#Feather Theme Paper Gift Bags | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seungkw1 · 8 days

Text

pretty little present — smg

♡ pairing: bf!mingi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut ♡ wc: 2.5k ♡ warnings: dom!mingi, sub!reader, size kink (obviously), reader wears lingerie, mingi picks up reader and carries them, masturbation (f. & m.), oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), multiple orgasms (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), dacryphilia, possessiveness, creampie, reader gets one (1) hickey, pet names (princess, doll, babygirl), great aftercare, fluff ending ♡ a/n: i don’t normally write atz but bestie @myhimbomingi requested a mingi fic and i absolutely said yes!! i had such a fun time writing him hehe

The soft light of early dawn filters through your eyelids as you slowly drift into consciousness. You roll over, flopping your arm over your sleeping boyfriend to snuggle up next to him - but your hand hits nothing but the bedsheets. You sleepily pry your eyes open to see his side of the bed vacant. You grab your phone to check your texts - sure enough, you have a message from Mingi, sent at 6:14am:

good morning babe :) sorry to leave without saying goodbye but i didnt wanna wake u, u looked so cute!! i had to leave early for work today but i promise i’ll make it up to u! i left u a present on the counter, we’ll put it to good use tonight ;) love you ❤️

You were planning on going back to sleep, but now you're simply too curious. You hop out of bed and make your way to the kitchen. There, on the counter, you see a flat, gift-wrapped box - creamy white in color with baby pink ribbons tying it together. Whatever it is, it looks expensive. You untie the pastel bow and remove the lid. Underneath several layers of crisp white tissue paper, you find your present: a lingerie set.

The set is jet black, made of silky mesh adorned with lace and satin ribbons. It’s light as a feather, buttery soft to the touch - clearly a luxury item. You've never worn anything like it in your life, but it's beautiful.

You pull your phone out to text your boyfriend.

got your gift, hurry home to me ;)

The typing bubble immediately pops up. Within seconds he responds.

i will baby 😘

The day passes at an annoyingly slow pace. You didn't have much to do today anyway, so you try to occupy yourself with chores, but you can't help daydreaming about what all Mingi will be doing to you later.

Finally, evening rolls around - Mingi will be home soon.

You take a quick shower to freshen up, afterwards donning your new lingerie set. With all its various straps it takes you a few minutes to even figure out how to get it on, but once you do you step in front of your full length mirror to check it out. You knew it was gonna be really pretty on, but you look fucking hot. You start thinking about how feral it's going to make Mingi - quickly ruining the delicate panties at the mere thought of him.

You grab some leggings and a big tshirt and throw them on. Another peek in the mirror verifies that you can't tell what you're wearing underneath the comfy clothes - all the more perfect to surprise him with.

A few minutes later, you hear the sound of the front door being unlocked and opened.

“Babe, I’m home!” Mingi calls out.

You flutter on over to meet him, practically skipping as you jump into his arms. He pulls you in for a big kiss, placing his large hand on the back of your head, petting your hair softly as he holds you tight against him. As his lips depart from yours, he smiles, gazing at you with pure love.

“I missed you,” you tell him as you place your hand on his chest.

“I missed you too,” he replies as he kisses your forehead.

“Soooo,” he starts as he tosses his bag down and kicks his shoes off. “What do you say we try out your new present?”

“Already?” you reply coyly. “Don’t you wanna eat dinner first?”

“It can wait,” he says as he lightly grabs onto your chin. His voice turns low and rumbly.

“I’d rather eat you.”

You giggle. “Well somebody's horny.”

“I've been thinking about you all day - thinking about how good you're gonna look in your gift.” He strokes your jaw with his thumb. “Gonna be my pretty little present.”

He grabs the hem of your tshirt, starting to pull it off of you.

“Why don't we get you out of these clothes already and-”

He stops. He’s lifted your shirt just enough to reveal the black lacy lingerie underneath.

“Oh.”

“One step ahead of you, baby,” you say sweetly.

“Fuckkkkk,” he groans. He helps you lift your shirt the rest of the way off, flinging it aside as he takes in the sight of you. The mesh lining of the bra is entirely sheer, putting your nipples on full display. The coolness of the room combined with how turned on you’re getting makes them perk up, poking through the delicate fabric.

He brushes his fingers over the protruding buds, making them even harder. He licks his lips as he gazes at you, the love in his eyes quickly turning into lust.

You reach for the waist of your leggings, sliding them off of you to reveal the rest of the set. You kick them aside, standing up before him to show yourself off.

“Turn around for me,” Mingi commands.

You give him a twirl, wiggling your butt as your back faces him. He grabs onto you with both hands, squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh in his hands.

You let him touch you for a few moments before you spin around, grabbing his hands as you pull him with you toward the bedroom.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” you tease.

Before you can take another step you feel your feet depart from the ground - Mingi grabs you by the waist, lifting you off the floor as he picks you up. He practically tosses you over his shoulder as he carries you down the hallway, his arm wrapped tightly around your torso as he holds you against him.

“Hey!!” you shout, but a big grin spreads across your face. So he’s in this kind of mood. You know he’s about to throw you around, have his way with you - even more so than normal. You feel your pussy clench in anticipation.

You arrive at the bedroom. Mingi tosses you onto the bed - you land on your back, resting upon the pile of pillows. You keep your legs open, showing off your pussy through the sheer fabric of your underwear.

“So wet for me already,” he says as he runs two fingers lightly across your clothed slit. He gives your cunt a gentle smack.

“Touch yourself for me, princess. Leave your panties on.”

You obediently slide your fingers to your core. Mingi quickly pulls his shirt over his head, then reaches for his belt. You begin stroking your clit through the soft mesh as you watch him remove his clothes, freeing the large bulge that has formed in his pants. He pulls his boxers down, his length springing free. As many times as you’ve had sex with him, you’re still always taken aback by his size. His cock is thick, long, hard - precum already dribbling from his tip. He strokes himself a few times as he watches you. You slip your fingers underneath your panties, sliding them into your opening. You moan softly at the sensation - but you know this is absolutely nothing compared to how much his cock is going to fill you up.

He watches you slowly fuck yourself for a minute, gripping his length in his fist. As you start to wriggle slightly to your own touch, he steps forward. You yelp as he grabs you by the ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the mattress. He kneels down, leaning against the bed, positioning his face in front of your cunt. His hands slide up the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up and into the bed, nearly folding you in half as he opens you up even further before him. He sticks his tongue out, dragging its tip ever so lightly over your clit through the panties - it’s enough to drive you insane.

“Mingi,” you whine, trying to push yourself into his mouth. He retracts his head, not letting you get what you want just yet.

“What’s that, baby?” he asks. The way he’s staring at you, you can tell he is dying to taste you - but he doesn’t miss the opportunity to taunt you a bit.

“Please,” you softly mumble under your breath.

“Use your words, doll. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“Want your mouth on me,” you manage to utter, still trying to push your cunt against his mouth - but his grip on you is too strong. “Want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” he asks, teasing you once more as his tongue dances over your pussy.

“God, yes,” you cry. You feel like you’re going to lose your mind if he delays any further.

“Or,” he continues as he reaches beneath the hem of your panties, pulling them aside. The coolness of the air hits your soaked core, countered by the hot exhales of Mingi’s breath against you. “Like this…”

He dives into you, his warm mouth greeting your cunt as his tongue traces between your folds. He sticks the tip into your hole - you’re so wet right now that it slips in with ease. You groan as he fucks you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit as he swirls his tongue around inside you. He pulls it out, flattening his tongue and licking a big stripe up your center before latching onto your clit. You cry out at the overpowering stimulation, writhing beneath Mingi’s strong arms as he sucks on the sensitive bud. A white-hot sensation swells in your gut, burning delightfully as you feel your orgasm approach. Your body tenses, your legs beginning to quiver as Mingi devours you. You reach for his head, grasping onto his hair as your climax takes over. You scream out Mingi’s name as you cum on his face, his tongue moving relentlessly against your clit as you ride out your high. He grips onto you until the very end, face buried in your pussy as you come down. Just when you think it’s over, he starts up again, sucking on your clit as he slips his fingers into you, curling them perfectly to reach your g-spot. Within moments, you’re cumming again, grinding against his tongue as overwhelming pleasure courses through your veins. He slows his motions, giving your clit a few last gentle licks as he slides his fingers out of you. They’re dripping wet, as is his entire chin - he places them in his mouth, licking them clean, making sure he doesn’t waste a single drop of you.

You lay there, your chest rising up and down with heavy breaths as you try to recover. Mingi crawls up to meet your face, kissing you slowly on the mouth as he lays his weight upon you - resting on his forearms so he doesn’t completely squish you. You feel his cock throbbing against your cunt as he makes out with you - you can just tell he is unbearably hard.

Mingi’s lips part from yours - barely, just enough so he can gaze into your eyes as he strokes your hair.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He nuzzles his head into your neck, sucking at your skin - lightly, but enough that you know it’ll leave a mark.

“Anything for my princess,” he whispers into your ear.

He stands up, pulling your hips toward him. He grabs onto the panties, ripping them off of you and throwing them aside. He lines his cock up with your entrance; he pushes just the head in, but he’s already stretching you out. Slowly he slides his full length into you - you cry out at the overwhelming fullness. He rests inside you for a few moments, letting you get used to his size. You begin shifting your hips, trying to ride his cock from beneath him. Mingi grins.

“So eager,” he coos, tracing his fingers over your stomach. “Are you ready babygirl?”

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, nodding your head swiftly.

He begins fucking you, steadily at first, but your cries quickly makes him increase his pace. Tears flow from your eyes as his thickness stretches you with each motion. He grasps tightly onto your hips, pulling you against him as he thrusts into you. He looks down at you, his pretty baby, losing all composure on his cock. He moans loudly, uninhibited - he doesn’t care if the whole world hears him. He wants everybody to know you’re his.

He reaches down, feeling your breasts through the lacy sheer bra.

“So pretty,” he groans. “So perfect, all mine.”

His hand slides down to your stomach, pushing down on your abdomen as he fucks you. The other reaches for your clit - you didn’t think you could possibly cum again, but the gentle pressure of his fingers combined with his cock nearly splitting you in half just feels too good.

“Gonna cum,” you manage to get out, barely able to speak through your cries of pleasure.

“Cum for me babygirl,” Mingi growls, very near his own release.

You cum on his cock, crying out his name as your walls squeeze around him - sending him over the edge. He releases, painting your insides with his hot white ropes. He grasps onto your hips, holding you down against him as his cock pulsates inside you. He breathes heavily, grunting as he gives you every last spurt of his cum. As he finishes, he holds still, his cock resting inside you. He leans over, careful not to pull out just yet - gently he grabs your jaw as he kisses you, his lips hungrily interlocked with yours.

