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pokeglitchden · 8 months

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[The Following Offscreen- In character event takes place at 11:30PM

Previous Part found here - Collaboration with @ladyzee-oddityhunter

CW- Blood, Gore, Broken Limbs, Pokemon Abuse, Death mention, possession

Simon takes a careful step away from the utterly disheveled looking Oddity Hunter he now found himself standing before. Dark wafts of purple smoke play about her face as she stares him down through sopping wet tangles of ragged pink hair. Her eyes are just a bit too wide, unblinking as she staggers towards him, her legs twisting out unnaturally as they seem to struggle to find a comfortable way to hold her. "Okay, er.." Simon starts, holding up a hand as he backs away, "Zee? Whatever's going on, try to stay calm, alright? I'm... I'm just going to get you back to town. Er... and probably to a hospital." A grin, just as menacing as it is unnatural, splits too wide across Zee's face.

You can clearly see the red between her teeth.

"Town? I'd love to go to town, mister."

She begins to shamble back up the slope towards Simon. Other than her broken fingers her body still looks mostly solid, if not a bit worse for wear. It's clear her pokemon have been holding back, trying not to injure her.

But this isn't Zee any more.

She grabs Carmelita, the Oricorio who'd so bravely stood before her, by the throat and silences a panicked squawk from it. Dark energy seems to gather in her palm, striking the pokemon point blank with a Shadow Ball. She smashes the pokemon into the ground with a hiss.

It lays there, unmoving.

Simon blanches a little. He takes a trembling step back as Zee begins to advance again, wobbling as she does. Her eyes meet Simon's unblinking as a scowl crosses her lips once again.

"I'm going back to the town. If you get in my way too, I'll twist your head off and shove it up your ass."

Simon winces, unclipping a Pokeball now from his belt. This has gone far enough.

"Okay Zee.." he says, a little breathlessly, "We'll get you back, just hang on."

He tosses the Pokeball and from it bursts, Mimic, the blue tinted glitch pokemon that takes the form of either its trainer or their pokemon as it pleases. Today Mimic looks like a bright blue copy of Simon, complete with thick eyeglasses (and an uncanny lack of eyes behind them). It watches Zee with a vacant kind of ambivalence, expression totally neutral as it lies in wait beside its trainer.

"We can talk this out, right?" Simon asks, addressing the spirit now, "Don't you think you could just leave. This is possession, right?"

Zee glances between Simon and Mimic a few times (as if trying to better understand just WHAT this strange blue copy of him was supposed to be.)

"Leave?" she asks as she shambles further towards him, “No. I’ve been waiting a long time for someone to come here. I’m going home. I’m getting him BACK for this!”

The swirling, purple mist intensifies as her face twists with fury.

“He deserves to DIE FOR THIS! HE RUINED MY LIFE!”

With a hate filled shriek, clouds of dark mist begin to swirl about her. She is shouting now, words overlapping with one another in a cacophony of hate, pleading to unhearing gods for vengeance she was owed and so sorely denied. Her anguish swiftly devolves into sounds impossible to recreate with a human mouth.

She sways, as if ready to collapse, before falling head long into a sprint towards Simon. He gasps, staggering backwards, almost falling as he shouts in a panic. "Mimic!!"

Mimic's head snaps to attention as it's eyes come to focus on Zee. It rushes to intercept her, firing off a shadow ball in response, mimicking the attack it had seen her use on Carmelita. It snarls at Zee as the attack connects, standing before Simon protectively.

Zee is knocked clean off her feet, sent tumbling back down the slope from the force of the impact. (So much for her perfect manicure)

Behind him, he can hear Benjie whimpering. Its clear the pokemon can't stand seeing its trainer hurt, but it seems to know as well as Simon does. This still is not Zee.

She lurches back to her feet like a puppet on strings. Her ankle gives way beneath her when she stands, rolling awkwardly beneath her as she pitches forward. Her cold eyes snap to Mimic.

“Bastard… What the FUCK are YOU?”

She pulls a few ragged, shallow breaths as she limps back up the hill upon failing joints. A fine purple mist gatheres around her hands as she makes a dash at Mimic. She raises a vicious shadowed claw to swipe at the strange blue pokemon.

The attack goes right though. It does absolutely nothing. Mimic just stares back at her a bit blankly, its head cocking vaguely to one side. Simon takes his place next to his Mimic and stares down at her. "I'm only going to ask you to leave once more." he says, "Tell me, just who is it you're looking for. Do you even know if he's still alive?"

Zee snarls at him, dumbfounded and frustrated by the lack of impact her attack had upon Mimic.

"What, as if you'll help me?" she asks with a sneer, "I'm not telling you a damn thing. Trusting someone is how this HAPPENED.”

She takes a step back, and then another, before turning abruptly to bolt. Benjie gives out a cry of alarm, dashing to cut her off before she can escape.

"Hey wait!" Simon calls after her, "Mimic! Don't let her get away!!"

#glitch pkmn irl #pkmn irl #high stakes pokereality #cw blood #cw gore #cw possession #cw pokemon abuse #cw death mention #cw broken limbs

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crescentsteel · 3 years

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Just Friends - Epilogue

plot: fubu set up with Kuroo, model fem reader genre: fluff, suggestive themes wc: 2.1k

[a/n]

I enjoyed writing this self-indulgent, tooth-rotting part. I hope you do too.

I loved this story so much. It really is goodbye now, Kuroo.

Ack. Not crying.

Part 10 || m.list

“Morning,” says your boyfriend with the familiar drawl of his voice in early mornings.

“Mmm, more sleep.” You nuzzle your face on his glorious chest which you deem is the best pillow you’ll ever have. Of course, you won’t tell him that. His head is already big enough with that bed hair of his.

He wraps his arms around you even tighter, drawing you in his warm embrace that makes the January weather in Japan forgiving, comforting even.

He plants a soft kiss on your forehead while he tenderly tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Kitten, as much as I want to sleep in today, we both have to get up,” he says while he strokes your cheek, making you want to stay longer like this, contrary to what he just said.

“But why?” You whine with your eyes still closed.

He chuckles softly. “It’s your graduation today.”

You squint your eyes open and look at him. Kuroo Tetsurou. Your fuck buddy for 6 months, friend without the benefits for another 6 months, and boyfriend for 2 years.

After you made things official with him, you sorted your life out and figured out what you really wanted to do. As much as you enjoyed working full time, you decided to go back to your university and finish your degree while working part time instead.

You realized that you wanted to see it through, not because your parents wanted you to, but for yourself. You lost clients, but you were happier. But with Tetsu looking at you as he is, you’d think he’s way gladder than you are that you’re finally graduating.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What? Can’t I be happy for this occasion?”

You shrug your shoulders and get back to nestling yourself within his hold. He gently taps your shoulder. “Oyyy, get up already. I can’t do it with you being cute and shit like that.”

You giggle on his chest before getting up.

—

“Seriously, Tetsu. You look too damn happy,” you remark on your seat as you watch him drive. “You’ve had that wide grin on your face since we left my place.”

“You don’t understand, kitten. We finally get to look like a legit couple. I won’t get those looks from students in your university anymore.”

You frown. “What’re you talking about?”

He snorts. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

“Oh please. They look at me like I’m a cradle snatcher.”

You cackle on your seat. You really had no idea that your schoolmates looked at him like that. It must be the suit and the car every time he fetches you from the campus.

“Aww Tetsu.” You reach for his face and caress his cheek. “You don’t look that old to be a cradle snatcher.” He smiles as his one hand lets go of the wheel to cup yours that was resting on his face.

“Maybe a sugar daddy?”

He returns his hand on the wheel and scowls. “You know, we still have time to pull up somewhere.”

“Why the hell would we pull up?”

His scowl turns into a contemptuous grin. “So we could do that sugar daddy roleplay of yours. I can act like a creep who paid for your university. Then we can pretend to have one last sex.”

