression, will you?” Reyna smirked, shuffling through some paperwork. Percy began to protest, but she held up a hand to silence him. “Enough. Learn to play with others.” He slumped back in his chair, defeated. “Now, I have a new case for you both. Robbery at the museum. Looks like a few expensive things were taken. Should be open and shut, just ask a couple of questions and write a report.” She closed an orange folder and pushed it towards Percy and Jason, the latter of which began studying the contents. Percy huffed indignantly and stood up to take his leave.

“Anything else, your majesty?”

Reyna narrowed her eyes and leaned back in her leather chair. “I’d say don’t cause any trouble while you’re out there, but that might be too much to ask.”

“Chief, it says here that all the security systems were knocked offline between 6:45 and 6:50 in the morning” Jason started, pursing his lips while he read over the file. “Who should we talk to in this department that’s good with cybersecurity?”

Reyna blinked and smiled. “See, Percy, that’s how you should be acting. Excited to start a case!”

Percy scoffed and glanced at Jason. “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed? No thanks.” Jason blushed and scratched his head, rising from his chair and tucking the file under his arm. “We’ll go talk to Leo.”

Reyna nodded her approval as Percy tapped on the door frame on his way out. “Don’t cause any trouble!” She repeated as the two of them exited.

When Jason requested a transfer to detective work, he had expected his partner to be some old guy with a fedora and trench coat who would mentor him.

Percy Jackson was certainly not that guy. Instead of a cigar or pipe he pulled out a stick of gum and folded the wrapper into a small airplane as he spoke to Jason. “Did you get a tour yet?” he asked.

“I just showed up last night, actually. Still have to unpack at my apartment.”

Percy took the opportunity to show Jason around. “Well, we’re going to the break room, which is where you can usually find me and-or Leo. Leo is a cyber-detective, so he usually stays in the building.” Percy chuckled, pushing open the door to the break-room. “And there he is now.”

In the back of the room a short, young man with curly black hair and tan skin was attempting to brew coffee. He muttered a curse before smashing his hand on the Keurig machine, which promptly retaliated by spewing black coffee and hot water all over the table it was on. He yelped in surprise and unplugged the machine, but not before it burst into flames. Percy swiftly grabbed the nearest fire extinguisher and sprayed both the man and the machine.

Jason watched all this from the doorframe. The blob of foam spat and rubbed his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” he insisted. Percy sprayed him with the fire extinguisher directly in the chest in response. The man groaned and wiped off his hands on his khaki pants and turned towards Jason. “You’re an eyewitness. I totally didn’t start that fire.”

Jason held up his hands. “I didn’t see anything.”

“Exactly. I like him.” He declared decidedly, strolling over the length of the room and drying his hands with a rag before shaking Jason’s. “Detective Leo Valdez, certified tech-guru and eligible bachelor.” Jason blinked and Percy scoffed pointedly.

“Don’t get excited, he says that to everyone.” Percy explained. Leo shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey, what can I say, they don’t call me Hot Stuff for nothing.”

Percy crossed his arms. “They do that because you have a tendency to blow things up.”

“I do not!” Leo protested. Percy pointed to the Keurig, which whimpered in the corner of the room as if on cue. “Hey, that thing attacked me. I call profiling.”

“I’ll make sure to report it to the company, Leo. Can you help us with a case?” Percy questioned. Leo raised an eyebrow curiously.

Jason took the lead then, adjusting his navy blue NYPD rain jacket. “Someone was able to turn off power to the security systems of one building. Do you know how that could be done?” Leo thought for a second, scrounging through the various shelves and cupboards in the break room.

“It could be done externally, but that would involve some high level clearance at the Energy Plant. It would be way easier if the guy was on the inside and turned off the security systems himself or deleted the footage.” He paused at the refrigerator and pulled out a greek yogurt with a yellow post-it-note attached. “’Do not eat. Leo, that means you.’ Jeez, am I the only one that eats Piper’s food?”

From the doorway, a voice called “Yes” and slid past Jason. The woman wore suit pants and black flats, with a bright orange dress shirt that Jason couldn’t help but notice complimented her almond-toned skin. She smiled at Percy, who narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Leo, are you helping the enemy?”

Leo glanced between Percy and Piper. “Oh mommy, please don’t make me pick between the two of you.”

“Too late, you’re on my team because you’re my partner, Leo. No fraternization during war.” She glanced past Leo and noticed the dying Keurig machine, and groaned before shaking her head. “I don’t even wanna know what happened, do I?”

Percy cracked a smile and put his arm around Jason’s shoulders. “Oh, I’ll tell you anyway. Your brilliant partner lit the coffee machine on fire. Meanwhile I have been assigned the most competent man in the whole department as my new partner, and he’s definitely going to help me win the prank war.”

Piper sized Jason up. “Most competent man in the department?”

Jason whispered to Percy, “Prank war?”

Percy shook Jason playfully. “Yup, on account of the fact that he just got transferred here and hasn’t been corrupted by our stupidity yet. Jason, meet Piper McLean.”

Piper smiled politely and shook Jason’s hand. “It’s a pleasure” she greeted.

Piper was seriously gorgeous. Her hazel eyes shifted from emerald-green to chocolate-brown and every color in-between depending on how the light hit them, and small braids tangled themselves in her shoulder-length hair.

It was probably because of all this that Jason held onto Piper’s hand for far too long and said something completely eloquent like “uh” before refocusing and nodding continuously. “Yup, I’m Jason.”

Jason kept nodding with his hands on his hips until Percy gripped his shoulder forcefully. “Well, this is sufficiently awkward. Anyone want snacks?” Leo stated, clapping his hands and turning back towards the shelves. Percy took the opportunity to explain the prank war to Jason.

“Piper thinks she can outdo me with pranks. First one to reach a hundred before April Fool’s day gets to have all their paperwork done by the loser.”

“If we weren’t on opposite teams I wouldn’t mind getting to know you better, but seeing as this is war I’m afraid it’ll have to wait until later.” Piper winked at Jason before slapping Leo’s hand as he tried to open Piper’s yogurt container without her noticing. “C’mon, Valdez, we have crooks to catch.”

Leo groaned while Piper tugged him out of the break room. “I don’t wanna go to school, Mom! Five more minutes!”

When they were alone in the breakroom Percy punched Jason playfully. “Do I see hearts floating around your head?” Jason made some kind of noise while his brain short-circuited. “Oh yeah, definitely hearts.” Percy shot arrows from an imaginary bow at Jason, who rolled his eyes and swatted them away.How she could see anything in a guy like Jason, he could only wonder.

“She was definitely flirting, right?” He asked himself aloud. Percy laughed.

“Figure that all out by yourself, detective? C’mon, tour’s not over yet.”

Percy led Jason downstairs after he grabbed a bag of Little Bite blue muffins. He popped one into his mouth as he maneuvered towards his own desk, pointing out the Evidence Room, File Room, Lock-Up and Bathrooms to Jason on the way. Leo’s desk was a mess of files and paperwork which piled on top of each other at the edge of the desk while his computer was free of debris. Piper’s was neatly organized but just as full of files, which Percy tried to change by casually sliding files onto the ground as he moved past it. Piper kicked him in the shin.

Percy limped the rest of the way to his desk. “And this is my home” he stated proudly, gesturing to a mess that rivaled Leo’s. “Yours is right there” he noted, pointing to an empty cubicle beside his. “It was Grover’s, but he left last month to join the DEA.”

Jason ran his hand over the smooth white desk. He noticed Percy looked a little sad that Grover was gone, but he didn’t sense any hostility from Percy, which was a good sign. In fact, Percy refocused and smiled at Jason. “Ready to head to the crime scene?”

Jason nodded and adjusted his jacket. “I’ve got shotgun.”

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benbarnesescape · 7 years

Note

Hey, if you're taking requests I'd love to read one about the reader being the girl back home in England that he can't wait to see every time he comes back! I can't believe I've only just discovered your blog, it's my new favourite thing on tumblr because Ben *insert heart eyes emote here*

A/N: @ravenclaw-dirt I LOVED writing this. Might honestly be one of my favorite pieces that I’ve written. Hope you enjoy and its what you are looking for and thank you for the kind words - I equally love that talented man

PS I’m not a programmer so apologies if I’m incorrect, I tried to fake it as best as I could lol

Warnings: So much fluff my heart might have broken into feathery pieces

You sighed, inserting the key into the lock of your flat as you kicked off your gold sandals and hung your keys on the key ring by your door. Missing the other pair of sneakers that you had thrown your sandals on top of. Not catching the other ringlet of keys that silently hung beside your own.

Too tired to notice any of these things because it had been one of those days.

Even though it was Sunday, you had been called in early that morning because the servers at the company you worked for had crashed. Which would have been okay if you weren’t the person responsible to repair the bloody things. Then, after showing up and reviewing the damage, a simple 2 hour task had become an all day nightmare. someone hadn’t updated the software for your cyber security so now you had to do a scan of all the company’s assets to ensure that nothing had been breached. And you still had work you’d end up doing tonight bleeding into the morning.

If that hadn’t been enough, the power went out in the building halfway through your analysis with your colleagues. You had spent half the day drenched in sweat, typing furiously on your laptop trying to find the source of the problem, your short jeans and tank top doing nothing to alleviate the discomfort of the hot and humid building.

You were exhausted and all you wanted to do was take a cold shower and sleep away the bad day.

You walked into your living room, stripping your sweat drenched tank top and falling face first on your couch. You could also pass out here. You were not opposed to this option either.

You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t notice the small luggage bag by your bedroom door, or the smell of food cooking in the stove, dismissing the smell from wafting in from a neighbors apartment. It was only when you heard,

“Babe are you ok?” that you popped your head up in fear, your eyes skimming over the couch. You were greeted with ‘Ben’s smile as he peeled off the oven mittens he was wearing.

“Ben!?” you ask surprised and before he can say anything, your body was lifting you up, hastily bringing you closer to him before you jumped into his arms.

He chuckled as you wrapped your legs around him, not caring that you were sticky and probably didn’t smell the best.

He was home.

“What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling away from him and placing his face in your hands.

“Well, I thought they’d need me in America for a couple more days but turns out I have a couple more weeks until my next gig. So I thought I’d come and visit my best girl.” he leans up and kisses you, his soft lips skimming over yours before there pressed into you and you moan, your hands getting lost in his hair. Its only when you try to deepen the kiss that he pulls away, his eyes closed as he rests his forehead against yours.

“....I’m making lasagna and it has at least 30 more minutes. Don’t get me started.”

You groan, hiding your head in in his neck before mumbling,

“But its been sooooo long babe. I’ve missed you,” you start placing soft kisses on his neck and he gives a soft groan as his grip around your waist tightens. “Ask your mom. I’ve missed you sooooooo much.”

He pulls far back enough to look at you and shakes his head,

“I don’t want to think about my mom while you’re trying to seduce me.”

You giggle as his right hand slowly skims over your cleavage, trailing up your bra strap before stopping at your collar bone. His index finger wraps under the tight strap, pulling it far enough for it snap back on your skin, causing you to give an involuntary gasp.

“What’s with the get up? I know its a mite hot in here from the oven but i didn’t think it was that bad.”

You throw your head back dramatically, the weight shift catching him off guard as you fall back further than expected. He catches you easily, placing you on the counter and stepping between your legs as you breath out,

“Servers went down at work. Then the bloody AC went out at work and I was stuck trying to figure which bloody idiot caused the problem in the first place.”

You leaned back against the counter, your hot skin resting against your cool cabinets and you lean far enough to grab his grey T-shirt, pulling him closer to you.

“See why I need you? I had a really bad day. And its my day off.”

“My poor baby.” he mumbles, placing soft kisses on your neck before nipping at the sensitive skin and he pulls back, looking at you and biting down on his lip.

“What?” you ask and he leans on the counter across from you, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I have a question. About us.”

You leaned your head to the right, raising your brows in curiosity.

“Yes?”

He’s watching you carefully before he asks,

“How would you feel about going public?”

You were silent, weariness falling once more on your body. This was how you and Ben had gotten into a fight last time you spoke. He kept pushing about going public about your five year relationship and every time you shut it down. You didn’t want to be dragged into a media circus. You had both done a successful job of convincing media outlets you were just good, platonic friends. Coming out meant that your life would change. You’d have to take extra precautions in everything that you did because you would no longer just represent yourself. You’d be representing him too.

That idea didn’t exactly thrill you.

When you had bought this up with his mother a week ago, she had helped you organize your relationship in a pro and con list. If the pro’s outweighed the cons, perhaps it was a risk worth taking. Despite the consequences.

You had spent 45 goddamn minutes on that list.

The pro’s had won.

Ben was still watching you carefully, his dark eyes neutral as not to betray your feelings. He understood the weight of what he was asking you but he also knew he loved you. To him that was enough.

“Even though I wouldn’t be thrilled to tell the world that I was dating the hottest man on the planet,” he rolls his eyes though the smirk on his face doesn't go unnoticed. “If it made you happy - I’d be open to making it happen. Besides, it’ll get you to shut up about it.”