“Wait right here baby,” he says softly as your mouths finally part. You groan as he carefully pulls his cock out of you, immediately missing the sensation. Mingi quickly makes his way to the bathroom; he returns with a small towel, doused in warm water. Gently he cleans you up, cautious as not to overstimulate you. As he finishes he tosses the towel back into the bathroom, scooping you up and pulling you into the bed with him. He tucks the both of you underneath the blankets, taking you in his arms as he nuzzles up against you.

“Are you cold?” he asks, kissing you on the forehead.

“Not with you here.”

“Good.”

You lay there in silence, deep breaths filling the air as you relax into each other's arms.

“Thanks for the present, baby,” you finally say, your voice soft and sleepy.

“You’re welcome, love.”

“You did completely rip it to shreds, though,” you remind him.

Mingi smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, I got a little carried away. You just looked too good.”

He cradles your cheek in his palm. “I’ll just have to get you another one,” he tells you with a kiss.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” you say as you snuggle up into him. “Just give me a few business weeks to recover from this please.”

He laughs, drawing you even closer into him. You begin to drift off to sleep, comfortable and warm in his embrace.

“Mingi?” you say softly.

“Yes, babe?”

“I love you.”

You feel his cheeks turn into a smile.

“I love you too, baby.”

#ren's fics ੈ♡₊˚•.#mingi #song mingi #mingi fics #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez fics #ateez smut #atz fics #atz smut #atz mingi #atz imagines #atz x reader #atz hard hours

354 notes · View notes

honeybuckin10 · 1 month

Text

Code Blue - a Hawks x fem!lawyer!reader One Shot

Summary: Pre-Meta Liberation Army Arc. A hero’s birthday party on a night off blurs the lines of professionalism between the Commission’s rising junior prosecutor and a certain winged hero when secrets are exchanged [wc 5.2k (I'm so sorry)].

Warnings (nsfw): swearing, drinking, workplace romance, mutual pining, angst and fluff, everyone’s a dummy, mature themes, smut-ish, heavy petting. Characters slightly aged up (mid-late 20’s).

a/n: first time writing for Hawks and/or MHA, would love feedback. please don't be a ghost reader!

Nights off for heroes were few and far between. So when they did happen, usually all Hawks wanted to do was catch up on much needed sleep. But it was Best Jeanist’s birthday, which was how he found himself begrudgingly ordering a round of drinks at the bar for the handful that had gathered to celebrate their friend and colleague.

For the sake of Best Jeanist, he did his best to hide the fact that he was in sensory overload. His feathers only amplified the already deafening bass of the live band, coupled with the loud conversations, and the clinking of dishes, glasses, and silverware.

“Happy birthday! Sorry I’m late,” he heard the squeaky voice behind him. He turned around to see you giving the birthday boy a friendly hug before handing him a small gift bag with a card sticking out. You were a prosecutor for the Hero Public Safety Commission’s District Attorney's Office. Due to the nature of your work, you crossed paths frequently with heroes to gather evidence and build case files to justly put away villains.

The first time Hawks met you, you bumped into him in line at the Public Records Department on the second floor of the courthouse. Literally. Your face was buried deep in a case file, the *click clack* of your heels echoing as they hit the linoleum floor. Not paying attention, you walked right into Hawks’ wings, causing you to drop the plethora of papers in your arms.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry I wasn’t paying attention!” you said, not even realizing at first who exactly you had bumped into, though you did think it was odd that you had to spit out a feather.

The halls of the courthouse, like any government building, were unfriendly, bureaucratic and slow. Annoyed, he was going to tell you to watch it. The words began to form in his mouth, but fizzled when he turned around and saw you crouched down awkwardly trying to gather all your papers, your range of motion clearly limited by your stiff skirt suit and precariously balanced in your heels. At one point your hair was probably pulled back in a sleek bun, but more than a few strands were now falling out of place. He felt bad. So instead of telling you off, he knelt down to help you pick up whatever was left on the floor.

“It’s ok, these things can be hard to miss sometimes.”

Confused, you looked up to meet golden irises and a sly smirk. Your already rosy cheeks deepened from pink to red upon realizing who was in front of you.

“Oh my God. Mr. Hawks Sir. I’m so sorry.” You immediately got to your feet, straightening out your posture. Your eyes fell from his face to the very prominent crimson wings that hung majestically behind him. You grimaced. “Wow I guess I was really out of it.”

“No worries.” He handed you back the rest of the strewn files, your fingers just grazing. “So… come here often?”

He earned a small laugh from you, finally able to put you at ease somewhat even if only for a moment. “No… or yes? I’m not really sure yet. This is my first case.” A newbie lawyer, of course. You gave a strained smile, but the furrow in your brow gave your nerves away.

“Ah, welcome to hell. Prosecutor or public defender?”

“Prosecutor.” He smiled.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other, then.”

“I hope so.” Ever the professional, he was sure you didn’t mean for it to come off as anything more than introductory pleasantries. But he couldn’t help the little beat his heart skipped that caused his wings to flutter slightly. He hoped you didn’t notice.

“NEXT!” The voice of the elderly woman at the front desk boomed, hoarse from years of yelling and cigarettes. Hawks took one more look at you as your eyes kept darting to your watch.

“Why don’t you go ahead of me?” he offered. He could have introduced you to Beyonce and he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten the same reaction. You looked like a little kid on Christmas morning, but you did your best to hide your eagerness.

“Are you sure Mr. Hawks?”

“I’m in no rush, I insist. And please, just Hawks.”

“You’re holding up the line, you have five seconds to decide before I’m kicking you both to the back,” the old lady deadpanned. You looked at each other, eyes wide, both biting back shit-eating grins.

“You heard her,” he said. He took a step back, bowing slightly with an arm extended to motion you through.

“Thank you,” you mouthed wordlessly to him as you slid past.

“Good luck.”

That was almost two years ago. Since then, you picked up more high-profile cases, including the arrest and sentencing of Stain and had begun to make a name for yourself as a rising junior prosecutor. Two years of various long and agonizing depositions, witness prep, thousands of boxes of files combed through, late night arraignments. Almost two years of brushing elbows in the trenches, and this was his first time seeing you outside of a work setting. But for your voice, he wasn’t sure if he would have recognized you.

Your hair, free from its ordinary confines, fell effortlessly down your shoulders and framed your face perfectly. Sure, occasionally he thought about what your body might look like out of a suit, but the reality was better than anything else his imagination could concoct. Had you always had curves there?

Hawks had always thought you were pretty. But being the Number Two Hero with a predominantly female fan base, he wasn’t necessarily phased by looks. What did phase him was that big brain of yours. You wouldn’t be good at your job if you weren’t insanely intelligent with a work ethic to boot. Hawks realized he had a crush on you after the first time he saw you try a case in person. It was a trial for one of the villains he had taken down and you enlisted him as a witness. Seeing you in court charm every single juror in your opening and closing statements, expertly cross-examining hostile witnesses, keeping your cool in the face of a disrespectful opposing counsel – that’s what got his heart going a mile a minute.

So now here you were in the wild, not in a suit, saying hello to everyone like the social butterfly you were. Your exposed skin was like the answer to a riddle he didn’t know he was trying to solve. He tried not to stare, staring was rude. Staring was also causing his wings to have a mind of their own, puffing up and fluttering away ever so slightly. He turned his back again to hide them, and took a sip of beer trying very much to go unnoticed.

“Um, excuse me ma’am. I’m going to need to see some license and registration for the absolute dump truck you got behind you,” said a devilish Mirko after tapping your shoulder. Your laughter rang out, cutting through the other noise in the bar. Hawks tried to pretend he didn’t hear it, though the corners of his mouth threatened to tug a smile out of him. She’s not wrong.

“Hawks, doesn’t y/n look good in this ‘fit?” He didn’t know how or when, but he was going to kill Mirko. He blamed it on her sixth bunny sense that she’d somehow sniffed out his feelings for you - though it was probably the fact that she noticed he stopped entertaining one-night stands months ago.

“Mirko, have you considered that y/n would like to have a night out without being harassed?” Even in the dim lights of the bar, he could tell your cheeks were flushed. And despite the nonchalant act he was trying to put on, he was sure his face was about the same.

“Hey, I was just giving a compliment,” the bunny said mischievously. She gave Hawks a wink as she backed away, but not before mouthing “If you don’t fuck her, I will.”

“Hi,” you said cheekily, blissfully unaware of the chaos around you.

“Hi Counselor,” he said, no longer able to contain his smile. He dipped down to give you a hug, hoping the way he inhaled your perfume went undetected. His senses were permeated with vanilla and cedarwood, followed by the smell of your floral shampoo. The warmth of your body spread across his chest, and he tried to memorize the way your soft hands felt so small resting on his shoulders. Reluctantly he pulled away.

“So how much catching up do I have to do?” you asked. Hawks swirled around the last of his beer.

“This is my second, but I can’t speak for the rest of my – uh - colleagues,” he said as he glanced at Mirko who was now forcing Best Jeanist to take a shot.

“Ah, I see,” you said slowly, following his line of sight.

“So what can I get you to drink?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You buying me a drink, Hawks?” He rolled his eyes as you elbowed him in his side wiggling your eyebrows.

“I needed a refill anyways and my tab’s already open. Don’t let it get to your head,” he teased back.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will.” The bartender placed two beers in front of you. You took a long sip, as you watched the hero swirl is drink. Something was off and you were going to get to the bottom of it.

What Hawks was actually thinking as he stared at his beverage, was that he suddenly had no idea what to say or do with his hands.

“So are you going to spend the rest of the night cowering in the corner? Didn’t think you’d be the wet blanket of the bunch.” He nearly spat out his beer.

“I’m not a wet blanket,” he said defensively.

“Prove it.” You stuck out your hand. “Since you bought me a drink, I think I owe you a dance,” you said with a smirk. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“You owe me nothing except your friendship.”

“Oh we’re friends now? I thought we were colleagues,” poking fun at his earlier comment. He didn’t like the hole you were digging him into. He could flirt with a brick wall, yet for some reason the workplace flirtations that had escalated for two years between you two were not translating to the place where they would be most appropriate.

“I, uh, tend to get in the way. Better not.” He tilted his head towards his back where his wings hung lamely.