You instantly remove your hand away from his face. “You’re gross,” you spat out. It was his turn to laugh. “What? I’m just going along with your shit.”

His one hand creeps on your inner thighs. “Come on, baby. Won’t you let me fuck you for the last time?” You raise an eyebrow on his hand that’s inside your skirt before raising your gaze to him. “Oh daddy. Does this really have to be the last?” You play along with his dumb antics.

He grips your flesh right before making a sharp turning on the curve right ahead. “Tetsu! What’re you doing?” He keeps his mouth shut with his eye glued to the road. “Hey! Where are we going?” He still doesn’t answer you until he pulls up at a park that is somehow familiar to you, but you can’t remember why.

“What are we doing here?” You ask.

“You don’t remember this place?”

You shake your head. “Well, if you must know. I stopped over in this area to do you before I took you back to my place. You were batshit drunk and let me, a stranger do all sorts of stuff with you. End of story time.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and lunges right at your lips, causing you to moan from the suddenness of it. His tongue swipes your lower lip right before thrusting it impatiently in your mouth.

You force yourself to pull away. “Tetsu, it’s broad daylight.” He might have gotten away with it before, but it’s too bright at present. Anyone can just walk in on you.

“Why do you think I got my car tinted as fuck? Besides, barely anyone comes here,” he says before his lips coaxes you to agree by flicking his tongue just below your jaw.

“B-but my clothes,” you try to protest.

“We’re not going to remove them,” he hums against your neck.

You cup his face to lead him back to your lips as you unbuckle your own seat belt to get over to his seat and straddle him. He reclines his seat while ravaging your lips.

“Call me that again,” he says in between kisses. You knit your eyebrows together before gaping at him with an amused look as it dawns on you what he’s talking about.

You hitch your skirt up and grind on his clothed erection. You place both your elbows on both sides of his head, hovering just an inch on his face. “Call you what, daddy?”

He smiles as he reaches for your lips once again.

“Why are you late on your own graduation?” Kenma asks as he eyes Kuroo’s wrinkled slacks and your crumpled dress that you still struggle to fix even after arriving.

“Forget I asked,” he says with a grimace. “Sorry,” you apologize before catching your own breath. You turn to Kuroo and fix your hair for the last time. “Do I look okay?”

“Most beautiful person here.” He pulls you for a quick peck on the lips. “Go to your seat, kitten. You’re already almost an hour late.” You beam at him and give him and Kenma a quick wave before marching to your assigned seat.

When you're out of earshot, Kenma frowns at Kuroo. “Really? You couldn’t wait until after the ceremony?”

Kuroo laughs at Kenma’s question. “Is it that obvious?” Kuroo asks to heighten his amusement. “Disgustingly so.” Kenma answers instantly which cracks him up even more. Kenma easily swerves away from the topic, telling Kuroo about his current plans for Bouncing Ball while they wait for you to get on stage.

When your name is called, they both immediately stop talking. This is what they came here for, to see you get that certificate you very much deserved.

You were right earlier in the car. He is too damn happy for this day. You worked so hard for this milestone even if you didn’t have to. You did so well with your job. You were soaring your way to being more successful. But you stayed true to what you really wanted and studied again. After two years, you really did it.

He took the whole day off to make sure he’d be with you because he wanted to be with you as you grasp this achievement. More especially because you told him your parents won’t be coming. He’s also glad that Kenma made time for you so you have one more person celebrating your success.

He watches you get up on stage, a walk so far from your usual, composed one because you too were happy. Your face is radiating even when from a distance. When you get the diploma, you turn your head to where he is, quickly scanning the area to look for him. When your eyes meet his, you break into the most beautiful smile he’s ever laid his on.

He waves at you with a smile of his own. Fuck. He must have done something right in this life to deserve you.

“Don’t cry here, Kuroo. You’re going to look like her father instead of her boyfriend,” Kenma says. He sniffs a bit and laughs when he remembers your antics before you two arrive at the place. “I wouldn’t mind being her daddy,” he answers back meaningfully, causing Kenma to glower.

“Ew.”

“Oh my God. I’m exhausted!” You exclaim as you remove your heels when you enter his apartment. You two immediately went straight to his place after having your celebratory dinner with Kenma and Kuroo. You two have been sleeping at each other’s place interchangeably for quite a while now that you have some clothes and your necessities in his place and vice versa.

Before changing clothes, you plop yourself on his couch, resting your head on the back rest. You feel familiar fingers massager your temples. “You good?”

“Mmmhmm. Just tired.” His digits leave your head. You hear his footsteps go around the couch, the cushion shifting down with his weight when he gets there. He tenderly tugs your head to lean on his shoulder.

“Congratulations, kitten. I’m so proud of you” he whispers. You snuggle even closer to him, getting yourself lost in his comforting presence. “Thanks, Tetsu.”

You feel something in your lap which makes you flutter your eyes open. It’s a small red paper bag. You sit up straight and feign a glare at him. “I did tell you no gifts, right?”

“Yep, but since when have you been the boss of me?” You roll your eyes as you scoff at him. You take the paper bag off your lap and gently open it. You find a rectangular black leather box inside.

“Ooh! Are these eyeglasses?” You ask eagerly. You’ve been whining non-stop that your eyes hurt from the amount of time you’ve been spending in front of your laptop. Damn, your boyfriend really is thoughtful.

“Uh huh. Go open it and lemme see if you look hot with it,” he smirks as he watches you take the black box inside. You open it and see no eyeglasses. What’s there is a key stuffed in the velvet cushion filling the empty space inside the box.

You look at him with a frown, confused as to what it means. He no longer holds that cocky expression in his face. He regards you lovingly, his eyes warm as he dotes you. “I bought a condo unit in Shibuya. Move in with me?”

You gawk at him, the word you want to say not coming out of your mouth from shock. You two didn’t have a problem with your set up. He’d sleep over at your place and you’d sleep at his place in turn. You were fine with that, but sometimes, it’d slip your mind how nice it would be if you wouldn’t have to take turns anymore, if you lived together.

But you never told him that. It was just a thought that you pushed in the back of your head. You were content with your current set-up anyways.

“A-are you sure?”

He laughs softly. “Damn right, I’m sure.” He grabs your hand, covering it with his as he strokes your knuckles. “I don’t want to keep track of whose place we’re spending the night at. I want to wake up with your face next to mine on the same bed everyday. I want to go home knowing you’ll be there.”

You blink back the warm liquid in the corner of your eyes that’s threatening to surface. You have been exposed to many grandeurs and successes in life, but not any of those compared to the happiness you feel as he eyes you with pure rapture.

“Honestly, I would’ve asked you to marry me if only I’d met your parents already.”

You smile through the tears that you failed to hold in. “Tetsu, you’re making me cry like an idiot on my own graduation day. Of course, I’d love to move in with you, duh,” you say before wrapping an arm around his neck and burying your face on his chest as you let the tears of joy flow peacefully.

He draws you away and wipes your tears with his thumb, the amorous look he had not leaving his face. “I’m serious though. I love you, y/n. I love you so much that I want you to be completely mine.”

You trail your hands up to his cheek and hoist yourself up to cover his lips with yours. You’ve shared many kisses with him, and among those thousand times your mouth meld against his, this feels different, special.

You pull away and return the earnest adoration he has with your own. “I already am, Tetsu. Just as you are mine.”

Part 10 || m.list

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@lia-faerie-queen @mkkhaikyuu @fastidious-and-precise @winunk @feelkindahorny @cece-lives-here @arendizzle @phantomneko0 @ysatrap @babythotshq @ameliaxo @miiy @kurooscoochie @lucifers-luv @suikrem @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @tsumurai

#kuroo fluff #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #kuroo angst #Kuroo Tetsurou #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #for the love of kami-sama #pls let the tags work

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randomoranges · 4 years

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drag meeting au part 2

Over the next few days, Étienne’s thoughts about Kate went to the back of his head and his life resumed as normal. He went to his job, met up with people who worked at different art galleries and so on. He had a pretty solid routine, despite what he liked to pretend, but it added stability to his rather hectic and eclectic life and it grounded him.