He smiles at you, walking toward you and pressing his lips down in a kiss. Its only seconds before his hands are roaming over your exposed skin, easily finding the clasps to your bra and tugging them off. His mouth makes a hot trail down your neck, eagerly searching for your breast and your hands run through his hair, tugging you closer to him. Its when his mouth bites down on the sensitive skin above your breast that you moan out,

“Thought you didn’t want to burn the lasagna?”

“Fuck the lasagna.” he mumbles, pulling away from you only to lift you up and carry you to your shared bedroom.

You end up ordering a pizza that night, both of you wrapped in sheets as you go through another analysis on your computer while he began the first episode of Game of Thrones. His phone buzzes and you think nothing of it as he checks the message, noticing that its from his manager.

Did you ask her yet? When should I tell Jeanine to release a statement?

He smiles, typing a quick message before setting his phone aside and kissing your exposed shoulder.

“I love you.” he whispers against your soft skin and you smile, despite the scowl on your face.

“I love you too babe.”

Its not until the next evening that the text makes sense.

Tell her to release the announcement of our engagement Tuesday morning.

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httphopewrld · 3 years

Text

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a) sneak peek!!!

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slow-burn fluff, some angst, and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I’ve written, and there’s more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU’RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS.

Word Count: more than 10,000 (not finished yet)

A/N: Happy birthday J-Hope! Although the fic won’t be released today, or tomorrow, on his birthday, it will be out next Friday (February 26). Please let me know in the comments if you wanted to be included in the taglist, and what you think!

Taglist: @kirbykook @kleritata @taestannie @jenotation @hemmos-obrien @zeharilisharaban @speed-of-wind

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel, said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company’s items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while you managed the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. “Fantastic. Thank you. That’ll be all for now. Please check on West if he needs anything.” You requested. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show’s theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada’s landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, “Because you’re here all the time!” You backed back to her. “Listen, you’re the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense.” Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. “Fuck,” you cursed, taking your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you. The measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time. Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. “Wow look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. “The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won’t look good if they don’t fit the models.” You shook your head. “Maybe it’s just tougher to design clothes for different bodies, genders, and colours. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that.” Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and then finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts jhope #jhope fanfic #jhope smut #jhope fluff #jhope angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #ficswithluv #houseofddaeng

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nemesis-nexus · 5 years

Text

Full Sturgeon Moon 2019

HAIL THE ANCIENT FAMILY IN ALL ITS GLORY! We call to you now to thank you for all you have provided us, from the most exquisite jubilation to the hardest lessons that need to be learned! We may not understand the underlying value of the lesson being taught at the time but we figure it out soon enough! One of the lessons we are currently learning is that you really can’t take anything for granted because if we do we may find that what we rely on simply to exist may not be there tomorrow! The Human Race is capable of great progress but it is also capable of great destruction! Look no further for proof of this than our heavy reliance on technology. This is not to say that technology in and of itself is a bad thing, it IS saying that it CAN be a bad thing when it becomes so overused that it is literally taking the place of human beings!

When the Human Race was reborn millennia ago, we had to rely on our own intellect, our wits and our ability to reason and think rationally. Because of this we were mentally sharp and able to overcome most obstacles as we were able to compromise when necessary to ensure that everyone had what they needed to survive. This does not mean that there were no conflicts or wars, of course there were, but the amount of damage done was much less than what we have seen in the last few centuries and significantly less than we have seen in the last 100 years! Why is this? Because there is a world of difference between a canon and an H-Bomb, Scud Missile, Underwater Mine or Nuclear Warhead! It never ceases to amaze me that most of the technology that man has come up with since the Flood is nothing short of a myriad of ways to destroy itself and everything around it!

A few centuries ago when a person or group went fishing all they had were rods, reels and nets to catch what was available so there was little chance of snaring something larger such as a dolphin just because you cast your net and mindlessly dragged in whatever was caught in it. Today we have tuna trawlers that go to deeper waters cast their nets and drag back any and all manner of marine life including dolphins and octopi among others. What’s worse is when these trawlers actually go looking for dolphins, sharks, whales and such because the Humans blood lust is such that even though many breeds of these being are endangered and in a lot of cases mammals such whales are ONLY killed for their blubber or bones, they keep hunting them down! I wonder what they will do when they’ve successfully killed off the last whale? Speaking of killing animals for their parts – the ivory trade has been responsible for the slaughtering of many elephants for their tusks! It was bad enough in the beginning when the firepower of the human was minimal, but now with the introduction of technology such as elephant guns, they can kill many more in a shorter time period than before!

Why do I bring all of this up? Because Ignorant selfish self-righteous and pretentious people will be the absolute end of the human race but not before several MORE species are long killed off by them! Those who value ONLY human life and cast everything including the natural world to the wayside stating that "the planet was here long before we were and will be here long after we are gone" as an excuse to continue their murderous and destructive agenda across the globe will find that in the end the ONLY thing they really accomplished was signing their own death certificates!

NINHURSAG did not create the Earth so that we could dishonor her and proceed to abuse and slaughter all of her other children!

ENKI did not put his neck and position in the Grand Assembly on the line so that we could turn around and spit in his face!

There is a way to counter this and it revolves around humans waking up and remembering that they are part of the Hoop of Life, not above it or below it but right in the round with everything else! One way to do this is to take a break from the hustle and bustle of city life and take a walk through the woods. Sit down. Listen to the birds sing. Watch the deer graze. Listen to the sound of the Wind rustling through the trees and for a few minutes forget about modern technology and hear the song of the Ancient technology that enabled us to get this far! Forget about things having price tags attached to them and remember the most valuable things in life are in fact priceless and once they are gone all the synthesized replacements will never hold a candle to the real thing! The sun in the sky, the air we breathe, the earth we walk. All these things are treasures beyond any and all fiduciary measure!

In a few days I myself will be partaking on an excursion back to nature in the White Mountains, I will be venturing off with a couple friends to the middle of nowhere in the woods to recharge my Spiritual batteries! I will kick off my shoes and let my feet sink deep into the unspoiled Earth and submerge in the water that is Bear Basin. And yes it is called that because there are in fact bears in the area as well as deer, moose, birds of all kinds and most likely every insect one can expect to be that deep in the woods! These so called “pests” are the reason why even though it is imperative to stay in tune with nature, that one does so responsibly by taking all the necessary precautions against insects such as ticks (Lyme disease) and mosquitoes (West Nile, Triple E) as these are souvenirs no one wants to take home with them!

One of the most invigorating things about being in the middle of nowhere, completely unplugged from ALL technology is that you remember that you don’t need bright flashy lights and loud noises to be entertained, all you have to do is look up at the night sky and see that never-ending trail of starlight and if you’re lucky you can look into the wood or around the water and see a trail of blinking lights all around you down below as well courtesy of natures “Flash Dancers” aka Lighting Bugs! I used to love catching them in jars, just had to remember to poke holes into the lid so they didn’t suffocate! The best thing about reconnecting with nature is that you get a deeper appreciation for the gifts that were given to us to help us survive and you realize that all of mans modern technology doesn’t help anything or anyone BUT man and in the grand scheme of things, this is a system doom to collapse!

Why is this? Because the one thing that humans seem to keep forgetting is that all their computer, cell phone, game consoles, airplanes, boats, weapons, water bottles, oil, gas etc are dependent on things found in the Earth! While used sparingly and for the right reasons, these components can last for centuries, however, the way that things are being done now the methods being employed to obtain these items are actually causing a LOT more harm than they are helping and the ones responsible are of course in complete denial about it! Unfortunately for them they can’t argue with statistics and actual proof of the damage that is being done through fracking fault lines and cutting down the forests, killing anyone who gets in their way! Recently the newly elected President of Brazil enabled the slaughter of not one but THREE Elders of an Amazonian Tribe because they refused to just let oil and gas companies come in and ravage the Rainforest! Apparently the President needs to go take an Earth Science course to get a clue that if he allows the Rainforest to be dismantled it will NOT just be those uncontacted Tribes who are displaced or effected! He needs to learn how nature works and that by cutting down the trees what he’s really doing is cinching the noose around EVERYONE’S – his included – neck!

Why do I bring this up? Because the responsibility is ALL of ours collectively as one Human Race, so many fancy themselves as superior to most if not all other species and yet we are the ONLY species that needs to rely on death to continue life. What do I mean by that? Every time the side of a mountain is strip-mined the earth gets weakened and is susceptible to land slides. Every time we clear the forest for land development we render whatever wildlife that lived there homeless and many times this is resolved by people shooting whatever shows up in their new backyard which used to be that animals front yard! We are the only species that hunts down other animals, not to eat the meat or utilize the carcass in any way but JUST to kill it! Trophy Hunters make me sick! If we are so superior to everything else then why is it we are the ONLY species on the planet that has become so far removed from nature and the spiritual that we actually think we can control it and get mad when we realize once again that isn’t the case?

The answer is because we are NOT superior and the only thing that keeps us tripping down this rocky path is our own egos! But I wonder what will we do when we’ve mined the last ore? When we’ve cut down the last tree? When we’ve completely destroyed the water? When we’ve rendered the air too toxic to breathe? When we have poisoned the soil and nothing can grow? Will the human race take a page out of the Hollywood handbook and start creating actual Terminators? I have a feeling this may in fact already be happening, I’m not kidding! Look no further for proof of this than the fact that almost EVERYTHING is online or digital in one form or another! Our currency is on the brink of collapse with the introduction of digital currency! I don’t like money myself, too many are willing to kill and die for it, but I do NOT trust digital currency at all mainly because it would be all too easy for a hacker to drain your account or shut down wherever it was being stored altogether and without a paper trail, you can’t prove how much you actually had in the bank! Don’t say it won’t happen, cyber crimes such as identity theft are a huge problem even with all these alleged security measures in place!

Imagine knowing who you are but being unable to prove it? Now imagine knowing who you are but having someone with a grudge erase your identity and replace it with the dossier of a repeat offender! Sounds like a movie doesn’t it? Unfortunately this is where we are headed with the way things are going, robots replacing human workers putting that many more out of the job and as the desperation to make ends meet increases so will the depths they will sink to to make it happen! If you don’t think so take for example 2 people, one robs a store because they have a habit to feed and the other robs the store because their bills are mounting and their kids need food and clothing or they need to make rent. One is a criminal, the other is committing what is known as a survival crime meaning they wouldn’t have done it if not for having been put out of work because their former employer wanted to save a couple bucks! It is truly reprehensible what we are willing to do to one another for the sake of nothing more than our own selfish gain but this is precisely how disconnected from each other we have become! As disconnected as we are from each other, we are even more disconnected from the Spiritual aspects of existence! It is the Spirit that keeps things going even when it seems all hope is gone, we have seen this time and again! We must reconnect to the Spirit, to the Earth and to each other if we have any chance of a viable future!

I still hold out hope that this can be achieved if we all really want it to be! The first thing we have to do is let go of our ego and stop allowing it to call the shots in every situation especially when we know that someone else’s needs supersedes our own! The second thing we need to do is realize that ALL life has value – even the animals we eat to survive which is why they deserved to be shown a life of comfort and appreciation leading up to the time when their life will be taken and their body processed for the sake of our survival. We do not see this occurring in what are known as “factory farms” because these places don’t care about the animals living conditions, only how fast they can fatten them up and slaughter them! This very practice is an affront to Ninhursag who provided us with these animals who should be shown all the gratitude we can muster given what is to become of them!

Now is the time of the Full Sturgeon Moon so named because the Tribes around the Great Lakes know that it is this time of the year when the Sturgeon will be at their most active and plentiful! When they go fishing they go with humble hearts and thankful Spirits that they are provided this sustenance in which to survive upon, especially during the harsh winter months when the Lakes freeze and there are no fish to catch until Spring! I wish I could say that everyone was so appreciative, especially those who ‘go fishing’ at their nearest supermarket! It never ceases to amaze me that those who have it the easiest are more often than not the least gratified and I honestly think it is that disconnection from the process of actually going out and hunting for their food that is the cause. That and all the chemicals that are found in our meat anymore!

While it is not overly realistic for everyone to go hunting every time, imagine how much healthier people would be from consuming a fresh kill rather than a ammonia processed, oil based plastic and Styrofoam packaged bag of poison? Well this may also not be true for much longer at the rate the Humans are going with their chemical compounds being sprayed all over from crop dusters high up and being blown every which way with the wind! These chemicals are killing off by the MILLIONS some of natures hardest workers – the bees! These tiny pollinating powerhouses land on a flower or blade of grass and they get the toxins on their feet or even breathe it in while in flight and that is the end of them! What those who spray this lethal concoction fail to understand is that without the bees to pollinate the same crops they are spraying this stuff on, those same crops are NOT going to be as healthy due not only to the lack of pollen but also the introduction of the very poison meant to keep aphids away!