“Oh come on don’t be a party pooper,” you gave an encouraging smile. His eyes met yours only for moment, but looking at you was like looking directly into the sun. So he kept his eyes on your hand while he found himself uncharacteristically tongue tied. He took your extended palm, but didn’t budge when you tried pulling him off the barstool. He sensed your breath hitch as he held you in place. Your eyes traveled from your now interlocked hands to his face. “Hawks…?”

*beep* “We got a code red. I repeat, code red. Over.” *beep*

The noise came from your purse, pulling you both out of whatever trance you were in. He raised an eyebrow. Sure enough, you pulled out a walkie talkie and brought it to your mouth.

“Rescue effort deployed, over.” *beep*

His golden orbs finally met yours, your eyes swimming with sympathy.

“I’ve been summoned. I don’t know what’s going on here, but come find me when you’re done sulking, yeah?”

He released your hand and watched as you disappeared into the dance floor, but not before he saw you ward off an unwanted suitor leering over Mount Lady who was still gripping the sister walkie-talkie.

He settled back into the bar seat and chugged.

“I thought you were fun at parties.” Best Jeanist saddled up beside him, dropping off his empty round. Hawks groaned.

“Not you too.”

“It’s my birthday, you’re obligated to be nice to me. Not that I thought it would be so difficult for you.”

“It’s my first night off in months man, I’m just a little tired.”

“We’re all tired, that’s no excuse.”

Hawks felt guilty, Best Jeanist was right. Embarrassment bubbled in his gut, though maybe that was just the beer.

“Relationships are like a new pair of high quality jeans –“

“Please stop.”

“At first, the fibers are stiff. They take a while to break in, may even feel uncomfortable at first. But after a few wears, the fabric relaxes and molds to the wearer. The perfect denim…”

“Are you done?”

“No. You knew she was going to be here tonight so what gives?”

Hawks ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

You and Hawks had been at it for hours. You let out a low groan.

“Can you grab that box for me? I can’t reach.”

Hawks couldn’t help himself. You looked so cute on your tip toes arms extended. The persona you exuded in court was bigger than life, but outside that you were quite ordinary. He liked that you weren’t so infallible that you were beyond the need for his assistance.

The boxes of evidence filled the office, floor to ceiling. You had gone through most of them, only one pile was left. Technically he didn’t have to be there, but he’d bumped into you in the halls of the HPSC long past most had left the building. You explained your plight that the other junior associate assigned to the case with you had bailed. It was for one of the villains he’d captured anyways, so he volunteered to help.

“Yeah, I got it Birdie.” He walked over to where you were, but you didn’t budge. Stubbornly you continued to wave your arms as though you’d be able to summon the box clearly out of reach through sheer will alone. It was, in a word, adorable. So he perched himself behind you, pressing against your backside to absolve you of your struggle. He was being mindful of space - was the story he told himself, which was a lie. It would also be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy it.

You inhaled sharply and instinctively closed your eyes, his cologne infiltrating your nose. It’s not that you and Hawks hadn’t made physical contact before, it’s just that it was mostly in the form of professional or friendly touches. Like handshakes or pats on the back or nudging arms. There had only been a handful of other times where there was accidental increased contact, and each time felt like an out of body experience. This was no different. You tried not to push your ass into him as he reached above you, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. Meekly, you let your arms drop to your sides as a shiver rolled down your spine.

You only turned around when you heard him drop the box on the ground. You let your back land on the stack of boxes against the wall. You drank in his form, mere inches away from you. Jacket and gloves long discarded, you admired the veins in his forearms and the contours of his muscles that shown through his shirt. You knew he caught you staring, but you didn’t mind.

Hawks stared right back at you, silently enjoying the way the collar of your blouse, now partially unbuttoned and lopsided, showed off your clavicle. Your hair once perfectly coiffed now fell in a loose bun, strays falling around your face. Your half-lidded eyes beckoned him to close the tiny gap between you.

Maybe it was sleep deprivation that he forgot who you were (his coworker) or where he was (inside your office in the building of the HPSC). All sense of rationality went out the window the moment Hawks decided to take a step forward. Your eyes followed as he placed a hand next to your head, then trailed up the length of his arm back to his face, finally focusing on his lush lips that were suddenly very close. You held your breath as you patiently waited for impact that never came. His beeper went off, startling you both and cutting the moment short.

That was last night.

You were a lawyer. You followed rules. You enforced rules. Not that sleeping/dating a coworker was illegal, but it felt like you were doing something wrong. You weren’t each other’s superiors or subordinates, you weren’t in the same department, you checked the Commission’s bylaws and there was nothing else explicitly prohibiting romantic relations between employees. But you were still scared to disrupt the status quo.

You didn’t think much of it at first. You knew Hawks flirted with anything with a pulse. So you didn’t see the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine every now and then. You weren’t sure when you started having actual feelings for him. It might have been a few months ago when you got to your office in the morning after a long night of work, only to find a coffee and a crimson feather on your desk. When had you told him your coffee order? All you knew was that the exchanges that once felt like an inside joke now seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, a reminder that you were nothing special and that this was just how he acted with everyone.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out on the dancefloor. Your feet were starting to hurt. Mirko had fed you two shots and you were now nursing the remaining ice from your second gin and tonic. With clear liquor and cloudy eyes, you felt your confidence draining as the night wore on, no sign of The Winged Hero in sight. Did you go too far? Did you horribly misread last night’s events? Was he avoiding you?

You felt a pair of hands grip your hips, pulling you out of your daydream and realizing you had no idea where everyone else was. Your hand flew to your purse to grab your walkie-talkie.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to code-red me.” Your eyes immediately lit up as you turned around, too much alcohol in your system to play coy.

“You came!” Your hands excitedly drummed his chest. Your grin was infectious. He leaned in to make himself heard over the speakers.

“Of course I did. Just took a while to find you, you’re pretty short.” His hot breath tickled your ear.

“You think I’m pretty?” you drawled, a lazy smile plastered on your face. The initial panic in his eyes softened as he realized your mistake. He didn’t have the heart to correct you, nor were you were wrong.

“That’s not what I – yeah… you’re pretty.” You pressed yourself up into him on tip toes, cupping a hand around his ear.

“Can I tell you a secret?” His heartbeat quickened, his own sobriety lacking along with his social filter. He should have shut it down, but instead he said:

“Always.”

“I – “

“Hey, watch it with those things.” His wings, again having a mind of their own, had inadvertently fluttered a drink out of a nearby patron’s hands - and he wasn’t happy about it. He was about to apologize, but you beat him to the response.

“Clearly it was an accident, why don’t you watch it you bitch-ass – ” On one hand, he thought it was very sexy how you tried to defend him. On the other, you were simply not threatening no matter how hard you tried and the last thing Hawks wanted right now was to ruin what felt like the most important moment of his life with a bar fight.

“I am very sorry sir, it was an accident. Feel free to use my tab the rest of the night,” he said to the man as he picked you up by your midsection and carried you away before you could finish the sentence. Even as you retreated, you continued your death glare towards the stranger who was left very confused.

Hawks placed you down in a corner where his wings and your sharp tongue hopefully wouldn’t cause any further disruptions. He leaned his back against the wall just to be safe.

“So do you usually go around starting bar fights?” he said with a smug smile.

“Me?! He started it and I was defending your honor,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “You’re welcome,” you said defiantly. To your dismay, the hero let out a hearty laugh. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, you were very scary,” he finally got out as his laughter slowed.

“Don’t lie,” you pouted.

“It was really cute.” He was still laughing, but you were starting to sober up.

“I said don’t lie.” Your meek voice was barely audible in the still boisterous bar. His eyes softened at your hardened expression.

“I-I wasn’t.” He was suddenly very aware of your surroundings, which was next to the line starting to form by the bathrooms. Loud chit chatter and crying coming from the ladies’ room mixed with sound of someone audibly vomiting from the men’s room was not exactly how he pictured this going down. He took your hand and started walking again.

“Ugh, where are we going now? Our friends are still there,” you groaned. Friends. Why was that word so easy for you, yet rolled off his tongue like sand paper?

“We can go back inside in a minute, but I want to talk.” He’d led you out the backdoor of the bar. You looked around, clearly confused.

“Dude, what is happening?”

“I couldn’t hear you in there and we were next to the bathrooms.”

“So you dragged me out to an alleyway next to a literal dumpster. Got it.” He looked around just to check if you were correct, which unfortunately, you were.

You couldn’t be serious with each other if you tried. Snorts and stifled giggles filled the alley, overpowering the dull bass from inside.

“I guess I really know how to set the mood, huh.” He scratched the back of his head, admiring the scenery.

“I didn’t know there was a mood to be set.” Your tone was inquisitive, free of judgement. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

Hawks took a deep breath, trying to gather his growing nerves. But he was a coward who’d rather fly into a burning building than share his feelings so he deflected.

“You said you were going to tell me a secret in there. What was it?”

Your felt your cheeks immediately burn. The liquid courage you had before was wearing off so you volleyed back.

“You have to tell me a secret first,” you said defensively. Hawks rolled his eyes.

“I’ve already told you two secrets tonight, you just weren’t paying attention.”

“Like wha- oh.” You brought a hand to your mouth to cover the audible gasp that left your lips. You wondered if Hawks was embarrassed. If he was, he hid it well under the guise of a knowing smirk. It was at that moment you noticed how his gilded eyes shone spectacularly under the dim glow of the nearby streetlamp. Perhaps the embarrassment, if any, was also pacified by how clearly flustered you were by the culmination of all that had transpired in the last 24 hours. You crossed your arms. “Well… I still need one more secret from you.”

“Wow, three for the price of one? Now you’re just overselling it.” He stopped teasing when he saw you pouting again. Not a playful pout, but the kind that made it look like you were about to break. He never thought of you as fragile before. He grabbed your hand, averting his gaze.

“You have to promise to keep it a secret, ok?” You nodded, squeezing his hand for reassurance.

“I promise.” He took a deep breath, finally gathering the courage to look you in the eyes again.

“Keigo.”

“What?”

“Keigo,” he said again. “Keigo Takami. That’s my real name.” Your eyes widened in horror realizing you’d made him compromise his own security. You frantically began scanning your surroundings for any unintentional witnesses. He grabbed your shoulders to steady you.

“Oh my god, Hawks, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to –“

“Shhhh it’s ok there’s no one else around. You didn’t force me, I want you to know. Please, call me Keigo.” He watched the rise and fall of your chest, trying to monitor your labored breathing. Again, this was not going as planned. Not that he really had a plan to begin with. But even if he did, causing you to go into cardiac arrest surely was not on the list. Your breath finally started to slow.

“Keigo,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. You liked the way his name felt on your tongue, so you said it again. “Keigo.”