He was currently coming back home from work, riding the metro as he often did and passing the time by observing the other passengers. He liked people watching, no matter how much his friends thought it was sometimes weird. Étienne could on occasion, if the bus or metro weren’t crowded, sit and sketch the people around him, just for fun. In the summertime, he would often go to one of his favourite parks and simply sketch the people who walked by. It made him practice, hone his skill and he genuinely found it to be a relaxing activity.

The metro was currently too crowded for him to sketch, so instead, Étienne sat back and quietly observed the people around him. It was then that his eyes caught the reflection in the window of Hot Metro Man. Hot Metro Man, or HMM for short, was just another commuter on the metro, but over the past month or so, Étienne had often seen him riding the metro around the same time as him, almost every day.

The man got on two stops after him and one stop before him. He was average height, maybe a little shorter than he was, it was hard to tell in the crowded metro, but what had caught Étienne’s attention that very first time had been the man’s colourful shirt. Étienne had never held back from adding splashes of bold colours to his wardrobe and so he had been quite excited when he had found a kindred spirit in this man who had been wearing a very bright red patterned shirt that had gone absolutely wonderfully with his complexion.

It had been then that Étienne had noticed the man’s distinctive dark brown hair that waved ever so slightly and fell just above his shoulders. Étienne liked that this man was daring and didn’t seem to follow the boring gender rules set out by God only knew whom and so he had let his eyes take in the sight of this other commuter. He had pretty hazel eyes and equally bold eyeglasses set in spectacular purple frames. In his honest opinion, Étienne believed the man could have stepped out of a fashion magazine and he would have believed it.

His stranger looked important, what with his briefcase and the way he carried himself with an air of confidence and Étienne thought maybe he worked for an important company as a higher-up. He’d stood in his corner of the metro that day and had drunk the sight of him, lingering only slightly on the way the man’s dark pants hugged his legs in all the right ways.

It had been a really good metro ride and Étienne had only mourned the end of his fantasy that would never be when the man had stepped off a few stations later. He never thought he would ever see him again and so, Étienne had been quite surprised when two days later, the man had been in the same metro compartment again.

From that day on, Étienne paid attention to the time the man got on the metro, which compartment he seemed to get on, and he tried to match it so that they could cross paths as often as possible. Étienne catalogued the outfits the man wore, let his eyes linger on the finer details of his clothes (or the way the accentuated certain assets of the man’s body) and on one memorable occasion, he even managed to sketch the man.

After the third run in, Étienne dubbed the stranger Hot Metro Man and after the seventh encounter, he toyed with the idea of starting a conversation with him, but the crowded metro simply seemed like the worst of places. By the eleventh run in, Étienne found himself standing right next to his Hot Metro Man and he had spent the entire ride breathing in the very pleasant smell of the man’s cologne. Had it not been weird or rude, Étienne would have furrowed his face in the crook of the man’s neck simply to imprint the scent of him to his brain for the rest of his life.

And so it had gone on.

Étienne kept telling himself that he was going to do something about his – fascination for the man, but after every metro ride, he never did. It seemed he couldn’t think of anything clever enough to tell him, and so he kept to his fantasies and tried convincing himself that next time would be the right time.

Today seemed to be the same song and dance.

Étienne quietly watched as Hot Metro Man tapped away at his phone and grinned at it. Maybe the man was happily partnered up and was looking forward to going home and spending time with his significant other. If that were the case, then Étienne would have to content himself with his silly little fantasies and keep searching elsewhere. A voice at the back of his head told him that he would never find out if he never asked, but that seemed too logical and an easy thing to do.

Today his Hot Metro Man was wearing a very attractive grey suit with a dark charcoal turtleneck underneath. Étienne pictured himself shopping with this man and thought for certain that they would have a jolly good time of it. He was caught up in his visions of Hot Metro Man modeling different outfits for him (and maybe then of him removing Hot Metro Man’s clothes,)when the metro slowed down and arrived at the next platform.

Étienne blinked and noticed, sadly, that it was his favourite commuter’s stop and watched as Hot Metro Man pocketed his phone and then stepped out.

Perhaps next time, he would actually do something about his growing infatuation with the man.

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#pc: montreal #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #3 sentence fic meme thing #drag meeting au

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vanaera · 5 years

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Exchanging Gifts Across the World

Synopsis | Gift exchanges have been a tradition between you and Namjoon. It’s cool, really. He gets to give you something for Christmas and he gets to have something that always manages to warm his heart for the cold. But, today, Namjoon will try to kick it up a notch, especially when his bigtime celebrity crush Y/N is the same fucking person as SunnyY/N, his best hoe in the world. Gotta impress the lady, as they say.

(aka Sun + Moon Christmas Special!)

Genre |Fluff with one hell of humor

Wordcount | 4k+ (I’m sorry)

A/N | Hi! So my plan to make online friend!namjoon + idol!you drabbles that started from Unread Messages is fucking happening, so please read that first to understand this. Tumblr is being shitty but you can find it in my blog. Just click the masterlist link in my description to view it. Oh, and this is unedited :) ...so yeah, enjoy reading and Happy Holidays everyone! Track my tag #sweet holidays for more of my Christmas specials!

It’s the Yuletides season and to say Namjoon is in deep shit would be an understatement. The shit he is in is deeper than the big ass snow pile on the streets he trudges on on the way to the university.

It starts with his alarm clock going off in the ass crack of dawn, two hours earlier than the six o’clock call time he steadfastly arranged for two years straight. It was an actual mistake on his part when he went to sleep last night groggy at eleven from his tutoring sessions and his finger mistook “4” for “6,” but in his current situation, Namjoon thinks it was the greatest blessing in disguise.

Every December, Namjoon has this tradition with you where you would send each other Christmas gifts overseas and chat each other on Send Me every 20th of December before you both open it at the same time. It was a really great tradition. Namjoon get to have exchange gifts with his favorite person in the world and it was a very great heart warmer that arms him with enough heat to pack along his bags when he leaves for home for the holidays.

The thing is, it was easier back then.

SunnyY/N 9:47 PM

Hey it’s December

MonJoon 9:47 PM

Yeah, what about it?

SunnyY/N 9:48 PM

Wanna exchange gifts with me?

It was a month right after Aym a BaBe, now SunnyY/N, randomly messaged him on Send Me to ask him to listen to you while you, a complete stranger, open up to him about your problems and now you’re here, wanting to exchange gifts? Namjoon thinks you’re really weird. Before he can reply, a notification pops off.

SunnyY/N 9:50 PM

It’s ok if you don’t want to

SunnyY/N 9:50 PM

I mean like, I’m a stranger so yeah. I totally get you. Sorry for bothering you :(

Namjoon bites his lip. He doesn’t know why the hell his heart feels like its strings have been tugged out of tune. Maybe it’s because of your triple sad faces or maybe… you messaged him on some November midnight ago that gave him a glimpse of your problems. Namjoon knows denying this just feels…not right. Maybe it’s because that same midnight when you talked about how sad you are with your situation and how you can’t tell other people what you feel reminded him of his current problems in the uni: friend-less, frustrated, and unsatisfied–all centered around a lifestyle he never dreamt of having if he had not accepted the Biology program just to step on the holy floors of his dream university. He never knew chasing for his dream program, Music Composition, would be too hard, especially when his first attempt to shift was rejected. Overloading on general courses just to catch up with the students in his supposed program was never a bright idea of his freshmen days but he was just desperate and now, here he is, tired of everything and everyone.

Except you. Which is boggling the hell out of him.

Anyway, Namjoon mutters, “Fuck it,” and lets his fingers dance on his screen.

MonJoon 9:51 PM

No, I mean, you’re not bothering me. I wanna do exchange gifts, too.

SunnyY/N 9:53 PM

You do?