AVE NINHURSAG! We know that you created everything on Earth for a reason, because each and every life form has a place in the Circle that enables all forms to live, hunt, consume and reproduce thus continuing the cycle. That of course is not the only thing that is done, whether Humans admit it or not, we are not the only ones who value their freedom! Have you ever seen a herd of horses run across an open Plain? Have you ever seen how they are generally treated at a racetrack ESPECIALLY if they LOSE the race? You will notice the difference in just how lively vs lethargic they are, whether they are apprehensive or passive when there are other Humans around. This is because on the Plain they have the whole world to run around and natural grasses to feed on whereas in a lot of horseracing they are pumped full of steroids and antibiotics and beaten or have ping pong balls shoved in their nostrils that ultimately suffocate them to death by some vile Human who just decided they no longer served a purpose! This is not to say ALL jockeys are this callous and cruel, but even ONE is one too many! We must remember that it is not for us to determine that any being should be put to death especially if there is nothing actually wrong with them! This includes wildlife such as foxes, bears, bobcats, cougars, coyotes etc! Let us make our Great Mother proud and show her by example that we truly are grateful for the plethora of different life forms she has bestowed upon this Earth!

AVE ENKI! We know that your Sweet Waters are the lifeblood of the planet which is why people NEED to be more aware of just how compromised they have made the waters the world over! Have you ever sat at a lakeside and watched the fish swim? Conversely, have you ever sat at a doctor’s office and watched the fish swim in the tank? You may have noticed that the fish in the lake are a lot more active than the fish in the tank or even at the aquarium and why? Because the fish in the lake are NOT being ogled at or manhandled or having the glass of their tank banged on by ignorant Humans! They also have a lot more room to move around not to mention everything around them is natural and NOT synthetic! Same thing for the animals in the zoo and in the circus! The only benefit that fish in the tank or aquarium have is that their water may be a bit cleaner than that of the wild fish and that is just sickening! It must anger Enki to see his Waters being so carelessly polluted by toxic waste, discarded medications and all manner of trash! Let us make our Father Enki proud and show him that we do value the Water as it is the source of ALL Life Medicine! MNI KIN WICONI!

This holding any life form in captivity also makes me wonder how Humans would feel if they were out enjoying life then suddenly they were shot with a tranquilizer dart or have a net thrown over them then are dragged away and stuck in cages to be gawked at by strangers in an environment they’ve never been in before! Yes one could make the argument for Human trafficking in this context and the sickest thing about that is that it is STILL the Humans who are committing these contemptible acts against their own species! Truly it must enrage our Mother and Father to see these horrific crimes against Humanity take place! This is amplified exponentially when it involves children of ANY age! There are some seriously depraved members of our Human race! That is why if anyone sees something that doesn’t seem right that it is best to alert the authorities, it is ALWAYS better to do so and be wrong than do NOTHING and be right enabling another abuser to get away with their crime!

Coming full circle with this sermon I leave everyone with this bit of advice; technology CAN be very beneficial; it keeps us connected across the globe, it enables farmers to cultivate, plant and reap crops that much faster, it also has done wonders with microsurgery but it can also be very detrimental when we lose sight of what matter matters most (LIFE) and begin to substitute it with any number and manner of “toys” and other unnatural and synthetic items that do severe damage to the ecosystem and all life forms that dwell therein! We must remember that if we cut down the trees, we are cutting off our air, if we pave over the Earth we are interfering with its electro-magnetic field! We cannot perform any Spell or Ritual work if the Energies we rely on to carry them are disrupted! Look no further for proof of this than how Religious and Spiritual ceremonies were conducted in the Ancient World when they didn’t have all this pollution and interference to contend with when they gathered at the Temple! Remember they may not have had all our “modern conveniences” but what they DID have on a Spiritual level was FAR superior to anything anyone could manufacture in a lab and it showed in their day to day and night to night life!

As always I am including a prayer and a song that has meant a GREAT deal to me for YEARS and it touches on everything that was discussed in this sermon! In fact the movie (“Legend 1986”) that it is taken from is a PERFECT example of human carelessness and self-entitlement throwing everything off kilter and just how effective the unity of the Humans and the Fae Folk is when we put aside our pretenses and do what must be done for the sake of Multiversal Balance!

I would also like to point out that even though the name of the song and the chorus state “Loved By The Sun” that it is NOT just the Sun that keeps things in Balance, the Moon plays an equally important role in the continuation of the cycle of Life and should be respected accordingly!

“Step outside, breathe in Natures Spirit,

Feel yourself becoming one with it!

Take a step, feel your feet sink into the Earth,

Close your eyes and feel your Soul’s rebirth!

Walk into the Water, feel it embrace your being,

Slowly submerge while you hear the birds singing!

Let go of the physical world and let your Spirit fly,

Let nothing hold you back as you soar across the sky!

Look up at the Stars how they paint a trail beyond the Moon,

Sense your inner self rising coming out of your cocoon!

There are things in this world which are never touched or seen,

The most important things in life are the ones that make us serene!

Nature’s beauty is always a sight that leaves viewers humble,

We must take great care to make sure that the image doesn’t crumble!

Water is Life, Air is Life, Earth is Life, Fire is Life, Spirit is the Guide,

So don’t rely only on what you are looking at and open your Third Eye!

There is so much more to see than that what is physically entailed,

When you let your Heart be your leader you will see beyond the Veil!

So forget what they dictate to you is worthwhile don’t let them plant that seed,

And return to Mother Nature, the one who always knows what we need!

-Nemesis Nexus (‘Reconnection’)”

“I have seen the mystics play there,

Once or twice well I knew they had a reason!

Enchantment plays it's cards all right

Hand in hand with the workings of the seasons!

Legends can be now and forever,

Teaching us to love for goodness sake!

Legends can be now and forever,

Loved by the sun, loved by the sun!

Loved

Two and two go so close together,

Whether there is hope that is torn apart!

In the words of all that's singing,

Hand in hand the beginning is at the start!

Legends can be now and forever,

Teaching us to reach for goodness sake!

Legends can be now and forever,

Loved by the sun!

Loved

Who sings of all of love's eternity?

Whose shines so bright,

In all the songs of love's unending spells…?

Only lightning strikes all that's evil,

Teaching us to love for goodness sake!

Hear the music of love eternal,

Teaching us to reach for goodness sake!

Legends can be now and forever,

Teaching us to love for goodness sake!

Sweet songs of youth, the wise, the meeting of all wisdom

To believe in the good in man

-Tangerine Dream f/Jon Anderson (“Loved By The Sun/Legend 1986”)

ZI ANA KANPA! ZI KIA KANPA!

MAY THE DEAD RISE AND SMELL THE INSENCE!

Etiamsi MULTA Et Nos UNUM Sumus Nos Sto Validus Ut Nos Sto Una!

Semper Veritas, Semper Fideles, In NINHURSAG'S Nomen Nos Fides! AVE NINHURSAG!

(We Are ONE Even Though We Are MANY And We Stand STRONGEST When We Stand TOGETHER!

Always TRUTHFUL, Always FAITHFUL, In NINHURSAG'S Name We Trust! HAIL NINHURSAG!)

AVÉ IGIGGI!

AVÉ ANUNNA!

AVÉ DRACONIS!

HAIL THE GREAT SERPENT!

HAIL THE ANCIENT FAMILY!

HPS Meg "Nemesis Nexus" Prentiss

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bissswhwifi · 7 years

Text

Idiot with a dead wish

Olicity // AO3 // 3,163 // more fics

Summary: Here is my fourth submission for the Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Ton. The prompt was out of place.

Felicity Smoak is a firm believer that her soulmate has a death wish. One night out with friends changes when her soulmate’s life is once again on the line she get’s nosy and ends up in the basement of Verdant and meets the head of the Bratva in Starling who helps her put an end to the search to find her soulmate.

Just like every other month when Catiline, Cisco, and Barry were in town for Star LABS. They would all go for a night out in Starling. Because Cisco was sick Barry and Caitlin had come up with the idea of bringing Iris and Ronny with them. Felicity new that she was going to be the fifth wheel but if Cisco would have come with she had at least someone to talk to and she would need a lot of alcohol to keep her sane when going out with her friends who already found their soulmate.

The only thing that didn’t make her call in sick for the night was that she was the one to pick the place to go this time and she had picked, Verdant. She had always wanted to go there even if it was on Bratva property but she didn’t care, she wanted to have a nice night out and that couldn’t if she didn’t have any alcohol in her system and had to fifth wheel with Barry, Iris and Caitlin and Ronny. At least she had to do something, find out why she was so drawn to Verdant.

Just as she had predicted, only five minutes in and she already ended up alone on her way to the bar while her friends were dancing somewhere in the in mends crowd of people that were on the dance floor. Just as she almost reached the bar the feeling of her chest collapsing was the thing that made her spurt to the bar even faster as if her soulmate thought it was a good time to almost die on her for the however many times he had before.

She had pretty much gotten used to it happening at least two-three times a month for the last five year since she stopped taking the drug after she got out of MIT. In the beginning months, she had mostly only felt an ache in her whole body after she moved to Starling it had been quite for some time but for the last few years, she had slowly gotten sick of it happening again and again. It was keeping her from her dear friend ‘sleep’. Five years of looking and she hadn’t gotten any closer to knowing only one thing, he was somewhere here in Starling.

There was something about the pain she felt that was different than the times before, it was more painful than ever before and made her feel like she was suffocating and the worst part of it all, no one noticed. She was all on her own. It took her about a minute till she was able to breathe again and after that, she needed a strong drink while she was going to hack into Verdant’s server because whoever her soulmate is, he was in here somewhere and everything that looked suspicious to her was going to get looked at.

She knew that this was Bratva property and to her, that made it obvious that they at least had some business stuff on their servers, but she didn’t care. Felicity wanted to know what kind of idiot with a death wish was keeping her up at night. She was in their system within a few minutes, from her phone, for an illegal organization their cyber security was garbage. If she could hack into it the FBI probably do it too, it would take them a bit longer but they could do it.

The thing that she found were two different kinds of blueprints, one with the basement and one without it, so the basement it was. Somehow she made her way passed the staff, they really needed to up their security, like right now. Once she found a barged door with a keypad she made a wild guess and created the lock and if it couldn’t get any worse the code ended up being 2580, making her think ‘why even put a lock on the door’.

She made it down the stairs before she saw the first guard come run up to her, keeping in mind that just five minutes before she had drowned a whole glass of red wine. The first hit the guard took at her he missed and that lead to her losing her balance, give the guard a pretty big hit to the head with her purse. The second guard was able to grab a hold of her but not before she plunged the heel of her shoe in his feet a few times before she gave up trying to get lose, which was probably the best idea she had had all night.

"Anatoly Knyazev, Pakhan. Who are you and how did you get in here?" She heard the man approaching her say with two guys that were likely two times his size behind him. She knew a bit about the Russian mafia, who in Starling didn’t and one of those thins was the Pakhan was like the guy you really should not mess with, So pretending not to be frightened, was the go-to thing to do. “Felicity Smoke, MIT class of '09. I was able to hack into your server from my phone in like under a minute or so. Took a look at the blueprints, found the suspicious looking basement. Found the basement and after that, it only took me a few seconds till I cracked the lock om the basement door. P.S. sorry for the guard, I got scared." She said bouncing back and forth while looking at the guards that had just let go of her were still standing next to her keeping an eye out on her. "Because whoever is dying down here. I want to know who the hell they are, I want to know what kind idiot with a death wish is my soulmate." She told Anatoly firmly in her loud voice after taking a break to get the act back together after her rambling while she walked up to him.

"Let me see," Anatoly said in a stern voice as soon as she stood in front of him, holding out his hand. She knew that she couldn't show how scared she actually was at the moment, she had been good at hiding it before but this was something on a whole other level, it's not every day that you're eye to eye with the head of the Russian mafia. She swallowed for air before taking off the bracelet that on her right wrist and held it out for him to see. The initials, OJQ, on her wrist were blood red and surrounded by strings of dried blood. There were bruises all around the mark and she was still biting back the pain her mark was causing her. As soon as Anatoly saw the red letters on her wrist, he turned around and started yelling out things in Russian "Если кто-то из вас болит только волосы на голове, королева - это тот, кого вы должны бояться не меня".(if any of you hurt only a hair on her head Queen is the one you should be scared of not me) She had no idea what was going on and what was going to happen to her. All she saw happening was Anatoly ordering around different people in Russian.

"Miss Smoak, will you follow me?" Anatoly asked her in his best English after everyone but them had cleared out the room. It had been a while and she didn’t know for how long she had been standing in the room since Anatoly had cleared the room but it had been awhile. She hadn’t expected Anatoly to be so careful around her when asking her to follow him. "What the hell is happening, I'm not going to die tonight, right?" She asked him with a small trembling on her voice when they made their way out of the room. "No, no, no. Of cores not." Anatoly said followed by a small laugh. It lifted a lot of the weight that was pulling her down and for the first time since she entered the basement, she could breathe again. "I want to ask you to come with me to my house, we moved your soulmate there, he really is an idiot sometimes but nobody really dares to tell him. We moved him as soon as we saw that he needed surgery right away." Hearing that the relive she had felt just moments ago was once again gone. "Why not the hospital? Forget that I even asked that." She said as soon as she figured out what was happening again. "Did you come alone or with friends. It's not safe to come to a club all by yourself." Anatoly asked her when they found them self at the bottom of the stairs. "I came with some friends of mine, kind of the fifth wheel of two couples." "Go say your goodbyes and Mister Diggle will meet you at the exit and we'll be on our way to the house," Anatoly said as they reached the top of the stairs and he introduced her to Mister Diggle and made his way to the side door exit.