He tried to suppress a smile, watching how the corners of your lips tugged upwards. His hand, seemingly acting on its own, stroked your hair as he continued to sooth you.

“See, that wasn’t so bad,” which was another way to say he’d never heard a more beautiful sound in his life than his real name falling from your lips.

He tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to cause you any more distress than he already had over the course of the night.

“Not to brag, but this better be one hell of a secret ‘cause–“

He didn’t get to finish the sentence. You grabbed him by the collar to bring his lips to yours in a messy, fervent kiss that took his breath away but was over in the blink of an eye before he could act or process.

You pushed him away slightly as you caught your breath, looking just as surprised as he was about the whole ordeal.

“I-I’m sorry I should’ve asked –“

He crashed into you as he held both sides of your face, afraid you may float away if that beautiful mind of yours started to overthink as it often did. The force knocked you into the building behind you, but you didn’t mind. Wandering hands traveled over each other’s bodies, both eager to explore foreign skin. Your tongues danced in unison as you body tingled under his erratic touch, grabbing your arms, back, hips, waist, hair, whatever he could hold onto unable to stay in one place for long.

You couldn’t stop your own hands from feeling the muscles you’d watched from afar for so long, enjoying the ripple of his abs, the sturdiness of his chest, finally landing around his neck. You pulled him impossibly closer, spiteful of the little space that still separated you. His wings protectively caged around you, shielding any prying eyes from your compromising position.

In an extraordinary display of restraint he kept a hand on your ribcage, his fingers delicately ghosting the band of your bra over your clothes, his intent clear but never crossing boundaries. You smiled into the kiss deciding to take advantage of the new privacy as you placed your hand over his to guide it to its true destination. He let out a groan that reverberated against your lips as he squeezed the soft flesh under him, still in disbelief that he should be so lucky to experience all that had only existed in his imagination. He swallowed the soft moan you let out when he grazed his thumb over your sensitive nipple that peaked through the fabric of your top. You rolled your hips forward desperate for friction, and he eagerly returned the favor. You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your pelvis, which you realized was the first time you’d come up for air since you locked lips.

His mouth traveled down your neck until he found a sweet spot that made you squirm. Your hand also made its way south, but your path was halted by his calloused hand when you reached the waistband of his pants. Hawks might fuck you in an alleyway outside a bar, but Keigo wanted to build you the softest nest to lay you on because you deserved nothing less.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of you neck as his other hand drew little circles on the small of your back.

“Technically… that wasn’t a secret,” he whispered into your skin. Your chests rattled against one another as laughter escaped your lungs.

“You’re an ass,” you said through fits of giggles. He nipped a little more at your neck, encouraging you on. “If you’re going to make me say it… I wanted to kiss you. Tonight. And last night. And the day before that. And the week before that. And –“

He kissed you once more to cut you off, but this time it was sweet and soft. It made you feel calm and centered. So when he pulled away, you decided to share more.

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“If it’s anything like the first one, absolutely.” He brought your captured wrist to his mouth, leaving a trail of small kisses over your hand. Your heartbeat that finally started to slow picked right back up.

“I’ve never flown before.” You not-so-subtly glanced at his wings before looking back at him, eyebrow raised. He gave you a wicked grin.

“Yeah I can give you a ride little bird. Not to be presumptuous, but uh… your place or mine?” You pretended to think hard about the proposition.

“Hmm. I’d say appropriately-sumptuous, and… dealer’s choice.” Hawks had found his way to your neck again which made thinking straight quite difficult, but you persisted nonetheless. “Though… maybe we go back inside and table this for another hour. I feel bad leaving without saying goodbye.”

Hawks moved up the column of you neck until his breath was in your ear.

“I’m gonna go on a limb and say, I think it would make the birthday boy very happy if we didn’t.” Despite the blush that crept to your cheeks knowing you may be the subject of workplace gossip tomorrow, your core clenched in anticipation at his words. The hero could tell from your dazed expression that it was time to go. That was, at least, until the walkie-talkie in your purse went off again.

*beep* “Code blue, y/n where are you? Over.” *beep*

You could see his sails deflate when you pulled out the device, assuming once again that his plans were foiled. Not one to put up a fight, he moved towards the door to reunite with everyone. But you didn’t budge, squeezing his hand to hold him in place. He watched closely as your other hand brought the walkie-talkie to your mouth. The playful twinkle in your eyes told him all he needed to know.

“The eagle has landed in the nest. Over.” *beep*

164 notes · View notes

relax-and-read-on · 9 months

Text

I have not made made a generic hc post about the primarch in a LONG time. I miss it, and it's good for the warhammer tumblr ecosystem. So, without further waiting....

Primarch, and the absolutely shitty gifts they give each others for a White Elephants gift exchange

Roboute: A classic coffee mug (primarch sized!) Filled with sweets and a indestructible fancy fountain pen. The mug say "World Most Okay Dad" on it, and he joke that it apply to them all.

Lion: a stuffed bird. The number of eyes on it is vaguely unnerving. It's unclear wich way is the head suppose to go, and all agree that it's probably an awful mutant bird. Lion is too proud to admit that it's just a really shotty taxidermy he made himself.

Alpharius Omegon: They give a series of mysterious CD in blank case, wich is a very rare and hard to read format on most ship! It's the entire series of MLP:FiM, famous lost media in the 30th millenium.

Rogal: A thick, sturdy, and perfectly elegant multi bit screwdriver, with extra standard bits put in the handle. Give a proud presentation on it, explaining it's superior design and all it's ergonomic features. It's 45 min long.

Perturabo: it's a coupon that say "one (1) construction from me and my legion, free of complaining. Valid until the 31th millenium." It's the most popular gift of the night.

Corvus: slipper and kigurumi, all crow themed. They are *adorable*. Sadly, the size is a bit tight and vaguely indecent on the more muscular primarch.

Lorgar: a traditional colchian tea set, with hand dried craft teas! The set is beautiful, and the teas prove to be only mildly hallucinogenic.

Konrad: A very, VERY pretty embroidered set of throw pillow! They have delicate pattern of flower and nature imagery... And are made with human hair. Konrad is very proud of himself, and even more of the absolute bloody screaming his gift create when he explain it.

Sanguinius: put out by Konrad's gift, but he also made a pillow, but this one filled with his own feathers. Has surprising property against nightmare.

Vulkan: He was actually sweet, and brought homemade hot sauce, his mother's recipe! The problem is that the stuff is so strong, it's considered a dangerous chemical in most of the galaxy. Can be used as jet fuel.

Horus: Edible sexy underwear. Insist that whoever gets it has to wear it, and jokingly say that, if they are too shy, he can do a demonstration himself.

Mortarion: a succulent growing kit. Even his most dumbasses of brother should be able to keep a succulent alive, right? Doesn't mention that it's an highly invasive species that will colonise the entire ship of his poor victime.

Jaghatai: a foal. Yes, he carry a whole ass live animal to the gift exchange, and keep insisting that it's an appropriate gift. The horse is chewing on Magnus' hair.

Leman: Mad that he didn't think of bringing a puppy, but he has the most amazing looking collection of smoked salmon, caviar and preserved fish to offer.

Magnus: his patience is wearing thin, but he still offer a perfectly beautiful robe, that act as an honest to good mood ring and change color depending on the person's aura.

Fulgrim: A painting of himself! Wich is actually a joke, it's just a thin and hand painted decorative paper covering the true gift: a painting of all their family, together. Get called a try hard.

Ferrus: a collection of very pretty crystals and fossils! Wich he arranged in a chocolate box, and explain that those are his favorite flavors.

Angron: A punching bag that even *he* find durable. He made sure of it, by thoroughly testing it before giving it out, wich explain it's used appearance.

I know exactly who gets what..... Yall want to know in a part 2 ;)?

494 notes · View notes

votivecandleholder · 1 year

Text

Dreamy and Creative Barbie Birthday Decorations

New Post has been published on https://happybirthdaydecor.com/birthday/dreamy-and-creative-barbie-birthday-decorations

Dreamy and Creative Barbie Birthday Decorations

A Barbie-themed birthday party is every little girl’s dream. With its iconic pink color scheme, stylish fashion elements, and glamorous aura, a Barbie-themed birthday party is a magical way to celebrate a child’s special day. It’s a classic that never gets old and always brings out the little princess in every girl.

However, to make it more special, you’ve got to put some dreams and creativity in it, and that starts with the decorations. With that said, let us explore some dreamy and creative Barbie birthday decorations that will make your little girl’s birthday party a dream come true.

Barbie Birthday Supplies

Start off right with some Barbie party essentials. You can buy party supplies like Barbie plates, cups, napkins, and tablecloths.

Barbie Birthday Decorations

Not only are these practical party items, but they’re also a great way to set the tone for your Barbie party. You can even get Barbie balloons and banners to decorate the room, or opt for pink and pastel decorations to match the iconic doll’s signature look.

Barbie DIY Decorations

Save some money by making your own DIY Barbie decorations. You can print out Barbie coloring sheets and cut them into paper dolls, or transform Barbie boxes into small gift boxes or goodie bags. You can also make your own Barbie centerpieces by filling a vase with pink and white flowers or feathers and topping it off with a Barbie doll.

Barbie Birthday Banners and Balloons

Nothing screams birthday party quite like streamers, balloons, and banners! Therefore, for a Barbie-themed party, you want to stick to the pink and white color palette. You can hang pink, white, and Barbie-themed banners, and fill the room with matching balloons. For more creativity, string Barbie dolls to create a unique garland, or balloons with Barbie’s favorite catchphrases.

Barbie Table Settings

You want the table settings to be as dreamy and magical as possible. For starters, you can use pink and white tablecloths and table runners. Then, you can create a magical Barbie world by placing Barbie dolls and accessories on the table scattered with confetti. Be sure to put Barbie-theme plates, cups, and napkins that complement the decorations.

Barbie Cups

DIY Barbie Life-Sized Cutouts

Barbie makes everything better, even if it is a cut-out! One creative way to bring Barbie to life is by creating life-size Barbie cutouts. You can make cardboard cutouts of Barbie and hand-paint them with her fashionable outfits. It is a unique and inexpensive way to add some life and energy to the party.

Sprinkle Sparkle and Shine

Barbie is known for her glamorous fashion sense, so make sure to incorporate this into your decorations. Add fun and flashy decor items like pink and silver balloons, glittery streamers, plastic diamond rings, and more. Make sure that your decorations have some serious sparkle and shine to them, just like Barbie herself.