MonJoon 9:54 PM

Yeah, why not?

December 15 marks the first time Namjoon went out freezing in the chilly winter air wearing a coat he just thrifted in a dollar shop to go to Paperdreams, the bookstore just a five minute walk from his dorm. The shop’s rustic interior was a leftover trace of the countryside with the tangerine lighting provided by the overhead hanging lamps and the mahogany wood of the tables and cases that held books and handcrafted stationery materials. A potted gardenia plant was standing proud by the entrance, its hardy, pale pink, petals a contrast to the leaveless trees under the white season. It’s a nice ambiance to gray and white walls he’s been long exposed to.

“May I help you sir?”

Namjoon looks at his side to address the lady on the counter, a middle aged woman with a tender smile on her face. “Uhh..Um…I’m just gonna look for something that’s gift-able,” Namjoon shakes his head, almost slapping himself at the stupid choice of words. “Umm…something that I can give to a friend–for Christmas, yeah.”

“Hmm, what are your friend’s interests? We can start from there.”

Namjoon unconsciously puts his hands together and almost wrung them, a mannerism he does when he’s nervous and instead bit his lip. Friend? Can he call you a friend? He doesn’t even know your preferences other than being a fan of Y/N and music and this info he learned from you is still vague as he hasn’t even grasped around what kind of genre you like. “Uuh-um-uh I-I don’t know her preferences that well yet so…I’m not quite sure.”

The lady leaves the counter and flashes him a smile. “That’s okay. I can help you find something,” she beckons him to follow here in one of the aisles.

As he passes through the aisles of bookcases, Namjoon can’t help but scan the books and journals lined up on the wooden stands, all almost made by authors he’s never heard of before. The Killing of the Lilacs, Butterflies and White Walls, The Dream of the Common Language–this is a selection he’s never encountered before.

“You’re a bookworm, hmm?”

Namjoon closes the distance the woman has passed onto the next set of aisles positioned against the lateral of the shop. “Uhm-yes…I’m just fascinated because I’ve never read any one of those.”

“They’re good books, I assure you,” the lady says, grinning. Namjoon thinks the wrinkles painted by age on the corners of her eyes were a great contrast to the youthfulness in her irises. “I’ve read popular books before but what I felt while flipping through their pages cannot compare to those books,” she gestures to the aisle. “Being unpopular just somehow makes what they say truly genuine. Those authors have no one to impress, nothing to fake; just raw feelings and words.”

Namjoon’s lips stretch into a smile, the first real one in the day. He knows what she says. Being a loyal follower to the rising solo artist Y/N is quite a similar feat. The way she produces the acoustic melodies synchronized with lo-fi hiphop beats, sometimes upbeat, is a really weird mix he’s never imagined he would appreciate. Her vocal technique ranging from R&B to dreamy pop is astounding and the lyrics she writes is just too poetic and emotionally-packed, damn it, she can write a song about his broken ass piggy bank and it would still be beautiful–

“Anyway son, you can look through this,” the lady brings his attention back to her and back to the bookcase. “They’re prose books and journals, a safe option for someone you would like to get to know more.”

“Oh uhm, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it; I really like assisting people with choosing and preparing gifts. Not everyone manages to spare a look at another person anymore, much less spend the time to buy someone something worthwile. The Christmas spirit is rare and I’d like to indulge in it as much as possible. Haahh,” the lady sighs, “I talked too much again. I’m gonna go back to the counter, okay? Just call for me when you need assistance.”

Namjoon nods, and lets his eyes continue eyeing the Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur. Needless to say, he purchases the book, heads to DHL just a street away and ships it to the address you gave him.

A brown package arrives on his doorstep on the 19th of December and on the following day, he goes online with you and tears the wrapping away to reveal The Dream of A Common Language and white headphones standing out from the red festive paper.

MonJoon 10:46 PM

Oh my god, you’re making me cry, hoe. I just – like saw a piece of it on Google Reads and planned on buying it a week before and now, it’s here?!!!

MonJoon 10:46 PM

OMYGOD I JUST CALLED YOU HOE I’M SORRY

SunnyY/N 10:47 PM

IT’S OKAY DON’T WORRY! I actually am thankful I got your preferences right. And also, thank you! I’ve never heard of any Rupi Kaur before. I’ll be sure to give you updates!

A week later, you messaged him, raving about the book, and eternally thanking him for giving it to you. Namjoon never knew his lips could be pulled into a smile all day long as he stared at the screen of his phone to the point that he managed to shut his eyes at ten, eyeglasses still perched on top of his nose and your message still flashed on his screen.

“Thanks so much, Joon. The healing part got me really emotional. I never knew it would affect me so much…I just feel really comforted and just– thank you so much.”

A week later, Y/N releases a new single, Piece Me Together, and Namjoon’s smile stays for the next few days.

Namjoon planned that the following Decembers will follow the same suit. Every 12th, he’ll walk to Paperdreams, pick a gift of his choice, ship it through DHL, and wait at his home for his brown box sometime around the 20th or 21st, a couple of days convenient before he’ll take a trip to his home. He never thought this gift exchanges will turn out to be the thing he most looks forward to every Holiday Season. The picking of gifts, handwriting short notes on Christmas Cards, and shipping it and waiting for his gift to reach your door makes him reminisce his carefree childhood days. It makes his heart feel contented too that he gets to express his gratitude to you for being the best person out there for him. It’s a wonder how tangible you feel when your physical presence is only emanated by your messages. Maybe it’s because you made him stronger in dealing with life or how you managed to make him smile everyday–he wasn’t really sure. All he knows is that you’re his bestfriend and he hopes you’re also finding solace in his presence.

However, he’s supposed plan did not happen at all one year ago. Namjoon didn’t have much time to spare because of the hectic before-Christmas-break-week so when the inked “December 12” on top of his notebook paper loomed over his head, he almost freaked out. He can’t just break off the tradition; he can’t leave you hanging. So around 10:31, right after his tutoring session in the library, Namjoon went to Corner Shop, a stop shop right across Paperdreams and slipped in a set of socks with a cute duck design, because you love ducks, into the packaging, and sent it to DHL which was already in the middle of closing. It was a pretty shitty gift on his part but Namjoon did not regret it that day. That’s the only time he was free, Paperdreams is already closed, and you love ducks, so you’ll like it right? He only regretted his choice when December 22 came along with his package and lo and behold, a fucking Gucci sweater and a flabbergasting Louis Vuitton coat is revealed by the torn Christmas wrapper. Holy fucking hell.

MonJoon 10:49 PM

OMYGOD HOE

SunnyY/N 10:50 PM

HI HOE! LIKED IT?

MonJoon 10:50 PM

Umm, I’m shocked. Of course I like it but this. This is fucking expensive, hoe. This like costs a liver and a kidney. And I got you…something that’s not even worthy.

SunnyY/N 10:51 PM

I gave you that because I wanted to, Joon. I won’t be spending on just someone, it’s you, and you’re worth it. And no, oh my god, don’t call the socks unworthy! I LOVE THEM, SEE I’M ALREADY WEARING IT!!! \(>u<)/ \(>u<)/ \(>u<)/

- see 1 photo

I never knew you remembered small details of my preferences, hoe. This is really the first time someone got really pays close attention to the shits I sputter. So you do you baby boy, and smile for me.

MonJoon 10:52 PM

Okay, I’ll smile. See, the smile is there.

-see 1 photo

Although the guilt on my part will still reside in me. I promise I’ll do better next time. Also, it’s kinda weird you’re referring to me as baby boy when you’re just two months older than me.

SunnyY/N 10:53 PM

Why just a picture of your mouth?

MonJoon 10:53 PM

Cause you won’t show me your face so might as well be mysterious about mine

SunnyY/N 10:54 PM

Smart ass. No need to feel guilty about anything, hoe. I know I’ll always be greater than you :P :P :P HAHAHHAHA JOKE. And!!! I can call you baby boy whenever I want. Call me baby girl? ;) ;) ;)

MonJoon 10:54 PM

Mean…and ew, no.