“It’ll just be a moment.” She told Mister Diggle and made her way back the way she came. It took her a while to find somebody but she eventually did find Ronny at the bar ordering some drinks.

“I’m going home, don’t feel so good. Tell the rest not to worry I already called a cab.” She so what hat to screen in Ronny’s ear. “Get home safe and get well soon.” After Ronny had said that with such a sad face it almost made her feel bad about lying to him but no one could stand in her way of being so close to finally having the chance to meet her soulmate after five years of dead ends.

“You guy’s drive safe.” She said before she made her way to exit to meet Mister Diggle at the exit that then leads her to the car Anatoly was waiting in. “Miss Smoak, tell me more about how you were able to get into our system?” Anatoly asked her before they drove away.

“Guess I didn’t die, again,” Oliver said after he opened his eyes and saw Tommy and Diggle standing next to the way to familiar hospital bad he was in once again.

“Well be happy you didn’t or else Anatoly would be extra mad this time,” Tommy said before folding his arms and turning around to walk out of the room.

“What was all that about,” Oliver asked while sitting up straight in the bed.

“You have to see that one for yourself.” Diggle wanted before walking out the room himself.

Oliver didn’t have a single idea what was happening on the other side of the walls, hell he just woke up after surgery. Tommy and Diggle didn’t really help either and he wouldn’t know why Anatoly would be mad at him. Nobody died, they got the job and the only one hurt was him and that wasn’t anything new.

“Oliver, glad to see you walking again. Your much more helpful to both of us alive.” He heard Anatoly say walking in while he was looking for his shirt and didn’t she who was walking behind Anatoly.

It was only when he turned around after he had put on his shirt he saw the petite blond woman standing next to Anatoly. Her hair was in a high ponytail, she was wearing a black dress covered by Anatoly’s jacket and holding her heels in her hands. He didn’t know who she was but she seemed like he had met her before. He didn’t know the feeling that was going through him when they locked eyes, it felt out of place but yet so right all at the same time.

“Felicity, meet Oliver. Oliver, Felicity Smoak.”

Oliver heard Anatoly say the words but looking at her standing in front he felt so surreal. It had to be her, it had to? It took him a while to make him self-reach out to formally shake her hand. A quick look down made him see that he still had his shirt in his hands.

“Oliver Queen.” He finally said after he had put on his shirt.

“Felicity Smoak.” She said while shaking his hand. For some reason he couldn’t get his eyes to look away from her’s, they still looked so innocent and a part of him wanted her to get out of here because she was so out of place here.

“Well now that you two have met, you still need to debrief and after I’m done talking to Miss Smoak than you can have her all to you self,” Anatoly said turning to Oliver before leading Felicity out of the room.

“Everything went just as planned.” Oliver pleaded his case after he had sat down in Anatomy's office.

“Except for the bullets.” He heard Felicity say, how would she know something like that, let alone bullets.

“I got shot, I’m still sitting here.” He said motioning at himself while looking at her from the seat next to her.

“Yeah, because your death wish hasn’t come out true yet,” Felicity said while sitting up a little straighter.

“What is that supposed to mean,” Oliver said while moving a bit to the front his chair and sitting a bit straighter as well.

“Do you know every time you get hurt and end up with almost dying. I get a lovely, painful reminder. Every damn time. How are you still alive.” He was shocked when she got out of her chair and so what yelled at him. There was something that he just couldn’t understand why she was so mad at him. He knew, yes they were soulmates, there was no denying that as soon as he had seen his initials on her wrist.

“You were talking about the bullets,” Anatoly said after Felicity had sat back down again and a quick silence had settled between the three of them.

“Oh, yeah sorry about that.” She said to Anatoly before turning back to face him. “If you had taken a closer look at the bullets that you found before you went out, then you would have to know that they were Teflon-coated bullets.” She told him in her professional sounding voice like he would know what every word meant that came out of her mouth.

“I’m a supposed to know what all that means?” He said looking at Anatoly who was nodding his head as soon as Oliver looked at him.

“How do you not know what those are. You’re a captain in the Bratva for god-sake, how do you not know. They're bullets that have been covered with a thin coating of Polytetrafluorethylene or as their better known ‘cop killer bullets’ because they can go through Kevlar.” While she explained all of that he was just mesmerized by the way she explained things in her calming voice.

“So while you were out, this one tracked down the men that shot you and they are now in the hands of the SCPD. I hope that you two aren’t going to kill each other as soon as I leave the room because I need both of you, alive.” Anatoly said while putting one of his hands on Felicity’s shoulder before making his way out of the room after giving Oliver one last look.

“How did you even find me? Let alone get here?”

“I was out at verdant with a few friends of mine, nice night out, when you had one of your death wish antics. Couldn’t breathe for a while, this one felt worse than everything I had ever had before so I guessed that you had to be close. So I hacked into Verdant’s system and met Anatoly short after I broke into the basement after a nice chat Anatoly brought me here. And now here we, alone in a room. Did I mention that I don’t really know where I am right now.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you here but you hacked into our system, how are you not dead yet?” He saw that she was slowly showing hoe scared she really was, how could she not be.

“After I showed Anatoly my mark he yelled something in Russian and I explained how I got into the system on the way here and after that he hired me to fix it and keep the FBI from getting to all your files and the rest that you have stored on there.”

“How do know all of this stuff?” She was a genius in comparison to him.

“Because I am really smart and graduated from MIT when I was 19 with a Dubbel masters degree in cyber security and computer sciences.” She said as fast as he had heard anyone says.

“Don’t you have to lie down or something? You just got out of surgery a half hour ago.” She asked him out of the blue.

“No, I feel fine.” He said trying to hide the pain he was in at the moment while she sat right next to him.

“Oliver doesn't lie to me. I can feel when you’re in pain so just tell me already you stupid idiot.” She said while scooting closer to him and hitting him on his shoulder that he didn’t get shot in.

“Fine, it still hurts but I’m still warping my head around the fact that you’re really here, I never thought that I would meet you.” He said looking right at her with only inches between them.

“I’ve been looking on and off for you for almost five years and the only thing that I could come up with, was the fact that you were here in Starling somewhere and that drove me crazy. Knowing that I couldn’t find anything more information on you. You’re a mystery Oliver Queen and mystery’s, they bug me, they need to be solved.” She said leaning a bit closer to him while pointing her finger right on his Bratva tattoo on his heart.

“Well, my death wish is not yet fulfilled and now that you’re here, I can help you solve it.” He barely knew who she was but he already knew that he was madly in love with her the moment that he had seen her walked in.

“I would like that very much.” She said just before closing her eyes. Oliver couldn’t help himself any longer, he cupped her face in his hands and closed the small distance that was between her before giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

Если кто-то из вас болит только волосы на голове, королева - это тот, кого вы должны бояться не меня -> If any of you hurt only a hair on her head Queen is the one you should be scared of not me.

@thebookjumper @wherethereissmoak @olicityhiatusficathon @diggo26 @tdgal1 @green-arrows-of-karamel @laurabelle2930 @hope-for-olicity @coal000 @veertje2001 @dmichellewrites

#olicity hiatus fic-a-thon #olicityhiatusfic #olicity fanfiction #oliver queen #Felicity Smoak #olicity #oliver x felicity

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lazaefair · 7 years

Note

I SAW YOUR "#cyberpunk baze x chirrut?" TAG AND NOW I'M THINKING -- chirrut as the badass techno-monk still loyal to his destroyed order, baze as a Bodyguard For Hire With A Big Gun, ughhhhh i can see it so clearly in my head and i love it

Star Wars is basically one step away from cyberpunk anyway, just add more neon and stick everyone on one planet instead of a billion, et voilà.

Chirrut works as a technomancer, able to communicate with and manipulate computers directly without needing code or terminals or cybernetic implants. He came by his abilities not through the self-taught survival-of-the-fittest lessons of the street, nor through sinister experimentation by one of the Megacorps, but through good old-fashioned techno-religion. His bond with the very web of cyberspace becomes the stuff of legends on both the mainstream and shadow ‘nets. This flickering presence known as The Monk, who slips through firewalls and cyber sentries like so much tissue paper, who runs his digital fingers through classified archives and top-security files pretty much whenever and however he pleases, whose reported exploits far exceed the number of places he’s actually been in.

Even glimpsing his avatar requires feats of hacking accessible only to the top tiers of hackers, the legends say, and a confirmed Monk sighting goes onto a person’s net profile like an elite badge of honor, good for both reputations and credit accounts. The legends have also embroidered the description of Chirrut’s avatar way beyond the actual mask of bits and bytes that he assumes when he goes into cyberspace - he particularly enjoys the fanfics that feature flames, or improbably giant swords, or improbably glowing armor, or all three at once - but most of them eventually boil down to a few common threads: a beautiful man with Chinese features, wearing traditional robes, disarming your defenses in a single glance of his eerie, blank white eyes.

But as invincible as The Monk may be in cyberspace, commanding the very hardware of its machinery to bend to his will, he has a weakness. Which is simply the weakness of any hacker, down to the most ordinary - when he’s plugged in, he can’t defend his own body.

Company enforcers know that. Rival hackers know that. Anyone Chirrut has ever crossed, from the Megacorp that bought out and razed his religious order, to the most recent two-bit mob boss he humiliated and laid bare to the sharks of the underworld, and continuing on down the list, knows that.

So that’s where Baze comes in.

Baze - to put it in the simplest terms - has a really big gun.

He started life as a fully organic, ordinary genetic human. That’s all ancient history by now, seriously - the reason why his Wuxing IST-Tech 45 plasma-cell cannon has so much concentrated firepower, and why it’s so deadly accurate in his hands, is because strictly speaking, there’s no boundary between the cannon and his hands. Cybernetic implants in his limbs, his body, his eyes - even his brain - turn him into a living weapon, one that maintains the firepower and accuracy even if by some miracle he’s separated from his primary weapon.

His reputation takes longer to grow and spread than Chirrut’s, in part because it’s a fair few years before anyone realizes the quiet-but-menacing mercenary with minor-but-solid street cred operating in a single medium-size city within the Sino-Pacific Trade Group is connected to the much-rumored but somehow even more elusive bodyguard of the internationally-famous Monk. Is, in fact, the same person. (Chirrut still likes to gleefully send him text strings from shadow ‘net forums regarding wild conspiracy theories pulling together highly improbable shreds of evidence to pinpoint the entirely wrong person as the identity of The Monk’s Protector.)

As Chirrut’s daring deeds spread across cyberspace, undermining corporate structures, propping up rebellions, sabotaging exploitative operations, declawing predators and giving teeth to prey, so too does the manhunt for The Monk. Over the years, Baze stops taking as many merc jobs that require him to leave Chirrut’s side, because he simply cannot trust that his partner won’t hook into the ‘net while he’s gone, dancing with wild abandon across the strands of the matrix that runs their world. And, incidentally, leaving himself a completely empty physical shell lying comatose amongst cushions on the floor of their shared apartment. A heavily fortified apartment, but still.

After one particularly long week, which features three highway chases, four days of hopping from safehouse to safehouse, thirty hired hitmen (spaced out over the week), too much expended ammunition to bear thinking about, and a fuckload of cleanup - flesh-eating nanobots do not come cheap, let me tell you, and neither do plasma cartridges - Baze decides to say something.

“You could at least take a few paying jobs, since I can’t anymore,” he grumbles while he takes one of his guns apart for maintenance. “Thanks to you,” he adds, because sometimes it takes many repetitions of an idea for Chirrut to come to grips with it.

“Yes, we will eventually starve. Soon I will be nothing but an insubstantial ghost, just a spirit swaying in the digital breeze, blown wherever the matrix wills it. I think I’d make quite an attractive ghost, don’t you think?” Chirrut says, leaning back from his meditation pose and stretching, tilting his chin up and exposing a delicious stretch of throat that has Baze clamping down on a highly annoyed spark of lust. “You, on the other hand, would make for quite a large lump of a corpse, come to think of it. Hmm.”

Baze snorts. “You didn’t act like you were kissing a corpse last night,” he says, and Chirrut waves a hand.

“No, no, you’re right. I prefer you in non-corpse-form. Very well then,” and he unfolds with the startling grace that he has - the same physical capability that’s stymied more than one assassin expecting an infirm, out-of-shape hacker - and bounds over to fold into Baze’s lap, who hastily retracts the gun into his arm compartment. Chirrut cups his cheek, running light fingers over exposed metal ridges and surgery scarring. “For you, my beloved, I will take a paying contract. How much should the Monk charge for his services, I wonder?”

Baze raises an eyebrow under Chirrut’s hand, not bothering to conceal his surprise at his partner’s easy capitulation. “For you? You could probably ask for anything you want. Couple million creds, to start with, and going up from there.”

Chirrut’s pupils contract in the way that indicates he’s pulling something up on his internal HUD. “I have here a humble request,” he says, stretching out the word ‘humble.’ “From someone designating herself Mon Mothma. Came in just a few hours ago.”

Baze raises his other eyebrow. Mon Mothma of Alliance Corp? Everyone in the shadow world knows by now it’s just a front for one of the many proletarian movements seeking to break the grip of the oligarchy. Ironic that she’s funding it with wealth gained through her own corporation. But she can pay handsomely.