Play Dress-Up

Encourage your guests to join in on the fun by providing dress-up items like tiaras, feather boas, and Barbie sunglasses. Have a section of the party dedicated to dress-up so that each party guest can pick out their own outfit. This will create a fun and playful atmosphere that matches the Barbie theme perfectly.

Barbie-Inspired Photobooth

Every memorable party needs a photo booth, and Barbie-themed parties are no exception! You can create a Barbie Dream House photo booth using a cardboard box and various Barbie dolls and accessories. Guests can take fun and memorable pictures with Barbie as a souvenir to take home. Or create photo-worthy memories with a cute Barbie-inspired photo booth. You can make your own backdrop with pink and white streamers, balloons, or even tulle fabric. You can also use Barbie cutouts as props and different Barbie accessories. Then, use a Polaroid, a tablet or smartphone, and create a hashtag for social media so that you and your guests can reminisce about the fun you had.

Fun Games and Activities

Barbie isn’t all about looks; she’s also an adventurous athlete, scientist, and fashion icon. Combine these elements by having Barbie-themed games and activities with your guests. You can have a Barbie fashion show, a Barbie trivia or matching game, or even a Barbie piñata. Remember; make sure your games and activities are age-appropriate, so everyone can enjoy them.

Barbie Cake and Cupcake Toppers

There’s no party without cake! You can top your cake with Barbie figures or use Barbie doll parts as toppers. You can also have Barbie cupcake toppers for guests who want a smaller portion of sweetness.

Barbie Birthday Party Ideas

These fun and creative ideas will make your desserts so memorable that it will be difficult to cut or eat them.

Tasty Barbie-Themed Treats

It’s time to transform Barbie’s oblong legs and arms into delectable treats! You can bake Barbie-shaped cookies, cake pops, and cupcakes and decorate them with pink frosting, sprinkles, and candy pearls. Besides the desserts, you can serve pink-colored drinks with Barbie themed straws.

Barbie Inspired Favors

Consider adding some Barbie-themed party favors for your guests at the next party. You have plenty of options, such as filling favor bags and boxes with toys, candies, Barbie accessories, personalized photos and other age-appropriate items. These party souvenirs are sure to be a hit with the kids and make your daughter feel like a true party queen.

Barbie Birthday Party Ideas

Barbie Cake

Barbie Fairy Cake

Chic Barbie Birthday Party

Rainbow Barbie Cake

Barbie Birthday Themes

Barbie Happy Birthday Theme

Barbie Boxes

Finally

That’s it! With these dreamy and creative Barbie birthday decorations, you can give your little girl the most memorable birthday party ever. From the enchanting decorations to the tasty Barbie-shaped delights, the party will undoubtedly be magical and unforgettable. Remember, when it comes to a Barbie-themed party, it’s all about the fashion, pink, and pretty!

0 notes

breadoffoxy · 3 years

Text

Treasure

Summary: Your looking through your inventory, thinking of what your most treasured item could be, but all you can think about is your seven travel companions.

Written for the BTS Ghosite Marathon. Prompt: Themes: Types of Love

Drabble: 27/30

Pairing: n. Reader x OT7

Genre: fluff, humor, friendship

Warnings: homesickness, a kiss on the cheek, some clueless iditos

Word Count: 1,384

A/N: Thank you @yoongsgguktae for helping me brainstorm some ideas for this and some other prompts. This prompt is also inspired by Octopath traveler.

You were sorting the inventory, some of the odd trinkets and doodads ended up in your bag for quick storage, and you couldn’t get rid of the captain’s words out of your mind.

What is your most precious treasure?

There was so much treasure and you were eagerly looking forward to haggling it away at the market tomorrow, but none of it was precious, not to you anyways. Then you look at your small pile of personal items you accumulated over the tip. You smile as you take notice of some particular ones gifted to you by your travel companions.

Laid out carefully on the blanket you spread out over the sand is your journal and feathered pen. Namjoon gifted you the pen, helping you enchant it to never run out of ink. He saw you writing in your journal as you do every evening, shaking an ink well furiously, wishing for just one more drop of ink.

Namjoon wished you would use it in the lessons he forced upon you though, hoping to further your non-existent academic career. You know that is his way of caring though so you humor him. His knowledge did come handy selling some things though and he did have an excellent eye for detail, as long as it wasn’t anything involving romantic intentions.

Next you see a fragile piece of paper with a pressed flower held down by some medicine. While helping Jin look for supplies for his apothecary kit, you found this beautiful flower, one like you never saw the likes of before, growing high up on a cliff. Jin offered to get it to you, saying it was no problem, and he did, but only after a him hanging off the rocky wall and the both of you screaming. He got it though and didn’t die for it so you both counted it as a win. Knowing you didn’t want to see it wilt, Jin offered to press it for you, saying his friend back home showed him how.

The medicine was left over from a cold you got out in the frost lands. It was a mess of a storm, too many ice wolves trying to fight you for your food, and you got separated from the group. Jungkook was able to track you down somehow through it all, and Jin helped you back to health. His soup warmed your heart but his bitter medicine still makes you grimace as you recall the taste.

Thinking of Jungkook, your hand reaches up to touch the feather sticking out of your cap. The young hunter gifted it to you after your previous one got ruined. You were stricken, having gotten it from your family before leaving home. Jungkook had asked you why you were so sad while you were looking down forlornly at your hat and so you told him. He hummed and stalked off with his direwolf, not returning until later that night.

When Jungkook returned, he came back with a beautiful feather and offered it to you. He confessed he couldn’t find a feather from the same species in this area but thought you might like this one, but would understand it you didn’t want it. You take the feather and gave him a kiss on his cheek in thanks, turning his sad pout into one gaping in surprise. Why were your travel companions so clueless when it came to romance?

You can’t help but snort as you think of the clueless men. The most innocent comes to mind and you lean over, searching for the perfect little seashell he gave you. You trace the edges of the shell, and smile as the sense of home hits you. While you love traveling, there are times you do miss your little ocean town that you wished to leave so eagerly.

Taehyung picked up on your feelings easily. When a night came you were close to the coast again, he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the shore. There, you soaked your feet in the ocean and breathed in the salty air while Taehyung searched the beach. He ran over to you excitedly with a boyish grin, handing you the beautiful seashell in front of you now.

Stiffly, you rotate your shoulders, the workout Hoseok put you through earlier starting the burn. The ex-knight saw it as his duty to help train you as his traveling companion, wanting to make sure you can protect yourself. You can fight just fine, your skill with a spear and bow quite impressive, but it never hurts to be more prepared. Just, ouch, he’s trying to over prepare you, that’s for sure.

Hoseok doesn’t talk about his past much, but when you spar you can egg a little out of him. You know he values honor and protecting the innocent like any other knight, but Hoseok fully enacts on those beliefs, and you look up to him for it. As cheesy as it sounds, when you pick up your weapon, you think what would Hoseok do? It has saved you more than once or twice too.

You pick up the last gift from the blanket and unfold a beautiful fan with a snap of your wrist. When you said Hoseok didn’t talk about his past much, that’s an understatement compared to Jimin. The dancer’s sharp glare cuts as much as his deadly knives do so you quickly learned not to ask. It makes you happy though that he’s soften up around the edges some, at least to your group anyways. Plus, it’s hard to stay away from the man that can seduce nearly anyone with his grace. You’re glad he’s on your side.

The fan is decorated with beautiful petals blowing in a stylistic wind. You could sell this for a lot of money, but there’s no way you would do that. Jimin got it for you when you helped him sneak into the mansion to help fulfill part of his revenge plot. He could have gotten you any fan, but he picked one with the same petals as the flower Jin pressed for you. It’s a sign of Jimin opening up to you, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You could sell that for a high sum, you know.”

“I know,” you snap, closing the fan. Frowning, you turn toward the voice behind you to only see no one there. “Stop showing off.”

When you turn around again, you see Yoongi crouching down over your personal belongings. A coin shines as it flips through his fingers and you pat down your pocket only to find it empty.

“Yoongi, give it back.”

“Is it stealing if I gave it to you in the first place?” Yoongi looks up with a smug grin. It only grows at your frustrated huff.

“Yes, it’s mine now.” You stretch out your hand. “Please.”

“If you insist.” He flicks the coin up in the air and you watch as it flips up into an arch and into your hand. Showoff.

Your thumb traces the foreign mark on the coin before you slide it back into your pocket. Yoongi found the coin from one of his marks’ coin bags. It was useless to him as he didn’t know anyone who took that foreign currency, so you took one of the coins before he could toss them all out, fascinated by its design and wondering how it got to this little corner of world. Yoongi snorted, calling you a kid and saying you could have it so badly if you wanted. You never took any of Yoongi’s stolen goods, except for this little coin.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?”

For not wanting friends, he sure looked out for you a lot. Always offering help if you wanted it and stepping back when you wanted to do something on your own. He respected your boundaries and talents and you did the same despite not agreeing with each other all the time.

“Just thinking about my most precious treasure.” All these items you hold close to you, but even more so are the memories that surround them and your friends. The eclectic group of people you travel with and this journey you are on is what you love the most in the world.

38 notes · View notes

heavensenthearty · 3 years

Text

February prompts by @creativepromptsforwriting.

1 - Love letter 💌:

The letter arrived in the mail; hadn’t it been for that corner of the envelope peeking through a slit of her folder-sized mailbox, she would have completely forgotten the thing existed. Who sent letters nowadays? She left the bags on the floor and went to pick it. Given the red wrapper and the heart sticker, it was obviously a Valentine’s Day letter — which made it all the weirder because it wasn’t Valentine’s Day yet.

That morning’s shopping spree was part of her yearly ritual actually, celebrate all February but Valentine's. She didn't need anyone treating her anything.

She didn't need an excuse to dress up to a fancy dinner.

If she wanted to do any of that, she would, by herself.

And red wasn't her color either, whoever sent the letter should have known.

It probably was some prank from someone in the building who knew her aversion — (it wasn’t a vendetta) — against the festivity. Whatever. She didn’t have time for it. Taking her bags again, she kept the letter in her hand, unwilling to allow the bad energy of such a childish joke near her new Neiman Marcus purse. She then left it on the table once she got to her apartment, it didn’t have a remitter, so there wasn’t anyone to respond anyway. That gave her a reason to leave it there for the rest of the day... Week... Two weeks.

It had become one of those left-aside papers waiting to be brushed away, along a few sticky notes and receipts. Finally, the dreaded day came, and it was time to do all her least favorite things. Including cleaning and confronting things she meant to avoid.

She opened the envelope by removing the heart-sticker. Oddly enough, the letter was less holiday-ish on the inside, and written with a purple pen. Her favorite color.

Jersey,

A groan. The nickname told her exactly who sent the letter. How did he find out where she lived though?