SunnyY/N 10:55 PM

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

Around January, Y/N lands in Incheon airport and a couple of pictures from the paparazzi revealed her sporting an oversized Prada gingham trench coat, like the queen Namjoon knows she always is. It’s only peculiar that she’s wearing blue green socks with duck print inside her platform heels, the same design he got for you. He only shrugged and blushed, over-exaggerating his mini imagination that Y/N is compatible to him because she got the same taste in his mind over and over through the whole day.

However, that is back then, completely different from now. Now, when he realized the coincidences between Y/N and your lifestyle and his gifts are no longer coincidences, but a shocking truth. Now, when his best person in the world, the person that he’s cried, ranted, and depended on, was the same fucking person as the girl he imagined he’ll marry in his stupid little fantasy. Now, when it’s the 15th of December and he still has nothing by his side to put into his package.

In the hazy four o’clock chillness surrounding his room, Namjoon knows everything has to change…except his interaction with you. He’s still queasy about how to feel around you when his infatuation for the celebrity Y/N and his plainly platonic friendship with the SunnyY/N you is completely on different poles. But whatever, all he knows that for you, he’ll still be the same MonJoon you befriended for two years. He doesn’t want you to feel you’re alone now in this friendship especially when Christmas is just around the corner.

Wrapping himself in the Louis Vuitton coat you gave to him last year, he locks his door and heads out in the cold. His wallet is heavy and warm on his breastpocket, stuffed with bills he saved from his tutoring sessions.

The windchimes sound when Namjoon lets himself in the shop. The peachy orange lighting is warm on the cold of his hands, the bookcases are colored in dark sepia almost rivaling the brownness of the hot chocolate, the gardenia by the entrance is fresh pink, and now it’s accompanied by a soft lavender aster. Paperdreams hasn’t changed at all.

“Oh hi, you’re here again!”

Namjoon’s mouth opens, looking at the lady on the counter, the one who assisted him before, in surprise. “But I-I didn’t come here last year. I mean–you remember me?”

The lady smiles, the same warm, comforting smile she gave him two years ago. “I don’t have frequent customers so when one enters, I practically remember them. I think I still got that photographic memory when I was young, huh?”

She chuckles and Namjoon gives her a timid smile. “O-ohh.”

“But anyway, I’ll really remember you. Most of the people that come here just spend a minute or a half hour to hastily grab something to buy for a gift. You’re my only customer who took his time choosing for a gift.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, son. Quite a long time at that,” the lady giggles. “I’ve never seen someone mull over what book to buy for a friend for two hours. Must have been a special person for you, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon smiles, “she’s special. Very special.” The warmth of his face was personifying itself as the blush that runs from his cheeks to his ears. Namjoon coughs right after letting the things he uttered sink in. What the hell is he doing uttering sappy shit in front of a stranger? He tucks his scarf closer to his mouth, bashful and suddenly feeling hot amidst the freezing season. You’re special, that’s for sure…but that special? The special kind of special? He doesn’t fucking know. Hell, he doesn’t even make sense now–

“Indeed she is. I hope you can find what you’re looking for here. Just call me when you need assistance, son.”

“T-thank you,” Namjoon mutters before rushing to the aisles. Why the lady resembles a mother asking her son about his first ever crush? He doesn’t fucking know. Namjoon burries his face for a millisecond in his scarf. God, he’s a mess; a blushing kind of mess and he doesn’t know why.

Going through books upon books, journals and stationery upon another, Namjoon seems to find nothing that can match what he wants for you. He already spent a whole ass hour jumping from bookcases and bookcases and just–he feels this shop has the answer to his dilemma and he already felt that the moment he entered but why can’t he find anything? Why–

Namjoons stops in his tracks. Why can’t he provide the answers himself? An idea pops in his head like a sudden flash of light and Namjoon scurries to the counter and grabs a couple of Christmas cards. The lady may have looked confused at his choice but when he bids her goodbye as he exits, the knowing smile on her face is enough of an encouragement that he practically has the answer in his hands. All he has to do is to make them work.

The 12th transgresses to the 13th and to the 14th and six more days before a familiar package is delivered by his doorstep. The midnight nightsky is a mix of navy blues and violet indigos, a contrast to the bright white light filling the corners and spaces of Namjoon’s room. His feet pads on the flooring in excited skips, his fingers swift on the screen of his phone.

MonJoon 10:47 PM

HEY HOE, TIME TO OPEN GIFTS

SunnyY/N 10:47 PM

WAIT OMG I HAVEN’T FOUND MY PACKAGE YET

MonJoon 10:48 PM

Surprise, Y/N. It’s not a package. Here’s your gift. Merry Christmas!

- Open link

Let’s video call before you click on that and I tear this cover up?

The video call alert tone only lasts for five seconds and before he knows it, the screen of his phone is displaying your room, the one he saw in his birthday, and you’re there staring at him. All pretty in your dandelion sweater, cheeks pink and you’re hair tousled. Namjoon will still never get used to the image of you staring at nothing but him.

“What is this, Joon,” you chuckle. “Oh my god, this is kinda terrifying.”

“I swear to you, it’s not! Now let’s both open our gifts in the count of five, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Five.” Namjoon looks at you, you’re staring at the corner of your screen, hand already positioned to click the link.

“Four.” You looks so cute giggling. Namjoon stifles his own with a bite of his lip.

“Three.” You sneak him a glance and Namjoon stills and he tells you to just focus on the link. You must not see the blushing mess he is right now.

“Two.” You didn’t heed to what he said and just looked at him. He mouths something you didn’t catch and Namjoon smiles.

“One!” The sound of the tearing paper resounds within his room and Namjoon has yet to zero in on your gift–a rolex watch and a Murakami book that will surely blow his mind– before the sound of a melody and a beat starts on your side of the world. Namjoon lets the warmth in his chest spread all over his body.

“We’re born in the moonlight and daytime at the same hour.”

Start and end our day at the same minute.

Live and die in the moments at the same second.

But we’re not different, you and me.

For we live in each other’s presence,

Die in each other’s absence.

Still confusing, but you get the essence, right?

Haah, I just wanna live with you

Breathe the same air as you

Have me as close to you

But in the meantime it’s December

And you’re all and everything I remember

So have a merry Christmas with me

Through the screen, through the phone

Everything virtual; real and never alone

Yeah, we’ll never be alone

Merry Christmas, my only friend

Merry Christmas, my best person

You’re never alone and so am I

‘Cause I got you and you got me

And we’re everything we’ll ever want.”

Everything and all we’ll ever need.

Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

The beats faze into silence and when you’re not saying anything at all. Namjoon starts. “I-I- you know how I make music from time to time and I just thought it would be really nice to gift you one- exert the same effort as you in these exchanges, and I-I know it sounds scratchy but-“

“Are you kidding, Joon?” you cut him off, eyes wide and cheeks redder than before. Namjoon shuts up and imagines the color painted on the apple of your cheeks is not because of the cold but beause of him. “I-fuck, this is fucking beautiful, I’m–”

“Speechless?” he supposes.

You nod, tucking your shaking fingers beneath the table and away from his view. “Yeah. This is wonderful, oh my god,” you breathe out. A song? A fucking song? By him?! You’re not prepared for this, you’re not– fucking hell, your heart is still pounding a euphoric symphony in your ears and you hope it won’t be so loud as to reach his side. He can’t know how much he’s affected you already.

“You like it?”

“O-of course, Joon. Oh my god, I just have to calm down, this is– too beautiful for me.”

Namjoon laughs, throwing his head back and you have to gulp down the butterflies that tried to escape from you at the sound of his melodious laugh. He acquiesces to your reply and stays still in his chair, looking at you, smiling.