Chirrut bends forward to kiss his eyebrows. “I take it you approve.”

“You’ve vetted it already,” Baze says.

Chirrut scoffs. “You could have left that thought unvoiced and saved yourself the energy,” he says, and Baze rolls his eyes.

“When’s the verification meeting?”

“Tomorrow, in the Prosperity District. At a very nice café for the finest tea in the region, the reviews tell me.”

Right in the heart of downtown, in the shadow of every major Megacorp skyscraper in the SPTG. Baze sighs. “I’ll get out your good suit. Try not to get yourself killed.”

“Mon Mothma asked for you, too. By name.” Chirrut smiles radiantly, inordinately pleased for no reason Baze can think of.

He grunts and wraps his hands around Chirrut’s waist. “We’ll have to pull the rich-asshole-and-his-bodyguard act again.” Baze’s visible modifications aren’t unusual in the bowels of the city, down at street level, but would stand out as unspeakably gauche if he tried to pass himself off as a plutocrat on the 200th floor of some shiny fuck-off corporate complex.

“If we must,” Chirrut dismisses. Then he pushes Baze flat on the floor and slides down, grin glittering wickedly, and proceeds to make Baze prove - repeatedly - that he is very much, definitely, decidedly not a corpse.

(Sidenote: Baze does in fact own a super rad cyberpunk motorcycle that leaves neon streaks in the darkness when he and Chirrut ride through the rain-soaked alleys of their city, because the Rule Of Cool turned the knob up to 11 on this pair, and everyone knows it.)

#spiritassassin #baze x chirrut #chirrut x baze #cyberpunk AU #rogue one #star wars fanfiction #by lazaefair

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jamaninja · 7 years

Text

Olicity fanfic: Fifty bucks says, Chapter 3

Word count: 7,229 Rating: Teen Chapters: 3/3 Summary: Digg and Tommy are going to learn not to go up against a Queen.

Author’s note: I'm sorry it's a day late! But I think you guys will like it. ;)

Also, happy birthday to the lovely Holly, AKA @geniewithwifi! I hope you had an amazing day. <3

Read on: AO3 | ff.net

Chapter 3

Eighteen months

Verdant had only been open for three months, but it had swiftly become one of the most popular restaurants in all of Starling City.

Sure, the initial drive for business probably had something to do with the fact that three billionaire scions were behind the idea and concept, but at most John expected that the combined Merlyn-Queen starpower had only brought in about a month’s worth of business.

The rest of it, he was absolutely certain, was thanks to the hard work all four partners had put into the restaurant. Tommy and Thea had created a gorgeous dining room and dining experience out in the front of the house. John was responsible for what one Yelper had called “the most addictive cocktails on the West Coast.”

And then there was Oliver. No one in the city had really expected his food to be any good, but when everyone found out just how good it was, they couldn’t get enough.

All in all, they were on track to turn a profit at the end of the year, which was far better than all of their projections. And John had scarcely been prouder of any other enterprise he had ever undertaken.

He had just finished clearing all the tickets that came his way near the end of the dinner rush when he heard someone climb onto the barstool behind him.

“Be right with you,” he called.

“No worries, Digg, it’s just me.”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw Felicity shrugging off her coat. When he was finished with his task he turned toward her.

“Hey, baby girl,” he greeted her with a smile. “You want anything?”

“I’ll take a glass of Merlot,” she answered.

That made John frown almost immediately. Being a bartender and also Felicity’s friend meant he could tell her moods based on what drink she ordered. Merlot was her sad and/or pensive drink.

“You want to talk about it?” he said as he pulled a glass from underneath the bar and started pouring.

She sighed, then plopped her head on the arms she rested on the bar. She stayed like that for a long time before finally answering, “I got offered a promotion today.”

John’s mouth widened into a smile. “Felicity, that’s great news! Congratulations!”

She grunted. “The thing is, I don’t know if I’ll take it.”

His frown returned once he realized that her reaction was way less than what he had expected. “OK, correct me if I’m wrong, but you were always complaining about how your talent is wasted on the job you have now. Why are you acting so glum? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

She lifted her head and dragged the glass of wine closer to her. “It is what I wanted,” she muttered as she took a sip. “This is supposed to be a dream come true.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Felicity ran her fingertip over the rim of her glass as she contemplated her answer. Then, just as she opened her mouth to give her reply, the kitchen doors burst open.

“There she is!” Oliver shouted as he pointed at her, a huge smile lighting up his face. “Diggle, you are looking at the newest projects director of the Applied Sciences division of Queen Consolidated!”

Felicity’s eyes widened in shock behind her glasses. “H-How did you hear about it?” she stuttered.

With a jubilant laugh, the chef ran around the bar to his roommate and gave her a big hug. “My mom called to tell me. Congratulations, Felicity! I’m so proud of you!”

John watched as the poor girl stiffened in her roommate’s embrace before reluctantly reaching up to return the hug. Something also clouded over in her eyes and it made him wonder just why she wasn’t as excited about this promotion as Oliver was.

“But I haven’t accepted yet,” she protested.

Oliver pulled away from the embrace and waved away her words. “But you will! And when you do, we’re going to celebrate. Do you want to throw a party? We could throw it here. Or we could have a dinner party on Sunday. Or if you’re as tired of this place as I am, we could go to Table Salt.”

Felicity’s jaw went slack in slight horror. “Oh, we don’t have to do any of that,” she insisted hurriedly. “Really, Oliver, it’s not that big a deal.”

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed. “This is a huge deal! You’re finally going to be doing a job that’s worthy of your skillset. You’re finally going to get paid at least a fraction of what you’re worth! This is the first step to you finally taking over the whole Applied Sciences division, like you’ve always dreamed! And that deserves a celebration!”

John snorted under his breath. Not that he didn’t disagree with anything Oliver had said — he was just baffled that he hadn’t won the damn bet yet.

She tried again. “Oliver, I really don’t think — ”

But she didn’t get the chance to finish what she thought, because at that moment, Roy stuck his head out of the kitchen door. “Yo, boss! We need you in here!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a second!” Then Oliver turned back to his roommate, his face still excited. “Don’t leave, OK? We’re closing in a few hours, and afterward we can sit down and plan your celebration.”

Felicity closed her eyes in exhaustion, like it was killing her to even be sitting there. But when she opened her eyes again, she had pasted a big smile to her face and nodded.

“Sure. I’ll stay.”

Oliver grinned back at her and gave her one last hug before turning to go back to the kitchen.

Once he was gone, her smile immediately fell as she turned back to the bar and her glass of merlot. “Well this is just great,” she muttered to herself.

John frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Felicity, what’s the matter? Why are you so bummed about this promotion?”

She reached up to pull her glasses off her face and pinch the bridge over her nose between her eyes. “They want me to lead the projects team based in Coast City. Meaning if I took the job, I’d have to leave Starling.”

John’s froze at Felicity’s news. As he struggled to process the words that came out of her mouth, she grabbed her wineglass and chugged its contents.

“Are you serious?” he demanded.

She nodded miserably as she set down the empty glass. “Oliver’s mom was the one who suggested it. She said the Coast City team needs a cyber security expert, and I would be perfect. If I took the job, I’d start by the end of next month, which should give me ‘sufficient time to find adequate living arrangements.’”

The thought of Felicity leaving Starling was about as welcome to John as an emergency root canal. He’d only known the woman for little more than a year, but in that time she’d become one of his closest friends, and she’d been there to support all four of them in their restaurant endeavors, Oliver most especially. If it hadn’t been for her, John doubted Oliver would have gone through with the thing at all.

He automatically reached for the bottle of wine and refilled Felicity’s glass.

“So what are you going to do?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “On the one hand, this promotion could mean big things for my career. But…”

“But you don’t want to leave,” he finished for her.

She nodded miserably. “I love it here. I have friends here. I have a life here. This is...this is the first place I feel like I’ve ever really belonged.”

John didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t under any delusions: Felicity had always been very focused on her career. If it came right down to the wire, he didn’t have any doubts that she’d pick the promotion over staying in Starling City.

But it didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be painful for everyone else to watch her go.

And God, he couldn’t even imagine what Oliver was going to do. The boy was so head over heels in love with his roommate that he knew it would crush his friend, far more than anything else in the world had the power to do.

Eventually, a group of new tickets came to the bar and John was once again swept up in the pace of his work. But every muscle in his body tensed with the tick of the clock, knowing that once Verdant’s doors were closed, he would have to watch a bomb drop.

By ten o’clock, the kitchen had shut down for the night, and Felicity had downed three glasses of merlot. She was swaying in her stool a little and John was keeping a close eye on her.

Once the staff had finished cleaning everything, Oliver emerged from the double doors and took the stool next to his roommate.

“So?” he asked. “Have you given anymore thought about the party?”

John, who had been wiping down the counters, flinched at his friend’s words. Now that he knew why Felicity was so reticent to celebrate this promotion, Oliver’s enthusiasm just felt like some cruel, ironic joke.

Before she could answer, Tommy and Thea chose that moment to come out of office.

“Party?” Tommy called as he approached the bar. “Is someone reserving the restaurant for a function?”

“No, the party’s for Felicity,” Oliver beamed.

Tommy quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t we already celebrate your birthday a couple months ago? I might not remember a lot from that night, but I remember that much, at least.”

“It’s to celebrate her promotion,” Oliver explained. “She’s finally getting recognized for her work, and I figure that’s as good an excuse as any for us to have a party.”

John’s jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself from frowning. God, this was excruciating — waiting for the other shoe to drop was killing him.

He watched as Felicity tried once again to explain herself, her face a little redder than it was before (though John suspected that was partly thanks to the alcohol). But yet again, she was interrupted before she could even get the words out.

“So you’re taking it?” Thea squealed with excitement as she rushed forward to give the other woman a hug. “Oh, this is so exciting! I’ll take next weekend off to go up with you and look for apartments. I haven’t been to Coast City in ages.”

Felicity froze in Thea’s embrace, and John stilled at the implication of Thea’s words.

She knew.

And immediately, John was suspicious. If she knew and she was excited about her brother’s roommate moving to another city, then surely she was up to something.

Oliver, on the other hand, was still confused. “What in the world are you talking about? Why are you going to Coast City?”

Felicity’s eyes were glassy behind her glasses as she turned back to her roommate. “That’s where the job is,” she said quietly.

John watched the shock freeze on Oliver’s face, and a wave of pity overtook him.

“Wait a minute,” Tommy interjected, pointing a suspicious finger at Thea. “How did you know about it?”

“Mom told me when we had lunch today,” she shrugged. Then she turned back to Felicity. “So? What do you say? We’ll have a girl’s day in Coast City. We’ll go to all the hot spots after we finish apartment hunting. It’ll be so much fun, I promise!”

Felicity, who was still looking at Oliver with a searching expression, simply nodded. “Um, sure. That would be great.”

An awkward silence descended on all of them. John avoided the glances Oliver and Felicity were sending each other by straightening the bottles of liquor behind him.

Finally, Felicity broke the quiet.

“I should...I should get going. I called for an Uber a few minutes ago and it says he’ll be here any minute, so…”

“I could give you a ride home, if you want,” Oliver offered quietly.

She shook her head. “No. Um, thanks though. I just need some time. Alone. With my thoughts. I’ll see you when you come home, OK?”

And with one last reassuring pat on his shoulder, she slid off the barstool and walked out of the restaurant.

Another long silence stretched over them as they listened to the clicking of Felicity’s heels fade away into the distance. It was a testament to the strength of her personality that they could all still feel her presence after she had walked away.

“I have to check on something in the kitchen,” Oliver murmured, before turning around and heading through the double doors next to the bar.

The minute he was gone, Tommy rounded on Thea. “And just what game are you playing here?” he demanded.

“Game?” she repeated innocently. “I’m not playing any game!”

“Bullshit,” John shot back, his gigantic arms crossed over his broad chest. “You’re up to something with this. I can tell. No way are you this excited for Felicity to move away to another city.”

Thea just smirked at the two of them before shrugging on her sweater. “Well, I guess you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” And with that she turned on her heel and disappeared, the same way Felicity left.

Tommy shook his head after the younger Queen disappeared. “This is some kind of joke, right? Like we’ll wake up tomorrow and realize that none of this is actually happening.”

John didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he dropped his arms and made long strides toward the kitchen, throwing open the swinging double doors to see Oliver standing in the middle of a spotless room of stainless steel cooking equipment, looking completely lost.

“She’s leaving,” he said. “Felicity’s leaving.”

He’d never seen his friend like this. Sure, Oliver had his moments of uncertainty, just like everyone else. But this...this was hopelessness. And John hated it.

“Oliver, man, now it’s more important than ever,” he said, his voice slightly urgent. “You have to tell her how you feel about her.”

The chef turned his head to stare blankly at his friend, like he could hardly register what John had just said. Like the thought was completely foreign to him in that moment.

“Listen to me,” he said, closing the distance between the two of them and clapping a hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “I know you were worried about making it weird between the two of you, but this is the last chance you have.”