Don’t panic, your parents told me your address, I’m still their neighbor.

I know you don’t celebrate Valentine’s, and some of that might have to do with me, but it isn’t fair that you are alone the day supposed to be about hearts and chocolate and love. So, strategically, I made this letter themed on your LEAST favorite day, and sent it earlier to make SURE you opened it the day you do all the things you don't like to do. Boom! Made you look!

I’m sure you look beautiful right now <— (Please don’t kill me, I had to add a romantic line for the sake of love-letterism.) Happy Valentine’s Day!

P.S.: I bet you thought I had forgotten your favorite color.

Simple like that.

She took her car keys, didn’t bother to change from her leggings and pink t-shirt — very fitting for the occasion — and drove to her parents’ house.

Her parents had always been a very lovey-dovey couple, they made today a Halloween with happy-endings-only and gave decorated packs of chocolates to the visits. She saw them lined up in the table when her mother opened the door.

“Sweetheart!”

“Mom!” Her hug didn’t lack enthusiasm, but the strong squeeze was more due to anticipation. “I was driving by and decided to say hi. Do you mind if I pay a little visit next door and the come back?”

Her mother’s eyes went in the direction she was pointing. It was a little tease, they both knew where she meant, and her mom was a little too excited about it, “Of course, honey!”

She went, knocked the door twice.

He opened.

And the ‘the themed letter’ shoved into his chest. Hard. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, jackass!”

The city should rename that street to ‘Where Nobody Knows How To Hide Their Smirks’ — even when they are keeping papers from falling down. “I made you look and come by. Is this my gift?”

Damn his dimples! (And damn his rock-hard chest! Her palm stung and he looked like only a feather had brushed him.) “It isn’t.”

The two stood silently in the doorway. Several minutes passed before any of them spoke again; the sun was already coming down, the sky had a shade of pink that matched her shirt.

“In case the letter wasn’t enough, I was going to send you hot-cocoa mix and heart marshmallows,” he said. “Wanna come look for them inside? I can prepare it myself and save you the trouble.”

He moved aside to let her come in. She did, with firm steps and her head high. Very dignifying.

Spanish Translation:

La carta apareció en el correo; de no haber sido por la esquina del sobre saliendo por una rendija del buzón, ella se habría olvidado de que esa cosa existía. ¿Quién envía cartas estos días? Dejó sus bolsas en el piso y fue a recogerla. Por el papel rojo y la pegatina en forma de corazón, obviamente era una carta de San Valentín — que hacía todo aún más raro porque ni siquiera era San Valentín.

Las compras de esa mañana eran parte de su ritual de cada año, de hecho: celebrar durante todo febrero excepto San Valentín. Ella no necesitaba que nadie le comprase cosas.

No necesitaba una excusa para vestirse elegante y salir a una cena.

Si quería hacer esas cosas, las haría, sola.

Y el rojo ni siquiera era su color, quienquiera que enviase la carta debería haberlo sabido.

Probablemente era una broma de alguien en el edificio que sabía de su aversión — (no era una venganza) — contra San Valentín. Lo que sea. No tenía tiempo para eso. Tomó sus bolsas de nuevo y mantuvo la carta en su mano, no estaba dispuesta a dejar que la mala energía de una broma tan infantil tocase su nuevo bolso Neiman Marcus. Luego la dejó en la mesa una vez que llegó a su departamento, no tenía remitente, así que de todas maneras no había nadie a quien responder. Eso le daba una razón para dejarla ahí por el resto del día... Semana... Dos semanas.

Se convirtió en uno de esos papeles dejados de lado esperando que los tirasen, junto a algunas notas adhesivas y recibos. Finalmente, el temido día llegó, y era el momento de hacer todas sus cosas menos favoritas. Incluidos limpiar y confrontar lo que prefería evitar.

Abrió el sobre removiendo la pegatina de corazón. Fue extraño, la carta era menos festiva en el interior y estaba escrita con un bolígrafo morado. Su color favorito.

Jersey,

Un gruñido. El apodo le decía exactamente quién envió la carta. ¿Pero cómo sabía dónde ella vivía?

No te asustes, tus padres me dijeron tu dirección, todavía soy su vecino.

Sé que no celebras el día de San Valentín, y eso tal vez sea por mi culpa, pero no es justo que estés sola el día que se supone es sobre corazones y chocolates y amor. Así que, estratégicamente, hice esta carta temática de tu día MENOS favorito, y la envié antes para ASEGURARME de que la abrieses el día en el que haces todo lo que no te gusta hacer. ¡Boom! ¡Te hice mirar!

Estoy seguro de que te ves hermosa ahora <— (Por favor no me mates, necesitaba una línea romántica para que fuese una carta de amor.) ¡Feliz día de San Valentín!

P.D.: Apuesto que pensaste que había olvidado tu color favorito.

Sencillo como eso.

Ella tomó las llaves de su auto, no se molestó en cambiarse a otra cosa que no fuesen sus leggings y una camiseta rosa — muy apropiada para la ocasión — y condujo hasta la casa de sus padres.

Siempre habían sido una pareja melosa. Hacían del día un Halloween con finales felices y daban paquetes adornados llenos de chocolate a las visitas. Ella los vio alineados en la mesa cuando su madre abrió la puerta.

“¡Cariño!”

“¡Mamá!” A su abrazo no le faltaba entusiasmo, pero el fuerte apretón era más por la anticipación. “Pasaba por aquí y quise saludar. ¿Te importa si le hago una pequeña visita a alguien en la casa de al lado y luego regreso?”

Los ojos de su madre fueron en dirección hacia donde ella apuntaba. Era un pequeño chiste, ambas sabían adónde se refería, y su madre estaba un poco demasiado emocionada por ello, “¡Claro, cariño!”

Ella fue, tocó la puerta dos veces.

Él la abrió.

Y ‘la carta temática’ lo golpeó en el pecho. Fuerte. “¡Feliz día de San Valentín a ti también, idiota!”

La ciudad debería renombrar esa calle como ‘El Lugar Donde Nadie Sabe Ocultar sus Sonrisas’ — ni siquiera cuando evitan que caigan papeles al suelo. “Te hice mirar y venir hasta aquí. ¿Ese es mi regalo?”

¡Demonios, sus hoyuelos! (¡Y demonios, su pecho sólido! A ella le dolía la mano y él se veía como si lo hubiese tocado una pluma.) “No.”

Los dos se quedaron parados en silencio en el umbral. Varios minutos pasaron antes de que alguno volviese a hablar; el sol ya estaba cayendo, el cielo tenía un tono de rosa que combinaba con la camiseta que ella traía puesta.

“En caso de que la carta no fuera suficiente, iba a enviarte mezcla de chocolate caliente y malvaviscos,” él indicó. “¿Quieres venir a buscarlos? Yo puedo prepararlo por ti y ahorrarte los problemas.”

Se hizo a un lado para dejarla pasar. Ella lo hizo, con paso firme y la cabeza alta. Muy dignificante.

#angel writes 🖋️#february prompts #writing #creative writing

2 notes · View notes

vanaera · 4 years

Text

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 | 𝟎𝟐 | 𝐣𝐣𝐤

Synopsis: A future technology allows cops to jump in the past and future to investigate crimes that have happened and prepare for those that are about to happen. A simple hit-and-run turns into something more when Captain Jeon Jungkook finds himself as the victim of a culprit who cannot be identified by the system. Especially when the culprit seems to be the same person behind the new case that’s threatening the order in the justice organization. All goes haywire when Jungkook gets involved with Y/N L/N, the clairvoyant sketch artist who may be his only help to solve the case.

Characters: Jungkook x Female Reader

Genre/AU: Sci-fi, romance, angst, mystery, action (cop!JK x artist!you), based on the movie Minority Report

Wordcount: 8.2k

Warnings: Dark themes and implied smut (in future chapters); heavy descriptions of a hit-and-run; mentions of blood from injuries (PG-16 Rating)

prev | next | series masterlist

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭

The skies were gray and the streets were damp and yet the air remains humid. The scorching heat on the pavement permeates the soles of his leather combat boots. It’s the familiar stench of Down Hill. Jungkook could already smell it when he’s just reaching the boundary between it and Middle Town.

Jungkook looks down at the scrap of paper that’s been in his pocket since the day started. Namjoon had to write the address of this Y/N L/N, lest DOJ traces his electronic trail and take him in for unnecessary questioning. Jungkook himself had to make up some petty excuse of a “hurting arm” to file a day-off. He just hopes all of this spent effort will worth him something.

Jungkook nears the 7-Eleven sitting in the fork of the streets. Namjoon wrote Y/N’s studio is cramped among the apartments around this area. He said she never really penned down a home to accommodate covert meet-ups like this. All she has is her studio.

In “Mini Palais, 23-B,” Jungkook mutters again, huffing in front of a door with cracking cadet blue paint. He finds the unit after climbing up a series of stairs at the end of the alleyway jammed between the decaying 7-Eleven and a battered motor shop. Jungkook raises his hand to knock when the door bursts open.

In front of him is a girl. Namjoon already said so and although Jungkook thinks it’s accurate enough for the girl who’s looking up at him through chopped raven bangs, it also wasn’t really enough to describe her. Because the girl in front of him was an aberrant mix of a girl and a woman. Jungkook thinks she’s around her early thirties if he were to consider Namjoon’s history of working with her for about ten years in FJO. There are faint lines around her eyes to support that. However, her relatively small height, plump cheeks, and the natural rosy hue of her lips beg to decrease ten years off that supposed age. With her youthful face, messy half-bun, and the white, floral off-shoulder dress flowing past her knees, no one will argue with Jungkook if he were to say she’s just 22.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, um,” Jungkook flashes his badge, “I’m Jungkook Jeon, a captain in the Federal Justice Organization. Precrime, Murder sector. I’m here to um, avail your…services for a case.”

The girl cocks her head to the side and gives him a once over. “I’m sorry, I don’t do services for the FJO anymore.” She moves to close the door but Jungkook was quick to block a foot between it and the wall.

“I’m a contact of Namjoon’s!” Jungkook exclaims, “He’s Lieutenant Seokjin Kim’s close subordinate.” This is a card he didn’t want to use but it looks like he has no other choice left. Jungkook clears his throat. “Actually, I’m a very close contact of Namjoon. We’re best friends. I even live with him. He’s the one who told me to, um, consult you for the case I’m handling.”

The girl opens the door an inch. Jungkook hands a folded paper to her. She spreads it open and scans through the letter. Jungkook doesn’t know what it actually says. Namjoon just thrust it into his hands on his way out and told him not to open it. It must be an effective personal request because by the time the girl reaches the end, she’s pushing her door wide open, tilting her head to the side, beckoning him to come inside. However, her face remains grim.