How much luck do you have in your hands right now? You practically don’t know. All you could see is your muse sitting in front of you like how you’ll imagine him to be when you write your songs. He won’t know yet, that’s for sure. With his timid smiles and the shyness that covers his face in flaring redness in your previous video calls, you need to make him comfortable first with seeing you as nothing but the same SunnyY/N he befriended. But he’s making it so hard when he’s so handsome just…sitting there.

Gathering your senses, you fix your seat and flash him a smile. A few seconds pass before you break into a giggle and he followed suit. “God, we’re so weird.”

“Yeah, hoe, I know,” he gasps in between guffaws.

“God, you surprised me, Joon. My gift to you is nothing too special and here you are–”

He scrunches his face, still laughing. “I’m pretty sure a Rolex is not nothing too special when it will cost me another lifetime of paychecks just to afford this.”

You trip over your words. “But-but compared to this, I– look at how mess of I am and just this is art, oh my god.

“I’m still shocked, too, Y/N. I’m sure I’ll completely lose my shit once the idea of owning a fucking Rolex will sink in. Especially later when the probability of Seokjin asking me where the hell I got this watch when I’m a poor ass is not a possibility at all but a definite reality.”

“Then tell him it’s from your online friend.”

“Yeah, so he’ll push more the idea of my online girl-space-friend is actually my online girlfriend. Maybe he’ll even propose the idea you’re my sugar mommy who adores me too much.”

You choke on your spit. Online girlfriend, hell yeah you wanna be That.

Unbeknownst to your misery of stifling excited squeals of happiness, Namjoon giggles an thinks his joke is really nice and starts laughing…which is not helping especially when your heart balloons with too much affection for him, but anyway, seeing him happy makes you happy. That’s everything you need.

When the chuckles have died down and the longing gazes slipped past notice, you decide to say something sensible for the first time in the evening. The daylight in your room is competing with the darkness of his. Even when you’re entirely apart, you’ve never felt this close to a person before.

“Joon, I really love your gift. I’ve never been this grateful to a person before.”

“Me too,” he grins. “I actually have never been this happy before.”

You return his grin, heart happy at what he said. “Best Christmas ever?”

“Best Christmas ever.”

It really is the best one you’ve had and you let the thought warm your heart for days. Happiness thrums in your veins and the effect of the exchange still hasn’t worn off even after you ended the call, reluctantly on both sides might you add, in the midnight. You throw yourself on the wide expanse of your bed. Namjoon has already claimed more area in your heart than what is necessary for a friend. Revealing this truth to him will have to wait. For now, you’ll play his song over and over until your heart memorizes every single bit of it.

You’ll definitely never forget this day.

1 New Message!

SunnyY/N 4:30 AM

OH MY FUCKING GOD, HOE, YOU SENT ME CHRISTMAS CARDS TOO?!!! FILLED WITH LYRICS OF WHAT I SUPPOSE ARE MORE SONGS BY YOU

MonJoon 4:31 AM

Yes, hoe. And it’s 4 right now here. Thanks for waking me up.

SunnyY/N 4:32 AM

Oops, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep now. You’re gonna go home to Ilsan today! You need that energy!

MonJoon 4:33 AM

No, I’m up. Can’t sleep. And yeah, more songs I made for you… I hope you like them. I can’t let you hear them yet. They’re still…scratchy.

SunnyY/N 4:34 AM

I’m sure they’ll turn out great ♥♥♥

SunnyY/N 4:35 AM

And yeah, please let me know beforehand before you drop anything. You’re gonna make my heart combust again.

MonJoon 4:36 AM

I’ll try ;)

Namjoon raises his head and huffs. Make your heart combust? Not before you make his own heart burst first!

SunnyY/N 4:37 AM

Have a great day, Joon ♥♥♥

MonJoon 4:37 AM

You too. Stay safe, Y/N.

Namjoon closes his phone and stares at his ceiling. It’s winter but why does it feel like summer? He’s feeling hot and flustered all over-Goddamn it, what are you doing to him?!

#bangtan bookclub #bangtanarmynet #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts fluff #s+m #namjoon scenarios #namjoon reactions #sweet holidays 2018 #happy holidays #namjoon x you #bts x you

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bravonovel · 3 years

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My Royal Kidnapper novel read online - Prince Thayer and Kennedy Gilby - Bravonovel

My Royal Kidnapper

https://www.bravonovel.com/my-royal-kidnapper-8411

My Royal Kidnapper novel is a romance story about Prince Thayer and Kennedy Gilby.

Blurb : Kennedy Gilby works hard for years for the promotion. Before she takes the risk, traveling to the country she never heard of for the assignment, she meets a green-eyed, smoldering hot, and devilishly handsome Thayer that any woman will wrap their hands around him. She just broke up with her ex, yet she’s already dreaming of His Royal hotness in disguise. When she learns the real identity of the arranged to be engaged prince, she runs away. Thayer Camren Gattewarde Braynburd works hard for the monarch. When the King becomes ill, Prince Thayer decides to bring a woman of his own choice even if the time is not on his side. The moment Thayer lays an eye on Kennedy, he knows she’s the one. He is used to getting what he wants. When he realizes he’s madly in love with her, he kidnaps her, not only once but twice. To Kennedy, she’s not ready to give up her career and her ordinary life, but the charming prince is willing to give up his title to make his future wife fall in love.

You can read this novel online on Bravonovel and keep track of the latest chapters

My Royal Kidnapper novel Chapter 1

KENNEDY

My life just takes a detour.

My playlist blasted on my Airpods. I didn’t give a crap taking off my sunglasses as I entered the lobby of the 45th story building, ignoring the incredulous looks from the receptionist in a dark blue uniform throwing at me. At the back of my mind—what, bitch?

I punched my floor number as I entered the elevator. A few ladies and men in suits joined me.

I hoped Siena came to work early. I was not in a mood to answer her twenty questions right now.

Thankfully, I arrived on the 20th floor. I excused myself from where I stood at the back. As soon as the elevator shut closed behind me, I took off my Airpods and checked my watch—I was two minutes late, which never happened since I started my intern at Style four years ago.

My heels clomped heavily along the tile floor. Pairs of eyes pinned at me as I followed the aisle toward my cubicle, ignoring my bleeding heart. I threw my bag on my desk, took off my eyeglasses, and shoved it into my bag.

Taking a seat, I hit the power button on the desktop. I had been good at compartmentalizing. What was so hard of ignoring a bad breakup? It was not that he was the only one has a dick in town.

My hand froze around the mouse by the clearing of the throat. Not much of trying not to get someone’s attention when you arrived late, eh?

“What?” I focused my gaze on the screen.

“You’re late. It never happened. Ever.” It was Serenity. We started our intern the same day.

“I woke up late,” I lied. In truth, I barely slept last night. I had not gotten a blink on an empty stomach. I couldn’t swallow the food when upset—no, raging mad like a bull seeing red.

“Don’t you set your alarm like three hours ahead? Your alarm is on the nightstand, and you have a phone, Kenny.”

I clicked the folder on the screen, even if I could feel her searing stare at me. “I’m working. I should compensate my two minutes late, Sere.”

She snorted. At the corner of my eye, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Your eyes told me that you’re right. You didn’t get enough sleep, but that’s not the Kennedy Gilby I knew, babe. What’s wrong?”

I shut my eyes closed and inhaled deeply before I looked at her. Serenity was kind and loving. She was the kind of friend that you wanted on your side. The kind of friend who agreed to your terrible decisions because she didn’t want to hurt your feelings. She was also adorable with her big bright blue eyes and curly long bronze hair. Of course, all of us working in Style was fashionable with free wardrobes weekly.

“He broke up with me.” I sighed.

“What the freak—” She looked around when she figured her voice came out louder. “That freaking Gorilla Raoul?” Her eyes grew even bigger. “What happened? Didn’t you just move in with him two months ago?”

That son of a bitch. He was persistent in asking me to move in with him. Then he just broke up with me with the clichest speech of the clichiest—it’s not you, it’s my crap. To be honest, something just shifted the moment I moved in. We’d been dating for almost a year now, and it was good. Then he just went cold feet on me.