It wasn’t even about the bet anymore. John knew Oliver, and he knew that if he just let her go without at least telling her, he’d regret it forever. And though he was convinced that Felicity didn’t feel anything for Oliver in return, John was also convinced that his friend had to take this chance.

“I...I don’t know if I can just put myself out there like that,” he whispered.

“What have you got to lose? If she doesn’t feel the same way, she’ll move to Coast City. If she does feel the same way, she might stay.”

“But this is her dream! I can’t be the one to keep her from that!”

John wasn’t convinced. “You can find a million excuses not to tell her how you really feel, but you only need one reason to bite the bullet and do it. And that reason is that you don’t want to live your life with any regrets. This might just be your biggest one.”

Oliver rubbed his calloused hands over his face. When they fell away, John noticed a tiny glint of something in his eyes. It looked a little like determination.

“I think you’re right,” he said quietly.

“I know I am,” John grinned. “Come on, man. I’ll pour you a scotch before I take you home.”

Oliver closed his eyes as John led him back to the bar. “Home. It’s only home when she’s there. Without her, it’s just an empty apartment.”

John nodded. “I suggest you lead with that.”

Two days later

It was in the middle of the dinner rush at Verdant, but Tommy was safely ensconced in the office on the second floor. He could hear the dull thrum of dining room chatter that had, in the few months they’d been open, become a soothing sound for him.

Never would he have guessed that he would consider this restaurant his second home.

As Tommy pored over the spreadsheets, he heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he called.

The doorknob turned and he saw Felicity walking in, looking absolutely exhausted.

“Hey,” she greeted with a tired smile. “Thea asked me to come over to update the restaurant’s system. Is that OK?”

Tommy looked bewildered at her rumpled state, but he got up from his seat anyway. “Yeah, of course. You’re the expert. Besides, it’ll probably be the last time we get some free IT support for a while, right?”

A shadow fell over her eyes and Tommy realized belatedly that it was probably the wrong thing to say.

“Thanks,” she said as she took the seat he vacated and turned to the computer.

As she worked, he plopped down on the couch across from the desk. Of all the furniture in the entire restaurant, it was by far the grungiest, but mostly because Oliver used it as a place to grab a quick nap in between prep time and meal services.

“So,” Tommy began after a few minutes. “You wanna tell me why you look like crap?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s hard to believe that you were once voted Starling City’s Most Charming.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying. You don’t look like your usual, put-together self. Instead you look like that morning after New Year’s when Thea dragged us all out to celebrate with Roy.”

Felicity let out a sigh. “It’s just...stress. From work and stuff.”

He clucked his tongue. “Would ‘stuff’ also be code for ‘Ollie?’”

She flinched at his name and Tommy knew he hit the nail on the head.

Absentmindedly, he picked at the loose threads of the throw pillows. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She didn’t say anything for a long time and for a moment, he thought that was his answer. But then finally she spoke.

“To be honest, I thought I’d talk about it with Oliver first, not you,” she murmured as she clicked around on the monitors in front of her. “But he’s been avoiding me ever since he found out about the promotion being in Coast City and now...now I don’t know what to do.”

He nodded. “Not to sound too...shrink-like, but how does that make you feel?”

To Tommy’s utter horror, tears started to pool in the corners of her eyes. She swiped them away before they got the chance to escape.

“He’s supposed to be my friend,” she whispered. “Even though I know he doesn’t feel the same way I do, I thought he’d at least be a little sad that I had to move away. But now he won’t talk to me, he won’t look at me. He looks for excuses not to be in the same space as me. It’s like I don’t exist anymore and it just...it hurts.”

Despite what some of Tommy’s ex flings might have said, he had a heart, and it was aching as he watched his friend cry over his best friend.

He got up from the couch and started rubbing circles over Felicity’s shoulders in what he hoped was a reassuring motion. “Hey, it’s going to be OK. You know that, right?”

She sniffed. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

He waited a little while for her tears to subside. Then he started again.

“You know what I think you should do before you leave?”

“What?”

“I think you should tell him how you feel. Tell him that you’re in love with him.”

She scoffed as she wiped her eyes again. “Are you kidding? That sounds like the worst idea in the world. If he’s ignoring me now, can you imagine how much worse it’ll be if I tell him?”

He wasn’t even thinking about the bet anymore. In that instant, all he cared about was helping his friend come into her own.

“Lis, you can’t leave Starling City without telling him,” Tommy insisted. “He deserves to know. And you deserve the chance to tell him how you feel. To get it off your chest. You have to let it go before you can move on.”

She sniffed again as she considered his words.

“How do you figure it’ll help me move on?”

“Because you’ll get closure. If he feels the same way as you do, then great. But if he doesn’t, then you’ll know you did everything you could. And you won’t be hanging onto what-ifs for the rest of your life.”

She looked up at him with something that looked like surprise lighting in her eyes. “When did you get so smart?”

He chuckled. “I’ve always been smart. People were just always underestimating me.”

That made her laugh a little, but the grin disappeared as quickly as it came.

“I’m scared,” she whispered. “I’m scared to tell him.”

He could totally see where she was coming from. If he were in her shoes, he’d be scared shitless and would be running in the other direction.

But Felicity was stronger than he was.

“I know. That’s only normal.”

She sighed and leaned back in the chair to stare up at the ceiling. “You’re right though. The worst that could happen is he doesn’t feel the same way, and I move to Coast City. What do I have to lose?”

“Nothing.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled. Then, in a move so fast it almost made him a little dizzy, she stood from the chair and straightened her back, like she was getting ready to go into battle.

“I’m going to do it.”

Tommy’s innards clenched in excitement. “Good!” he encouraged.

Then she grabbed his arm as she walked toward the door. “You’re coming with me.”

And just like that, Tommy’s smile immediately fell away.

Sure, he wanted Felicity to tell Ollie how she felt. But he didn’t want to be there to witness the heartbreak. “Wait, you’re going to tell him now? Here? While he’s working?”

“If I tell him here, then he can’t run away from me,” she said as she dragged him out of the office and down the stairs. “I’m not going to give him the opportunity to walk away from me this time. He’s going to hear what I have to say whether he likes it or not.”

Tommy grimaced. While her logic was sound, it still didn’t make him want to stick around to watch her inevitable humiliation.

It was still early in the service, so there weren’t many people in the dining room watching as Felicity dragged Tommy by the arm through the entire restaurant. But the few people who were there watched in surprise as the tiny blonde tramped through the serene room with a look of pure determination on her face.

“Felicity, please,” Tommy begged. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

She turned to glare at him. “It was your idea in the first place.”

“My idea was to tell him you love him, not hold him hostage with you feelings in his restaurant during the middle of dinner service!” he hissed.

She ignored him as she ventured on.

Once they reached the bar, Digg greeted them with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Hey, guys. Are you OK?”

“We’re fine, Digg. We just want to see Oliver. He in the kitchen?”

“Yeah,” he answered slowly. “We’re about to hit a dinner rush, though.”

“It won’t take long,” she said, and it made Tommy grimace.

She walked around the bar toward the swinging double doors and pushed her way through. But the minutes he was on the other side, she froze, forcing Tommy to bump into her from behind.

The kitchen looked like it always did in the middle of a dinner service. The kitchen staff swooped around the expansive room, tossing things in searing hot pans and tending to cooking meat on the grill. They yelled over the din of cooking sounds, demanding one thing or another or warning of something hot coming up right behind them.

But in the midst of all this chaos, Oliver stood in the center, bending over a prep table with a look of concentration on his face as he dressed the plates getting ready to go out to the dining room. If anyone had ever doubted he belonged in a kitchen, all they had to do was see him in one. It was his natural habitat as he handled delicate plates, squeezed tiny, controlled droplets of some sauce from a bottle.

His name denoted royalty, and that kitchen was his kingdom.

When Tommy realized that there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, he tapped Felicity lightly on her stiff shoulder.

“Felicity? You OK?” he asked her.

Oliver heard his voice, and he looked up from the plate he was dressing. Then he froze when he saw Tommy and Felicity in his kitchen.

“Hey,” he said in breathless surprise.

Tommy heard her swallow. “Hi,” she answered in a raspy voice.

In an instant, Oliver left his station and wiped his hands on the towel tied to his waist. “Uh, Felicity, I — ”

Her name must have shaken her out of her stupor, because she pulled herself together and steeled her spine as she looked up at her roommate. “I need to talk to you,” she said in a voice that left no room for compromise.

Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I need to talk to you too.”

And just like that, she was thrown off again.

“You...you do?” she said after a long pause.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I have to tell you something important. But, um...I can’t do it here, OK? I was thinking we could talk about it when I get home?”

Felicity blinked a few times, and Tommy could tell she was torn between blurting it out right then and there or waiting until she got home to hear what he had to say.

“You’re really going to talk to me?” she said with a suspicious tone. “You’re not going to avoid me or ignore me or pretend like I don’t exist?”

He shook his head. “I promise.”

Tommy frowned at the intensity in his best friend’s eyes. There weren’t a lot of things outside of a kitchen that could make Ollie look like that, and it made him wonder just what exactly he wanted to say to Felicity.

She chewed on her lip as she considered his words. Then, she took a deep breath and nodded. “OK. We’ll talk when you get home.”

The tension seeped out of Tommy the minute she agreed. He wouldn’t have to watch her heart get broken after all. What a massive relief.

“Great,” Ollie smiled. “Then...well, I have to get back to work. But I should be home by midnight.”

“I’ll wait up for you,” she promised.

He reached forward and quickly grasped her hand with his. With one last grin in her direction, he turned around and went back to work. Tommy and Felicity watched for a few minutes as he re-immersed himself in his cooking, then walked back out through the swinging double doors.

“What do you think he wants to tell you?” Tommy asked the minute the kitchen doors swung closed behind them.

“I don’t know,” Felicity sighed, her brow furrowed a little in concern. “But it can’t be bad, right?”

With the nervous way Ollie had been smiling, Tommy was pretty sure it was supposed to be something good. But then again, his definition of good news was sometimes a little skewed.

“I hope so,” Tommy answered. “But whatever it is, good or bad, I think you’ll be OK.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think you’re right. I guess I better go, though. If I’m going to tell him how I feel, I think it’ll be easier after I’ve had a couple of glasses of cabernet, first.”

“Hey, whatever you need to make it through. I believe in you, Smoak.”

She smiled at him, then leaned up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Thanks, Merlyn. I owe you one.”

He grinned back. “Any time.”

Once she left, Tommy took up the empty stool at the end of the bar, and Digg slid a tumbler of scotch in front of him. “And what was that?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Tommy answered as he smirked at his friend over the rim of his glass. “Just me winning the bet is all.”

Digg snorted. “Oh really?”

“Really.”

He just shook his head. “We’ll see about that.”

The next day

Thea Queen pulled into the underground parking structure of her brother’s apartment building, right next to Tommy’s Mercedes. They waved at each other before climbing out of their respective cars.

“You have any idea what this is about?” Tommy asked.

Felicity had texted Tommy, John and Thea at ten o’clock that morning, asking them to come to the apartment because she had a big announcement. Considering that everyone already knew about the promotion, her news must have been something different, and Thea had an inkling about what it might be.

But then again, she was never the kind of person to get ahead of herself.

“Nope,” she answered with a hint of a smile.

The two of them walked to the elevator together and rode it all the way to Ollie’s floor. But by when they got to the apartment, they saw Digg standing outside the door with a brow furrowed in confusion.

“Hey,” Tommy called to Digg as they approached. “What are you doing just standing out here?”

“I’ve been knocking on their door for ten minutes now, and they still haven’t answered,” he replied with a frown. “And I don’t hear any noises coming from inside. I don’t even know if they’re home.”

Thea pursed her lips in thought. “Huh. Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

She pulled her keys out of her purse and singled out the spare key Oliver had given her when he first moved in.

“I thought that was for emergencies only,” Tommy reminded her.

“This is an emergency,” Thea answered. “They could be in serious trouble. We have to make sure neither one of them are hurt.”

She unlocked the door and the three of them walked into the apartment. Thea heard a rustling noise coming from the kitchen, so she slowly made her way toward the room.

The sight that greeted her, though unsurprising, was something she wished she’d never had to see. Ever.

Felicity was perched on the edge of the island counter, while Oliver was pressed up against her, standing between her legs. His hands were splayed across her bottom and his mouth was on hers, like he was practically glued there.

“Oh my God,” Tommy gasped.

At the sound of someone else in the apartment, the two of them sprang apart.

“Well I guess neither of them are hurt,” Thea said in slight amusement.

Felicity blushed as she hopped down from the counter and Oliver looked down sheepishly as he straightened his rumpled shirt.

Tommy and Digg, on the other hand, were frozen in complete shock.

“So, uh...wanna explain what’s going on here?” Thea asked.

Oliver and Felicity exchanged loaded glances. Then she reached forward and took his hand in hers, their fingers laced together.

Thea couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.

“I’m staying here in Starling City after all,” Felicity announced. “When I told Moira that I didn’t want to move to Coast City, she told me that there was an opening for a projects manager position for the team in Starling and she offered it to me.”

“Is that all you wanted to tell us?” Thea asked with raised eyebrows.

Felicity coughed. “No,” she blushed, and Oliver chuckled.