“I’m Y/N L/N. This is my studio. I know you already know I prefer to transact business here even for ones intended to be covert. So first off, I want to say I’m sorry you have to travel to such a place like this.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “Oh no, it’s definitely alright—”

“I kinda think it’s not when you grew up in a comfortable life. You must be quite shaken up.”

Jungkook freezes. Y/N looks at him, “Oh, I didn’t look into you or something. It’s just a hypothetical guess, seeing your,” she motions to his silver watch. “That’s expensive. No one from here will be able to afford it anytime soon.”

Jungkook’s shoulders turn lax. Y/N points to a chair next to a table in the corner. “Just wait there. I’m about to finish this piece in just a sec. Then I’m all yours.”

Jungkook nods and makes himself comfortable on the seat. Unlike its appearance on the outside, Y/N’s unit is not much of a concrete wreck. It still looks a bit rough. The ceiling has cracks all over it. A small white bulb precariously hangs on its center. It looks too weak to illuminate the whole room when the night comes. Jungkook thinks it’s a good thing that the unit has huge gaping rectangular windows to let in the natural light. The floor is cemented in gray but the work on it is unimpressive as there are numerous uneven layers, rough patches, and dents that could only be ascribed to poor mason work. The white wallpaper is torn around, some even wet at the edges—probably due to a leak during rains.

However, the flowers painted on them is vibrant enough to uplift the dreary unit. Paintings are littered around. Many are big, a few are small. Some were seated on easels, several are just laying around on the floor. Newspapers are strewn across the majority of the floor. Buckets and tin cans of paints line up the corners like a prayer circle.

All the colors present in the room can only be attributed to the paint that’s strewn across the newspapers, the paintings, and the 6’ tall canvas of an owl in flight Y/N is currently working on. The girl is standing on a small foldable ladder, painting the feathers of the bird at the top of the canvas. When the wind blows her hair to the side, Jungkook finds a mirage of colors on the scarlet spider lilies inked on her spine.

After about two minutes, Y/N steps down and dumps her brush into a rusted bucket filled with water. She turns to the man on the chair and makes her way to the stool opposite his. She fixes down her dress and finally looks at Jungkook. “So, what case do you have for me?”

“This,” Jungkook slides a couple of pictures toward her. They are the screen captures from the CCTV records that caught the black Jaguar. “There’s an unknown driver who’s doing an illegal time jump patterned to Precrime’s traveling agents. We tried to run in the license plate but it just turned to be ‘invalid.’ All we know is that the suspect is male, slim, and tall. He’s interested in the Winston Assassination, and has probably inside ties in FJO since he easily entered the Special Operations Building just ten days ago.”

“None of the traveling agents has seen this man before? Precrime or Forecrime?”

Jungkook shakes his head.

Y/N licks a finger and flips to the next picture, “What about the car?”

“None of the agents has seen a suspicious sedan sports Jaguar before. It’s the first time we have someone presumably well-to-do threatening the justice system.”

Y/N nods. Jungkook inserts his hand into his pocket and retrieves a black USB. He hands it to the girl. “Here’s more of the screenshots from the CCTVs, taken in each second. I can’t give you the CCTVs because of the protocol. I can only give you these. Just imagine they’re moving,” Jungkook purses his lips as he looks at the girl. “I want you to identify this man for me.”

Y/N tucks the USB into her dress’ pocket. She slides the pictures back to Jungkook. “This seems to be a heavy identification check then. Not that I couldn’t handle, of course. However, Namjoon must have told you that my rates are quite high—”

“Money is not a problem.”

Y/N cocks a brow, “So you did grow up a comfortable life.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw.

Y/N chuckles, “Okay, I’m not gonna dwell on it more. It’s settled then. Send your weekly payment to this account,” Y/N tears a piece from the rolls of paper by her side, scribbles on it, and hands it to him. “Every Friday, 10 AM sharp.” Jungkook looks at the paper before tucking it in the breast pocket of his leather jacket.

Y/N crosses her arms, “We can start next week after you give me the downpayment.”

Jungkook zips open a duffel bag and places a stack of bills on the table.

“Eager, aren’t we?” Y/N smiles, “I like that.” She flips through the bills before deciding they’re legitimate and dumping it into a box by her feet.

Y/N turns to him. “Now, where are we? Oh—you must already know, but what I really do here is foreseeing the future for whatever cause you have. It’s not just trivial fortune-telling but a purposive one. I can accurately give you whatever you want to know.”

Jungkook nods. Y/N’s leans forward on the table. “I’ll be honest with you. I don’t really have terms and conditions with my clients. Or any contract to ensure them their protection, as what I do tend to…increase risks. Emotional security and mental stability on your part. Those two and physical toll on mine. It will be absurd to provide any contract as what I am doing is anything but guaranteeing protection. I can’t also be fully transparent about the mechanisms behind the things I will do for you. Otherwise, my gift won’t work. What I can only assure is I’ll never proceed on any memories you have set boundaries on. Should you decide to stop this negotiation anywhere in the future, I will automatically concede and keep the confidentiality of whatever that may happen. As long as on your part, you won’t consider asking for a refund.”

“I understand.”

“Good,” Y/N smiles, “Now first things first. Tell me any hurting point you have.”

Jungkook goes stiff. “Is this actually necessary?”

Y/N nods. “I know this is a tough question, but we’re talking about memories here.”

“I know but I can’t just divulge them to a stranger—"

“I think you don’t get what I’m saying.” Y/N lets out a humorless chuckle. “Look, Jungkook, when I attempt to see the future concerning this elusive driver you’re after, it is inevitable for the past to re-appear. There is no future without any past. Your past memories can clog up with the ones involved in the case because you are in the case. You’re heading it. Good or bad, memories will come up. That’s their thing. They spring up at the most inconvenient times. No matter how old they already are. No matter how long you must have already moved on from them. Memories demand to be remembered and you cannot just disregard them even if you will it to because it never gave anyone a choice to do otherwise. So, if you don’t set the boundaries on the memories you don’t want me to cross, I’ll just see everything in their utter unadulterated form.” Y/N leans forward, “And I can assure you, you don’t want that to happen.”

Jungkook prods his cheek with his tongue. “Fine. I’ll give you my hurting point and that’s that. No further questions.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook digs in his back pocket for his wallet and flips it open. There’s a tattered white edge of a picture peeking through the flaps. It’s been years since he pulled it out. Its replica, now tucked in his shelf, has prevented him from doing so for so many years. Jungkook closes his eyes and slides it toward the girl. “This boy. Anything that concerns him, I don’t want you to cross or even bring up. Understand?”

“Okay.” Y/N hands back the photo to him. “We go to the second step then. You must already have your assumed suspects. Tell me their names.”

Jungkook draws back. “I can’t tell you that, that’s highly classified information. FJO’s protocol doesn’t allow it and—”

“Do you seeking my help part of the protocol?”

Jungkook looks down, “No.”

“Right. So, tell me their names. I need to know them to make a memory map.”

Jungkook’s brows meet “A what?”

“A memory map,” Y/N repeats, “It’s something I make to identify points of certain memories in time. It guides me to the memories I need to tread to reach what I’m really looking for. It’s like a demo version of Forecrime’s box trainings but except of a machine, I’m doing it manually by hand. For all we know, the real suspect must be close to these suspects.”

Jungkook’s brow quirks up.

Y/N leans forward, “So, tell me their names?”

Jungkook turns his face away from her, looking at his clasped hands. “Well, I…only have one.”

“And that is?”

“Leigh Anderson. Winston’s assassin. FJO has been after him for 17 years. He also has a number of sponsors who’s been sending him missions with promises of large sums of money. But most of all, he’s rumored to have access to time jumping technologies. Illegal of course. FJO is the only one licensed to be utilizing them.”

“That’s good,” Y/N quips. “Do you have any pictures of him?”

Jungkook turns to his duffel bag and retrieves a picture. It’s Anderson in the scene of Winston’s murder that FJO has pinned to their system. The one in the crime record Jungkook produced. He hands it to Y/N. “Is this enough?”

“More than enough,” Y/N smiles. She stands up and walks to one of her cupboards, reaching for a ceramic bowl. She pours some tap water in it and turns back to the table, a short, white candle in hand. She places the candle on the water, letting it float. She retrieves a lighter from her dress pocket and lights up the wick of the candle.

Y/N puts her palms open on the table. “Let’s start now. Do you have your clicker with you?”

Jungkook’s brows meet. “What?”

“Your time jumper,” Y/N grits.

Jungkook looks at her incredulously. “I don’t see any reason why would you need it—”

“We’re going to the past to have a tangible memory to start on my memory map.” Before Jungkook could tear himself away from the table, Y/N launches forward and snatches the small, black device hanging on the man’s belt loop. Jungkook shoots an arm out and grabs onto it.

But it’s too late. Y/N’s already pushed the button.

The air is knocked out of Jungkook’s windpipe. A numbing pain starts to settle on his chest, a migraine forming on his temple. His limbs also feel stone-heavy. Precrime traveling has always been like this and yet Jungkook can never get used to it. However, he’s not left wondering about it for long because in the next second, Jungkook’s standing in front of a dark road. Tall shrubs and trees shadowing the moon, CCTVs mounted on the lamp posts lining the concrete. It’s Somerset Road.

Jungkook’s eyes widen. Why is he here? He tries to move but his limbs are stuck by his side, unmoving as he grunts. He tries to take a step back but the effort is futile when his feet are seemingly glued onto the dark asphalt. Jungkook sighs and turns to the road in front of him again. And this time around, Jungkook’s mouth falls ajar.

Y/N is standing idly at the other side of the road, opposite of him.

“H-how did you travel here—”

A car zooms past. Jungkook turns his head to the sound. The air is punched out from his esophagus. It’s his car—the silver-gray Ford. And there at the other end of the road emerges a black sedan sports Jaguar. The Jaguar speeds on and drives into the Ford, swerving it around, tires screeching loud on the pavement. It topples down, rolling around, then round, and round. Three times, Jungkook counted. Just like the CCTV Hoseok retrieved. The Ford stops, upside down. The black Jaguar zips past it. Like the CCTVs have shown, the Jaguar reaches the other end of the street and disappears. A second passes. The body of the driver in the car drops onto the cold pavement. It lolls his head to his side, bloodied face turned towards the man standing on the pavement.

Jungkook’s facing right into his past. He isn’t reliving the memory. He is living it. There’s no anger but pain. Fresh, unadulterated pain that cannot be accounted to the lacerations on his injured arm.