“He told me it was not working.” Well, he was right. We hadn’t had sex in two weeks—either he said he was tired, or he had a deadline to meet. Apparently, working in one of the best architectural firms needed a lot of his time.

“He’s an a-hole, Kenny. You deserve someone better.” That was what I thought. Serenity was the kind of friend I wanted right now. She squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll help you move out. I know just the right movers.”

I pasted a small smile on my lips. “Thanks. Now can I get back to work?”

“I understand. You’re still in the denial stage. If you need a drinking buddy, I’m here.”

I rolled my eyes. “You could barely take a single shot. Siena and Faith are better drinking buddies, but you’re welcome to tag along and be our DD. I could use a drink or two.”

“Count me in then.” She smiled.

My chest constricted again. I understood that sometimes, men freaked out when they used to be living alone. They needed some space, but I couldn’t think of any reasons why he broke up with me. He was kind and considerate. Sex was great. So what had gone wrong? I didn’t think there was a third party involved because Raoul had been thoughtful and faithful. He would never cheat on me.

“Asshole.”

“Who?”

I jerked in my seat. “Hey, Sien.”

“Is he the one who put eye bags under your eyes?”

I didn’t have much time to put on eye patches. “I don’t know what are you talking about, Sien. I just got insomnia last night.”

“Wow! You looked lively without sleep. How much did you consume caffeine?”

I stared at Siena—the man-hater, but she had a strong personality. She could deal with difficult people. I always envied her strawberry blonde.

“I’ll be fine tonight. I promise to take two cups of Camomile tea.” I wanted to roll my eyes, but it was cut short when our big boss emerged from her glass office door.

I rose from my seat. Today, she would have a big announcement that I’d been waiting for for almost three years now. My skin tingled in anticipation.

If there was the Devil wears Prada, Madam Alessia Hearst, our Executive Editor wore Hermes from bags, scarves, and belts. Louboutin for her shoes, and I didn’t have to mention the choice of her jewelry and watches. She had her own stylist, but she barely agreed to interviews. She took her private life seriously. If she did, it only focused on her job, not her personal life.

Alessia Hearst remained a mystery to me. But man, she was sophisticated, classy, and stood tall at least five feet, nine inches tall. She always kept her chestnut hair short. What I loved the most was her medium skin to my Porcelain.

“What the hell is wrong with your eyes, Miss Gilby?”

I gulped. I could feel everyone’s gaze on me. My face heated when Alessia kept her gaze on me, waiting for my reply.

“I had a hard time looking for a new apartment last night. I was planning to move out of my asshole ex’s apartment—” My hand clamped my mouth.

My colleagues chuckled around me, but I was also known to have confidence. So, I stood straight and rolled my eyes.

“What’s funny with moving out? We women should never depend on men. When a relationship can’t make you happy anymore, then get the hell out of it before it strangles you, depresses you. It’s ugly. Your mental health is important, and the pain will heal than staying in a toxic relationship.”

The entire floor went silent—a deafening silence.

Wow! She must be single.

“Now, my announcement. I’ll be taking a week’s leave starting on Monday. When I come back, I’ll be announcing my chosen candidates for our new senior editors. Now back to work.” She turned around.

Disappointment cut through me like a knife. I’d been working hard for the past years. I knew if I was good at it and not. What the hell was wrong with announcing it today? Was she planning to change her mind when she came back?

After a few seconds of excruciating silence, she called my name. Yay!

“Kennedy?” Alessia just called me by my name. She was still holding the door for me. Oh, my God. This is it!

Heat rose to my cheek.

“Yes?” I strode in her direction. “Alessia.”

She did not reply but closed the door behind us. It was not the first time I was in her office. The creative lighting and geometric designs had her personal touch. Incorporated with bold colors, it added sparks of creativity, excitement, and at the same time, a calming effect.

I took a seat on the sofa a few steps away from her desk.

“I’ve checked your portfolio carefully. I admit that I was hard to be pleased and impressed.”

“Thank you.” I smiled.

“You’re good at what you do—” But I felt there was a but at the end of her sentence.

Crushed by disappointment, I dropped my gaze.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Alessia. Just get to the point.”

…...

Continue to read the chapter 2 of the novel My Royal Kidnapper

https://www.bravonovel.com/my-royal-kidnapper-8411/chapter-2-216730

Read more exciting novels on Bravonovel App

https://www.bravonovel.com/download-bravonovel-app

#My Royal Kidnapper #Prince Thayer #Kennedy Gilby #Bravonovel #stories #novel #romance fiction #read online #online novel #book

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saeyounggi · 7 years

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hereafter [saeyoung choi/707]

hello! so, here’s my first mystic messenger fanfiction! it’s been a year since i wrote an actual fanfiction, so i hope i’m not too rusty. also, i wanted to write for mysme back in october, but i lacked the time so hAHA here *throws fic at your feet* please accept this orz. ALSO, i might continue this as a series, if people like this one! it would basically be 707 actually using doing those actions and date ideas that he got from movies. we’ll see. if you have any requests, feel free to send them my way! i don’t own the characters; saeyoung was created by the cheritz team, and you own yourself ;) i hope you enjoy!

pairing: saeyoung choi x mc / 707 x mc

type: fluff (super high school level fluff)

point of view: second person / mc

summary: an early leave from work allows you to discover saeyoung’s rough plans for future romantic escapades. based on a headcanon of mine that saeyoung is actually a cheesy yet awkward romantic, so he is fond of googling romantic movies and romantic actions and makes notes of the techniques he likes. for the future, of course. ;)

word count: 2230

listen: Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You by Arctic Monkeys

HEREAFTER

God Seven was no lover – this much you knew.

The beginning of your relationship started slowly, almost agonizingly so, but you couldn’t really blame him. He was a socially inept hacking prodigy, who spent more time talking to his RoboCat than actual people. You had to break down many, many walls just to get to his soft heart, and even then, he still felt guarded. Not that you minded, but sometimes it did feel like you were teaching a baby to walk.

He would shy away from your kisses, and your subtle fingertip brushes would immediately lead to him jamming his hand into his pocket. Your hugs would leave him a blushing, fumbling mess, and it would push him to awkwardly wrap his own arms around yours. Hell, he looked like he was about to have a heart attack when you first told him that you loved him.

Once the two of you had finally settled into the whole dating she-bang, Saeyoung began to be more comfortable at skinship. He would always take the time to profess his love verbally once in a while, and he would proceed to tease you about the growing blush on your face afterwards. He was still an awkward mess, yes, but he was excellent company (and an ahhh-mazing kisser at that).

Saeyoung wasn’t quite sure how to perform romantic actions and would often fumble with his attempts. More often than not, his attempts at wooing you ended in shared peals of laughter on the living room carpet. That alone was enough for the both of you. Besides, it was endearing to see a grown man struggle with the plights of dating. Oh, but when he put effort into it, which he always does, he definitely knew how to make you swoon.

Today, naturally, was one of the many times he proved his love to you.

Your shift at the local café ended early, allowing you to stop at a local convenience store to buy Saeyoung a beautiful pack of Honey Buddha Chips. Ever since you moved in with him, he had pushed himself to pursue a healthier lifestyle. This meant getting rid of the boxes upon boxes of Honey Buddha Chips and Ph D. Pepper. While you were initially against this, since you knew just how much he loved his daily junk food fix, he insisted he wanted to switch to a better lifestyle so he could live much longer with you. You easily gave in after that statement. (Plus his puppy-dog eyes were too much for your poor heart.) So, you settled with cooking him delicious and healthy meals daily and surprising him with a bag or two from time to time.

Your espadrilles-clad feet stopped at the front of you and Saeyoung’s humble home. Ever-since the RFA Party, Saeyoung had wanted to officially move in with you. Well, he technically begged you to live with him, which was an easy request to grant. After all, you wanted to be in his company as much as he wanted to be in yours. It was similar to living with him in Rika’s apartment, with all his shenanigans and jokes and the addition of a bit more amorous moments. Despite your relationship having a slow start, you knew the whole moving-in was definitely the right move for the both of you.