“We’ve also...we’ve also decided to start a relationship,” he added.

Tommy and Digg were still both speechless, but Thea — who saw the whole thing coming from a mile away — stepped forward to give her big brother a hug.

“That’s really great news,” she beamed at him. When she released him, she turned to Felicity for another hug. “I’m so happy for the two of you.”

“Thanks, Thea,” Felicity grinned back. “We were a little nervous about telling you guys, but I’m glad you approve.”

Oliver, however, was still anxiously watching Tommy and Digg’s shocked reactions. “Guys, I know this is kind of big and we sort of sprung this on you, but I promise, this is a good thing. We’re both really happy.”

Digg finally shook off his surprise and gave him a shaky smile. “Uh, yeah. Good for you, man. If you’re happy then we’re happy. This is really fantastic news.”

He nudged Tommy in the side with his elbow and the other man nodded dumbly.

“Great,” Felicity grinned. “So then let’s go out to lunch celebrate? It’s on me.”

The three of them agreed and with that, Oliver and Felicity went back to their rooms to change and get ready to go out. Once they were alone, Thea turned a smirk to both of her friends.

“I do believe this means I won the bet,” she crowed.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “You had this whole thing planned, didn’t you? You and Moira. That Coast City job was a ruse the whole time.”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Thea sniffed.

Digg scoffed. “You haven’t won yet.”

“Yes I have!” she protested. “They’re together! They’re in a relationship! That means I won and now you both owe me two hundred dollars!”

“No,” Digg shot back. “Your bet was that they’d both realize they had feelings for each other — ”

“Exactly! So I won!”

Digg continued like he hadn’t been interrupted. “And that they would live happily ever after! If they break up, then you still lose!”

Thea narrowed her eyes. “You dirty cheat.”

“Takes one to know one.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Digg. “Fine. But the minute they get engaged, I win.”

“Assuming they even make it that far,” Digg smirked.

Thea rolled her eyes. If they wanted to play the long game, then that was fine. She could wait as long as they wanted, because she knew her brother better than anyone. And she knew for a fact that he was in love with Felicity Smoak, and that would never, ever change.

Three years later

All of Starling City’s elite was gathered in the dining room at Verdant. All but one.

Thea Queen was holed up in the office on the second floor, furiously scribbling on the sheets of paper in front of her.

In fact, she was so focused that she didn’t even look up when the door to the office opened.

“Babe?” Roy called from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to finish this,” she muttered, her tongue caught between her teeth. “Don’t worry, I’ll be down there in a second.”

Roy stepped forward from the doorway and walked behind the desk to press a kiss on the top of his girlfriend’s head. “You’re not worried, are you? You’re going to be great.”

She frowned as she crossed out a huge line of text. “It’s not just enough to be great, Roy. I want this to be perfect.”

“I’m sure it will be,” he said soothingly. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

She sighed before finally looking up from her paper. “Look, I’m almost done, OK? Just go back down there. I’ll be right behind you.”

He chuckled and pecked her on the lips. “Whatever you say, babe.” And with that he left her alone to finish her speech.

Once she was alone, Thea looked back down on what she had already written. She ran a frustrated hand through her brown hair as she read and reread every line. Was it big enough? Was it important enough? Did it convey exactly what she wanted to convey?

She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She knew that this event wasn’t for her: it was for her brother and Felicity. But she wanted to make sure that her speech was the perfect balance of funny and sentimental. She wanted to make sure that it was worthy for both of them, two of the people she loved most in the world.

They deserved that much.

Twenty minutes later, she folded up the sheafs of paper and tucked it into the pocket of her lacy green cocktail dress. Then she descended the stairs to join the festivities.

The decorations were grander than any other event Verdant had ever put on. The ceiling was swathed in large bolts of silver and royal blue fabric. The centerpieces at every table were huge towers of white roses on deep blue tablecloths. And the candles that lined the space added to the intimacy of the lighting, making the whole place glow with warmth.

Moira walked up to her daughter once she spotted her and tucked her arm in hers. “Darling, have you seen your brother?” she asked.

Thea shook her head. “He’s probably in the kitchen yelling at the catering staff,” she joked.

Moira chuckled. “Very well. I’ll just have one of the serving staff drag him away.”

Just as the Queen matriarch said that, the double doors that led to the kitchen swung open and Oliver stumbled through, followed closely by a scowling Felicity.

“I was just trying to — ” he started, but she cut him off.

“I don’t care what you were trying to do,” she said firmly. “You’re supposed to be the celebrant tonight, not the caterer. Let them do their jobs.”

“But — ”

“Oliver, if I have to drag you out of that kitchen one more time, you will be sleeping on the couch for the rest of the week.”

He muttered something under his breath as he glared at her mutinously, but Felicity returned his look with the sternest look she could muster. Then, he rolled his eyes and took her hand, and together they ventured into the crowd.

Moira turned to her daughter with an amused grin. “I should have known Felicity would take care of it.”

Thea laughed at that.

The cocktail hour went by without further incident, and soon all the guests were seated at their tables for the dinner. Thea sat at the center table with her parents Roy and Ollie and Felicity. They all made pleasant conversation, and much to everyone’s surprise, Oliver didn’t have a single bad thing to say about the food.

Once the entrees were cleared out and the waiting staff was refilling everyone’s water, Thea took that as her cue.

With a deep breath, she stood from her seat and made her way to the front of the room on the small dais where the jazz band was seated. The conductor handed her the microphone and she pulled out the sheets of paper from her pocket.

“Good evening, everyone,” she greeted. “I want to thank you all for coming tonight, to help us celebrate my brother’s engagement to his lovely fiancee, Felicity Smoak.”

Everyone turned to clap politely in the couple’s direction. Oliver grinned at Felicity and the two of them leaned forward for a soft kiss.

“As you all know, I am Thea Queen, and I have known Ollie my entire life. He has been my protector, my mentor and one of my best friends, and I couldn’t have asked for a better brother in the world.”

The room made the appropriate aww-ing noises and Oliver sent a soft smile at his sister.

“I’ve always been Ollie’s biggest fan, and because of this, I never really thought that there was anyone worthy of him. While the rest of the world believed he was nothing but an irresponsible playboy, I knew better. I knew that he was kind and generous, and he would do anything for the people he loved. I also knew that it would take a special woman to deserve that kind of dedication, and I was almost halfway convinced that she didn’t exist.

“That is, until I met Felicity Smoak.”

Felicity blushed and ducked her head as Oliver chuckled.

“When I first met Felicity, she was nothing like I expected. She was just some blonde nerd who agreed to be my brother’s roommate. But in their first six months of living together, she fought him over boxes of instant mac ‘n’ cheese and she yelled at him for tossing his wet towels all over the bathroom. In fact, Tommy, John and I even had a bet going to see how long it would take for her to get fed up with my brother and move out.”

Everyone chuckled.

“But the more I got to know Felicity, the more I realized that she was tougher than anyone I’d ever met before. And that was when I realized that she might actually be the one to deserve him.

“I came to this realization one night, here at Verdant, before it even was Verdant. John, Tommy and I were all stressed out about all the millions of decisions we had to make and Ollie even more so. He’d been snapping at everyone for weeks, but the minute Felicity came in, calmed him down. He was at peace in her presence, and that was when I knew that they were in love.”

Thea saw tears well up in Felicity’s eyes and she reached up to quickly wipe them away. Oliver smiled down at her with the most tender expression and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“My brother is one of the best people I know, but knowing Felicity made him even better. And now they’re going to spend the rest of their lives together.”

She folded up her speech and stuck it back in her pocket. Then she raised her glass of champagne.

“So please, join me in raising a glass to Oliver and Felicity. May you two live happily ever after.”

She emphasized the last three words of her toast and everyone else repeated it.

She glanced at Tommy and Digg out of the corner of her eye to see them both scowling at her, but she hid her smirk by lifting the flute to her lips.

Everyone applauded politely after the toast and she walked back to her table to give the happy couple a hug.

“Thank you, Speedy,” Ollie whispered in her ear.

“You’re the best sister-in-law a girl could ever ask for,” Felicity murmured.

She grinned back at them and pressed a kiss on both their cheeks before walking over to Tommy and Digg’s table.

“So,” she said imperiously, her hand out. “Fork it over, losers.”

They exchanged mutinous glances, but then reached into their pockets for their wallets.

“Face it, Thea, you just got lucky,” Tommy muttered under his breath.

She smirked. “Haven’t you learned by now, Tommy? I’m always right.”

@blackcanarydinah @puddintan3 @redpenbluebox @almondblossomme @spaztronautwriter @miriam1779 @sweetme86

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[SF] Vaporwave Therapy for the Weak-Willed... Or, simply: Stronger

Dallas folded the paper note back up and placed it on his night stand before falling to sleep. It lay there, next to him, all night. When he woke up, it stayed there on his nightstand while he took his shower, got dressed, and eventually headed to work. When he locked his door and closed it on his way out, the note was still laying there, a small piece of paper, folded in half.

His drive to work felt normal. Dallas got to be himself, play the soundtrack to his morning and let it drive him. He nodded his head and sang too loud with the windows down. He smiled out the window at the sun. Today would be different. He would make sure of it.

“Good evening, doctor!” Athena cheerily greeted Dallas as he walked into the lobby of the 91st floor.

“It’s the morning, Athena…” Dallas said, pausing.

“I’m sorry doctor, Daylight Savings Time always seems to throw my programming off, I will re-synch my internal clock to the company server’s clock immediately. Additionally, Mr. Fukunaga left a message on your voicemail approximately half an hour ago. I will make sure it autoplays as soon as you get into your office.”

“Thanks Athena, do you know when my first appointment is?”

“Ahh yes, doctor, your first appointment is… No wait, that is Doctor Horvath… Hmm, that one as well… It looks like he is actually taking three this upcoming hour, I had no idea how he plans to do that… Goldfarb, Dukes, and Kerfling. You don’t have one until 12 actually… However, I will make sure that you take priority on the queue for any walk-ins this hour as it seems that all fourteen of the other doctors are booked.”

Dallas momentarily clenched a fist that he released instantly. Today wouldn’t be like yesterday.

“Thank you, Athena.”

Dallas headed to his office, he hung his jacket on the hook behind the door as he shut it behind him. It was only a small space, an eight foot by eight foot square, but it was his space. And he had hanged up three different signed prints of the Simpsons, now on its 105th season. Besides, how many other precocious 26 year old Cyber Therapists had their own office? Probably not many. Dallas actually didn’t know. He and his friend Kit, who was also another therapist here, had both gone to school together. So, in this building, definitely only those two. The small office was cool.

Like Athena had said, Mr. Fukunaga’s message began to play as soon as he got to his desk.

“Good morning Doctor, this is your boss, Charles Fukunaga. Ahem, yes, well, after our conversation yesterday, I trust that you will be working your hardest this week to meet the expectations summary that I Net-Messaged over to you. I’ll be checking in with you later to see how things are going so expect another call. Fukunaga out.”

Dallas sat at his desk for a moment, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. One hand slowly clenched and unclenched over and over for a minute.

Goddamnit.

A short knock rapped at his door followed by the door opening almost immediately.

“Dallas, buddy!”

“Horvath, hello.” Why’d even you knock if you just planned on walking in?

“Hey, so are you coming to my party Wednesday night? It’s going to be at Dave and Buster’s! And I gotta tell you, I think I’m going to eat my own weight in cheese sticks!”

Be stronger.

“Horvath, look, I don’t want to go. So I’m not going to.” Dallas forced himself to look up from his computer and meet Horvath’ gaze. Horvath held it for a moment, he really did, but then he looked over at the Simpson’s print of them dressed like The Beatles crossing Abby Road. It was signed by former US President James Buchanan’s last living relative who bore no connection to The Simpsons but it was impressive all the same.

“Dallas, buddy, look you gotta come! If you don’t then Kit won’t and if Kit won’t then Jaime and Alex won’t! Please! It is my birthday.”

Get what you want.

“Horvath, you have three clients coming to see you in 15 minutes.”

“Oh yeah, you’re trying to pick something up from the master, eh? Alright, I’ll let you in on how I run it, I give them each 17 minutes and I count their time in the warm-up chamber and their times in the cryonics bath all as a part of the appointment. I only spend a little more than a quarter of an hour on the holo-therapy for each of them. Pretty sweet scam, huh?”

“No, I can’t imagine the Ethics Department for Fukunaga Mental Health and Ameridata would be happy about something like that.” Dallas had trouble pacing himself here, “I want you to transfer Kerfling to me. Tell her that you messed up the schedule and that you need me to substitute. You do that and then I’ll go to your party. See, we both win.”

“You… Dick!... Fine. But not cool and you’d better bring a gift!” Horvath huffed as he slammed the door behind him.

“I won’t.”

Dallas exhaled deeply, relief jetting through him, racing against the impossible pace of blood pumping alongside it. It had worked. He had worked. It was working! He had already gotten more than what he had started the day with!

Dallas hit down on the intra-office page system, “Athena, when Mrs. Kerfling gets here, please just go ahead and page me when you set her up in a therapy chamber. Dr. Horvath realized the mistake in his over-booking and requested my help with handling some of his workload.”

“You got it, Doc!” Athena said back cheerily.