You fumbled slightly with your purse, reaching past the bag of chips to grab the house keys. You slid it in easily, and with a click, you entered your shared abode. You quietly took off your shoes and placed them on the rack. You grinned as you heard nothing but silence. Saeyoung was a homebody, so the lack of clacking keypad keys told you that he was taking his daily afternoon nap. His body clock was an absolute mess, so he usually spent wee hours of the morning working and the hours of the afternoon catching on much-needed sleep.

You stepped into the dining room, planning to stash his beloved chips away before he woke up. Instead of an empty dining area, however, you were greeted by the sight of Saeyoung’s vermillion hair and the bright glare of his trusty laptop. You stopped in your tracks, breath hitching in your throat as you surveyed to see if he was awake or not. The slow rise and fall of his chest and the hunched position he had told you he was fast asleep. You sighed as you slowly made your way towards the sleeping Saeyoung. You carefully placed your purse on the dining table as you looked over at him.

Sheets of paper cluttered half of the table, while a few wadded up ones had fallen onto the tiled floor below it. His bumblebee-colored eyeglasses were atop a stack of papers to his right, and the bright glare of his laptop indicated that he has fallen asleep not too long ago. Words were scrawled over the sheets of paper in your boyfriend’s rushed handwriting, and you couldn’t help but be intrigued with what you saw.

“ROMANTIC ACTIONS I CAN DO (´ ω `♡)” was scrawled quickly at the top of the first sheet of paper, making you stifle a laugh at the messily drawn kaomoji in the title. Your wide eyes scanned the paper, realizing that it was a list of sorts, with titles of romance movies scribbled at the side of each item.

“One, blast Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes on an old-school Boombox,” you mumbled under breath, smiling ever-so slightly at the clear reference to the movie, Say Anything. The list sported similar items to this, some with Saeyoung’s own notes jotted underneath it. The heat in your cheeks steadily rose as you read items such as kiss her in the pouring rain, take her stargazing (with or without a telescope), and going to a drive-in on the list. You were pretty sure Saeyoung had been taking notes from the recent romance movies that you two had been watching.

“Fifteen, serenade to her in public while running from authorities,” you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing at the very idea of Saeyoung running from people like Vanderwood while serenading to you. You could clearly hear his hearty laughter ringing in your ears as he belted out Frank Sinatra’s Can’t Take My Eyes Off You in front of a mass of strangers.

Your eyes drifted over to his laptop, eyes widening at the number of tabs open on his browser. All of them had the same topic: romantic locations for dates. There was a wide range of locations, ranging from beach resorts to adrenaline rides to simple lone parks for peace and quiet.

Your heart tightened in your chest, and you couldn’t help but burst into a wide smile at your boyfriend’s cute actions. You had wondered, after all, what he kept on doing on his laptop. He couldn’t have spent that much time programming and hacking, so you knew he had to be doing something as equally important. He must’ve put hours into planning and researching all this, you thought to yourself. The thought of him spending sleepless nights poring over every detail of these dates made you feel like you had fallen all over again for the meme-loving man.

You were pulled back to reality by the sound of rustling papers. You turned your attention to the dazed Saeyoung, whose eyes widened at the fuzzy sight of someone leaning over the table. “Wh-What in the-,” he started, before you pulled him in for a hug. He stiffened at first, unsure of how to react, but the familiar feeling of your arms around his was enough to make him relax underneath your touch. The lingering and strong scent of metal and oil told you that he had been playing around with RoboCat earlier that day. He truly felt like home. You pulled away, a dopey smile gracing your face.

Saeyoung reached out to grab his spectacles from the table; a smile gracing his own face at the sight of you. “Welcome home,” he yawned out, before his eyes widened at the realization that you had caught him in act. He stood up abruptly, stretching out his arms to prevent you from seeing his plans. A chuckle escaped from your lips, telling him that his attempt at hiding his plans were in vain. He sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides.

“I know I’m shit at this dating and feelings thing, but-,” he began, before you cut him off with a quick kiss square on his lips. His eyes widened, as his face began to flush into a deep red blush, a color you had grown fond of seeing on him. You pulled away, immediately shaking your head as your hand grasped his tightly.

“You are the best cross-dressing hacker boyfriend in the universe,” you tell him, interlacing your fingers together and bringing it up your lips for a gentle kiss. His gaze is intense yet gentle, and he lets out a chuckle as he brings your hands to his own lips.

“Of course! I’m known as God Seven for a reason!” he declares proudly, moving aside to show off the very thing he had planned on hiding from you. You rolled your eyes ironically, letting your own soft laughter escape your lips.

The both of you stayed like that for a moment, laughing with fingers interlaced together. Most of your life had become a montage of moments like these, pure and sweet, and while he did have rough days, like everyone else, you made sure you both went through it together. In the end, he always owned up to his mistakes, and you did too.

Perhaps that’s why you couldn’t see yourself loving anyone else but him.

“I’m sorry if I couldn’t tell you why I was more tired recently,” he explained, nodding over at the stack of papers. “As you can see, it was meant to be a surprise for you.”

“You are such a cheesy romantic,” you say, continuing to sport your wide grin. He blushed, huffing slightly as he squeezed your hand.

“Well, I can’t let my beautiful girlfriend steal the entire spotlight. Besides,” he paused to smile genuinely at you. He lowered himself to your height, planting a soft kiss at the top of your head. “If it meant making you happy, I would’ve been happy doing much, much more than this.”

Saeyoung slowly let go of your hand and moved over to organize the cluttered papers. You moved over to help him as well, catching names such as Paris and Japan in some of the printed papers. Your heart leapt in your chest as you let out a small happy sigh.

“What?” he asked, eyes tinged with curiosity. You shook your head, words slipping out of your mouth before you could even word them properly. “It feels like you’re planning for a honeymoon,” you say, eyebrows wiggling.

“Oh,” he pauses for a moment, as if taken aback by your words, before continuing. “Well, if I was planning for our actual anniversary, then I probably would’ve looked up how much it costs to rent a huge rocket.”

“So you’re telling me you want to have a honeymoon in space?” you said in mock surprise. He pouted at your response, eyeglasses slipping ever-so slightly from the bridge of his nose. Holy shit, how did you ever manage to score a guy like him?

“Of course! We’ll get married at a space station, have a honeymoon in space, and start a reality television show up there!” he says, pushing up his glasses in a stereotypical anime fashion. He lets out a chain of haughty laughter. “We’ll name it Space Soldier 707!”

“And I’ll be Space Cadet 606!” you say, forming your hands into a finger gun and mimicking shooting at him. He clutched his chest and fell to the floor, acting like he had been shot before uttering in amusement, “You’re definitely my Number One space partner!”

“Hah, correction: I am your one and only space partner,” you say, quickly moving to grab the bag of chips you had bought earlier before things could get even more ridiculous. “Well, at least I should be after buying you your beloved chips.”

Saeyoung’s eyes widened like that of a child, lips cracking open to form an exaggerated look of wonder. He quickly leapt up from the tiled floor and reached out to grab the lone pack from your hands. You readily gave it to him, and he looked like he could cry. You reminded yourself never to get in the way of Saeyoung and his junk food fix. “A correction, my dearest [Name], to your earlier statement,” he says, breaking open the bag of chips and grinning like a child on Christmas Eve.

“You are my one and only partner, beyond the bounds of time and space. You are my life’s partner.”

Your heart practically cart-wheeled in your chest from hearing that confession, and you made a mental note to grant him a feverish make-out session in the bedroom, after your usual anime binge-watching session. God Seven was no lover, indeed, because he was not bound to the earthly description of lover. No, the English language was not enough to define your man. He was your missing piece, the half of your whole, your one and only Defender of Justice.

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