Dallas pulled up Grandiana Kerfling’s file on his Data-Net and reviewed it while he headed upstairs to one of the Holo-Therapy rooms. Being careful while winding his way through the labyrinthine office halls to make sure he avoided the anti-gravity wing. Even though the zero-grav environments were supposed to be contained to the pods, he swore he got nauseous every time he walked by. He signed in on Suite 14 and made ran some pre-diagnostics to make sure all of the modules loaded up correctly. Everything booted up fine, even the premium add-ons.

Dallas’ Data-Net activated a notification alert, it wasn’t Athena, it was Kit.

“Just saw Horvath and he was throwing a tantrum at one of his patients. What a baby.”

Dallas quickly messaged back so that he wouldn’t be looking at his Data-Net when Mrs. Kerfling arrived. “Yeah, I might have done that, I’ll tell you more later.”

The page from Athena popped up and Dallas dismissed it before snapping his Data-Net shut. Moments later, Grandiana was vogue-ing her way through the security checkpoint. Dallas greeted her politely, despite the fact that she seemed nonplussed about the change in therapists, and then ushered her into the Holo-Suite but he waited to engage the holograms.

“So, Grandiana—”

“You may address me as Ms. Kerfling, Doctor...?”

Decide right now, Dallas, decide to take what you want.

“You can just call me Dallas, and I hate to be the one to tell you this, Grandiana, but if you keep me at arm’s length then the therapy just isn’t going to be as effective. Now, I can call you Ms. Kerfling but you need to ask yourself how much you will really get from this session if you are so guarded.”

“Yes Doc… Yes Dallas, I’m sorry, Grandiana is fine… I just, I’m just not used to seeing anyone but Doctor Horvath.”

“That’s ok Grandiana, I understand that, but I was looking at your file and to be honest I feel like you were being slighted by Doctor Horvath anyway. I feel like you’d be much more receptive to the Dragons and Elves scenario so for this session I’m actually going to give you a free upgrade over your standard Castle Siege scenario. It is skews a little more towards fantasy then you’re used to but after reading your file I am sure that you’re more than equipped to handle the nuance of this kind of therapy. It might leave you a little more drained than usual but we will worry about that after the session, alright?”

“Oh my, Doctor Horvath has never taken this much interest in our sessions, I actually do think I am more excited about this… Very well then. Let’s run the scenario! I want to keep my sword from the Castle Siege Scenario though!”

“Absolutely, Grandiana, I can make sure that Scarblade is in the Dragons and Elves Scenario.”

“Wow, Dallas, you really did read my file, didn’t you!”

“I sure did!” Dallas chuckled as they engaged the scenario.

An hours and fifteen minutes later, Dallas had let the session run on long for a couple of reasons, the two stepped out of the Holo-Suite. Grandiana was actually out of breath but her expression read of exhausted contentment.

“That was fantastic Dallas! I thought the goblins had us for sure! What a relief it was to find out that Scarblade actually had a flame enchantment the whole time! I gotta say though, I am beat. Do you think it would be ok to schedule some extra cooldown time in the cryonics bath?”

“I won’t lie to you Grandiana, it will tack more onto your bill but as your therapist I would absolutely recommend it as well. It is good to be able to fully relax and decompress in an environment like that after all the action that you just experienced.”

“You know what, I actually don’t mind at all, sign me up for a double cryonics treatment! And while you’re at it, schedule me another appointment with you next week! I want to keep running the Dragons and Elves scenario and you’ve proven to be a much more capable therapist than Doctor Horvath!”

“I’d be more than happy too, Grandiana.” Dallas said, sending her into the cryonics room while totaling how much more the commission for all of that was going to look on his numbers. Just today’s double cryo would be a sizable increase in his numbers from last week! Horvath was an idiot, Grandiana was a whale and he wasn’t doing his due diligence to service her enough. He deserved to have Grandiana poached out from under him.

Dallas pulled out his Data-Net and saw that Kit had messaged him:

“Hey, meet me in the cafeteria for lunch after your next session! Just had the wildest experience with Chubbs!”

Chubbs was the nickname that Kit had for one of her patients who was not overweight (so the nickname wasn’t insensitive jeering). Chubbs was obsessed with Carl Weathers’ character from the Adam Sandler cinematic universe, Chubbs Peterson, the one-handed retired golf pro. He had only appeared in two films, Happy Gilmore and Little Nicky (the second appearance was really only a cameo) but Chubbs (real name Carl Dagonovich) was completely fixated. Every session with that guy was a scene-for-scene retake of Chubbs Peterson’s cinematic chronology. It hardly seemed therapeutic but the business of mental health takes many paths.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs sounds like the title of an overly-produced porn… So yeah, obviously I need to hear about this. I’ll meet up with you in about an hour and a half!” Dallas messaged back.

Dallas coded his notes on his session with Grandiana Kerfling while waiting for his next patient. But he kept glancing down at his Data-Net the whole time he was typing up the report. When Kit finally responded he spun his chair completely away from his desk to read her message.

“Wildest Experience With Chubbs is also sadly the story of every time I’ve ever masturbated in front of a mirror but PIZZA JUST TASTES SO GOOD!” Kit messaged back.

Athena sent Dallas a page, notifying him that his next patient had arrived. Dallas started walking towards the Holo-Therapy Suites but he didn’t look up from his Data-Net, he just walked while typing a reply.

“Ewww… Why are you tasting pizza while masturbating in front of mirrors? Listen, if you ever need to talk about anything… I’d actually recommend you speak to Doctor Horvath because that guy is like, real good.” Dallas chuckled to himself as he typed it out.

“I meant pizza in the royal sense, stupid, obviously I don’t eat pizza while masturbating. I eat pot roast because I am a class act.”

Dallas stopped in the middle of walking to let out a short chuckle at Kit’s response. He smiled as he began typing back.

“Yeah, well have fun with your royal pizza or whatever you are doing with it, I’m about to start a session.”

Dallas snapped his Data-Net shut and watched his next client stalk through the security post. Daisuke Hernandez was a complicated man and Dallas hadn’t quite pinned him down yet but he was able to get along with him well enough to sell him a premium scenario for every visit.

“Darasu-San.”

“Hernandez-San, I trust you would like to run the same scenario today? Samurai and Banditos fight off the Giant Killer Praying Mantis?”

“Hai.”

“Sounds good, I’ve got a lot planned for you, I think we’re going to make some real progress. Who knows, by the end of today’s session, I might even upsell you from your usual zero-grav pod to a electrolysis massage for your decompress and debrief regimen.” Dallas said as they went into the holo-therapy room.

An hour and two minutes later and Dallas had done exactly what he had set out to do. Dallas had filled the scenario with so much nuance and subtlety Daisuke agreed to the upcharge. Another sale, two in one day for Dallas was unheard of. This was his personal best. All because he was strong enough.

Dallas checked his Data-Net once he had sent Daisuke Hernandez on his way. He had a message from Kit that was just a pot roast emoji and he grinned at that. Another message from Athena told him that he needed to call his boss back. The grin faded slightly, but only slightly. Mr. Fukunaga wasn’t so bad, really. His advice seemed to really be helping.

“Hey, I’ll meet up with you in ten minutes, I just have to make a real quick call!” Dallas messaged Kit as he rushed back to his office.

Once he was situated he initiated the call with Mr. Fukunaga.

“Ahem, hello? Who is this?” Charles Fukunaga demanded.

“Yes sir, this is Dallas, the doctor from Branch 7 that you spoke to yesterday, I was returning your call.” Dallas responded hastily.

“Yes! Dallas! Well, yes, fantastic! I was just looking at everything you’ve accomplished today! I swear, you’ve done better just this morning than you did all last week! I see you took my pep-talk to heart then, did you?”

“Yes sir, I—”

“Good, that’s good… Ahem, you know, the company, and by extension me personally, just want the staff of all Fukunaga Mental Health branches to be happy, comfortable, and loved! I want to make sure you are as fulfilled as you can be by working for us…

Can I get real with you for a second, Dallas? Just really real and raw and uncut? I want you to be really fulfilled! Just in every, ahem, EVERY way.

You know, I’m something of an older man. I’m hitting the ass-end of my fifties now. And I’ve started something new. I’m now the… well… I’m an active participant in a polyamorous relationship with two trans-women and a hyper-sentient android with three separate personalities. The six of us are very happy and VERY fulfilled.

I just, well, I just want to make sure that you are as happy as I am. I want you to find your polyamorous six-way! Do you have that, Dallas? Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?”

Dallas hesitated. For a lot of reasons.

“No, sir, I guess I can’t quite say that I do have what you have.”

“Well, m’boy, I want you, right now, I want you to really evaluate yourself. Ahem, and I want you to take that advice I gave to you and I want you to really apply it across every part of your life. You do that and I know that you will be the best Cyber-Psycho-Therapist that this company has. You’re good at what you do but I know you can be great at what you do. Now go back out there and do what you do! Fukunaga out!”

Dallas sat at his desk, staring at the blank spot on his wall between two of the Simpsons prints. It seemed endless in a way. It was so empty that it was able to completely consume him and remove him from the reality of the conversation that he just had with his boss. The blank spot was comforting for just a few moments. And then he remembered that he had just told his boss that he was alone. He told his polyamorous boss that he was alone.

Goddamnit.

“I’m on my way now… I’m… This day has been weird. Be right there.” Dallas messaged Kit.

When Dallas got to the cafeteria, he looked around until his eyes landed on a secluded corner with one solitary doctor eating her lunch. Kit’s hair was down, she was peeling a fresh orange, she was wearing the white lab coat that she swore made her look “more like a doctor”. Dallas had known her for so long and she had never looked better than right that moment. She was like if his eyes could drink hot chocolate.

Dallas grabbed himself a neon meal shake that advertised “all the power of lasers in one bottle” before sitting down next to his best friend. She told him about Chubbs, he told her about Horvath, Kerfling, and even Hernandez. He left out his talk with Fukunaga. She was so happy that he was getting his numbers up. She was always happy with him. Dallas liked to chase that feeling.

“You’re pronouncing that wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re pronouncing Chuck Palahniuk’s name wrong.”

“Bullshit, I watched the special edition blu-ray with commentary and Edward Norton prono—”

“Yeah, he pronounced it wrong too.”

“Well how do you know, genius?”

Do you have somebody? Or five somebodies even?

“Because I met him. He signed my copy of Choke. I asked him to write in the inside cover how to phonetically pronounce his name and he did. See, here is a picture of it right here.”

Kit pulled up a picture of the book on her Data-Net and there it was, plain as day. Chuck Palahniuk’s autograph right next a pronunciation key in his hand-writing.

“Wow… Ok, well that is wild.” Dallas said, incredulously.

“Yeah, well you should know better than to doubt me.”

“I didn’t doubt you… I was just hesitant to immediately doubt Edward Norton. He just seems so smart… Also, figures that you would have him sign Choke. I haven’t even read that.”

“Yeah, well I own a signed copy that I am not going to let you borrow so good luck never reading it.” Kit laughed, her eyes always shut when she laughed, it was this moment of sincere vulnerability any time she laughed. Dallas had learned to appreciate that. She was a licensed Cyber-Therapist, any of the smart ones knew to never be vulnerable.

You will get everything you want because decided to take it.

While her eyes were closed, Dallas leaned in and kissed Kit on her smiling lips. He felt her tense up for the fraction of a second but immediately relax as she kissed him back… for almost a full second before pulling herself away.

“Dallas, what the fuck? I’m… I’m… you can’t do that! You know I’m with Jiro!” Kit was blushing, her smile was down-turned into a scowl, and her brow was furrowed. Her tone was both panicked and indignant and… yes, angry. An individual’s whose career was based around interpreting human behavior might say that this was a wholly negative reaction.

Dallas began to feel shame injected into his face and neck and start to run down his back. He felt it seep closer to his extremities with each heartbeat until he finally felt it in his fingertips.

“Kit, I’m…” Dallas trailed off. He knew there were no words that could ever make this alright.

“Please don’t tell Jiro.” Dallas said numbly. He stood up and walked out of the cafeteria while Kit was flustering. She called after him but he kept walking. He went past his office, past the Zero-Grav Pods, past the Cryo-Bath Tanks, past Athena the android assistant, down the elevator, out of the building and began to walk home. There was no saving that situation. Probably.

Dallas, Kit, and Jiro had been friends for the last 15 years. They had gone to school together as three best friends until a year and a half ago when Kit and Jiro started dating. Dallas had never had a single romantic feeling for Kit for thirteen and a half years until she was with Jiro.

Why did I do that? That wasn’t strength… That was weakness. I am pathetic.

Dallas made it home when he realized his car was still at work. And that he was still supposed to be at work. And that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to get his sales up or he would be fired. And that… No. Nothing mattered right now.

Dallas lay down in his bed, fully clothed. His eyes landed on his bedside table where he had left the note. That note that Mr. Fukunaga had told him to write to himself. Back when Mr. Fukunaga was threatening to fire him still.

Dallas reached over and unfolded the note and read it.

“Tomorrow, you will be stronger and you will get everything that you want because you decided to take it.”

Dallas tore the note into pieces, rolled over, and began to cry into his pillow.

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