The wind howls. Jungkook remains frozen in his position. Then suddenly, everything stops—the distant honking of the cars, the wind, the clatter of the crushed car pieces falling onto the ground. What the fuck is happening? Jungkook turns around, only to come face to face with the girl.

Y/N’s arm shoots forward and fists the collar of his leather jacket, pulling him down to her level. “You didn’t say this business is personal!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jungkook spits, tearing her hand off him.

“It is, Jungkook! You said you were involved. I didn’t think it was this level of involved!”

“It doesn’t change any fact that I’m still going to be involved either way! I’m still going to head this case because it’s tied with Winston. What difference does it make if I am the victim of this fucking man?!”

“A lot!” Y/N screams. Jungkook stops. Y/N sighs, “It does a lot of difference, Jungkook. We’re already risking a lot in this until it turns out you’re a focal point in this case! You’re a fucking victim of this culprit! A conflict of interest is highly possible. You will be unable disassociate yourself from this and objectively investigate this case—”

“I don’t need you telling me what I should do or not, Y/N.” Jungkook steps forward to the girl. “I know what I’m doing. And I know it when I say I can investigate this following all the legal protocols.”

Y/N tilts her head. “How can you say that when you’ve just been face-to-face with your past self?”

Before Jungkook can say anything, Y/N closes her eyes and clicks her finger. In just one second, everything around Jungkook falls beneath his feet—the trees, Somerset Road, his bloodied self. It rips themselves off from his senses until all he could see again is the dilapidated atelier, the barren ceilings, and, Y/N.

Jungkook hunches over, coughing as air fills his lungs again. “H-how could you do that?”

Y/N blows off the candle. “My gift.” She glances at the man. “The accident is taking a serious toll on you. I have to take us out of the time jump.”

Jungkook sits back and glowers at her. “N-no, what I’m asking about is—how could you snatch my clicker and make a jump without any remorse? You do know that’s illegal!”

“I know. ‘FJO’s traveling agents and officials are the only ones allowed by the law to engage in time jumping activities’ yaddah yaddah bullshit.” Y/N leans on the table, face hovering the Captain’s. “But involving a then-law practitioner, much more an outsider like me, into your case is also illegal. I have my gift, yes. But I can only see the future and I won’t be able to see it accurately if I don’t have some sense of the past. Plus, I have no other pragmatic choice to start this case on the right foot. I already saw the future of our negotiation before you sat down on that stool. There’s nothing else I could say other than it didn’t end favorably for any of us.” Y/N turns back to the table she’s clearing, “Not that it’s any different now. Especially when I just learned the case you’ve showed me is more personal than you presented it to be.”

Jungkook purses his lips. He stands up, gathers his things, and wordlessly makes his way out of the atelier. He didn’t bid the girl any farewell.

“Looks like you haven’t been sleeping.”

Jungkook looks up at his friend before looking down at his crossed arms, turning his attention back to his mug of coffee.

Namjoon takes a seat cross Jungkook. “Did something happen?” He twirls the tea bag around his own mug, “Care to tell why you’ve been sporting those dark eye bags since two days ago?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing when the doctor precisely told you to have a healthy lifestyle to help your wound heal faster.”

Jungkook looks at Namjoon.

Namjoon points to his bandaged arm, “It indeed doesn’t look it’s healing fast like it’s supposed to.”

Jungkook sighs. “Fine, you caught me.” He purses his lips then looks at his friend, “I’ve been wondering. You know our clickers are designed to identify the agent it was assigned to before it could work. But, is it…possible for clickers to work on someone that doesn’t belong to FJO as long as someone from FJO is present?”

Namjoon keeps his gaze on him. A look of surprise seems to wash over his face. But it soon gets replaced by a look of recognition. Namjoon places the tea bag onto the saucer on his left. “I see you already met Y/N.”

“Y-you knew that about her?”

“I do,” Namjoon mutters over his cup of tea. “I learned it when the Bureau looked into the Linton Park serial murders. Seokjin’s team, including me, followed the memory map she made for us—a trail of memories that specifically belongs to anything related to the murders. But then, we hit a dead-end for the supposed next victim. Can’t identify her. We only had images of flashing movement—blood splattering in a barn, people running on a green field. There are just cops and a woman.”

Namjoon places down his cup, “And so, Y/N told me she needed me to help her make a time jump in the past. I pressed on the clicker and,” Namjoon shrugs, “Y/N successfully made the jump. And also successfully return with the info of the victim—a girl working on a farm. Y/N tied it to the flashing images of the field and deduced the running was not about us chasing a murderer’s accomplice. But us running after a victim before Linton could. It was hard to tell at first why the victim is running away from us. Until we learned through Y/N she was an illegal immigrant.”

Namjoon pulls his lips into a tight smile. “I think it’s an additional gift. But at the same time, it’s also a setback. A rightful one at that. Y/N’s inability to time jump in the past unless with a clicker a meter radius within her balances the power of her future-seeing gift. She still needs to rely on the system even if her gift for the future is, hypothetically, unbound from any constraints.” Namjoon takes a sip of his tea. “How ‘bout you? How did you learn this…extra ability of hers?”

“She snatched my clicker from me,” Jungkook leans back in his seat. “She said she needed a ‘tangible memory’ to start on her memory map. She ended up thrusting us back into the time of my car accident.”

Namjoon freezes. “Excuse me? Did you say ‘us’?”

Jungkook’s forehead furrows, “Yeah. We did the jump together, that’s why I’m asking you about this thing with the clickers.”

“Jungkook, she never did that before.”

Jungkook’s brows shoot up. “What?”

Namjoon scratches his nape, face scrunched up. “When she asked me to let her jump through my clicker, she didn’t take me along with the jump. It’s only her. Like it should always be as one clicker is only for one user. It’s always been like this in all the situations she asked me for a time jump in the past.” Namjoon looks at him, “I don’t know why you got in the same loop as her.”

The night was quiet but devoid of peace. Like an ugly pause in a running film that’s just about to unwind the questions they laid at the start. Even after intaking his blue pills, Jungkook finds it difficult to close his eyes shut.

“Big brother!”

Jungkook turns around. The small boy stands on his tiptoes, small arms reaching for him. Jungkook smiles, “You want to climb on my back again, Daehyun?”

“Yes!” Daehyun giggles.

“Alright then,” Jungkook crouches in front of him and Daehyun’s squeals grow louder as he loops his stubby arms around Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook stands up, securing the boy’s short legs around his torso. “Ready for some wind, big boy?” He asks. Daehyun nods frantically and soon, Jungkook is zooming on the green field, turning the heads of the children and volunteers in the park. But all Jungkook could hear was Daehyun’s laughter filling the nice summer afternoon. It brings a huge smile on Jungkook’s face.

Then—flashing blue and red lights. Cold pavement. A lone school bus standing in the middle. Its yellowness highlighted by the police’s yellow tape surrounding the area. Reporters dot every possible space on the crossroad. “Shooter on the loose.” “Poor child.” “Blood splattered on the seats.” But all Jungkook could hear is the white noise of the chattering. And the call of “Big brother!” he’ll never hear anymore.

Jungkook jolts awake. He sighs, closing his eyes. “It’s all in the past,” he mutters repeatedly under his breath. But no matter how many times he repeats it, it doesn’t shake off the horror he’s reeling in. He’s had this dream again and again for eight years straight. He should be already accustomed to it.

Jungkook sits up straight. He turns back to his computer and sees a couple of pictures open on the desktop. It was the screenshots of the CCTVs Yoongi gave them. He looks at the top of his desk. His notes empty of anything new other than Leigh Anderson’s name webbed next to an un-filled space for sponsors. Jungkook covers his face with his palms and yawns. Just then a series of text messages come in.

Unknown: This is Y/N. I know we left on bad terms three days ago. I’m the one to blame for that for overreacting. I’m sorry. It’s been a while since I’ve done a case for FJO. I’m still kinda hung up separating personal services from investigative ones. (2:13 P.M.)

Unknown: Nevertheless, I hope you’re free this day. Meet me at Somerset Road. 3 P.M. I don’t want you to waste the money you gave me yesterday (2:13 P.M.)

Somerset Road is a thirty-minute drive from the FJO Main Headquarters. However, it didn’t feel like it when Jungkook parks his car on the side road. It seemed like hours have gone by when the sun is about to set in the alcove of trees in the distance. It’s just three in the afternoon. Jungkook steps outside and shuts the door. From his position, he could make out a girl in ripped black denim pants and black tank layered with a pink see-through mesh shirt. From the striking red of the spider lilies on the top of her spine, Jungkook could tell it was Y/N. He almost didn’t recognize her. He wouldn’t know she has an undercut had her high ponytail didn’t highlight it.

The girl turns around and looks at him. “You’re late.”

“I have to bribe the Maintenance Office first to give me this afternoon’s CCTVs when we’re done.” Jungkook strides toward her, “How did you get my number?”

“Namjoon.”

Jungkook cocks a brow.

Y/N shrugs, “he wrote it in the letter you gave me. Should you, quote-unquote, be ‘difficult to deal with.’”

Jungkook keeps his lips in a straight line.

Y/N rocks on her toes, hands in her pocket. “Let’s get straight to it then. Take your clicker out and push it.”

“What are you intending to do—”

“A time jump.”

“Of course, I know that. What other purpose do we use our time jumps for?” Jungkook spits. “What I want to know is what we’re supposed to be doing first before I follow whatever you want me to do because I cannot just blindly trust you with this—”

Y/N turns her head to him, one brow cocked up, “Didn’t I tell you before I don’t fancy How-What-Why-Whatever questions to what I do or else my gift won’t work?”

“Yes, but—”

“Look, will you just push it or do you want me to snatch it from you again?” Y/N takes a step closer to him, leveling his eyes with hers. “I already did a read for today. I know its new hiding place.”

Jungkook remains unmoving in his stance.

Y/N crosses her arms. “If it would assure you, this session won’t end taxingly fruitless like the last time. I’m positive we’ll get something by the end of today.”

“How did you know?”

“I told you, I did a read for today. I saw you with an astounded face and me with a happy and proud smile. Obviously, we must have ended up finding something.”

Jungkook is still unconvinced.

Y/N sighs, “If you don’t want to do anything of what I can offer you, you know you can just terminate our connection anytime you want. Just so you know you can’t refund the 10,000 zials you gave me for the downpayment.”

Jungkook keeps his gaze on her. A couple of seconds pass before he sighs and shakes his head as he takes out his issued clicker tucked in the breast pocket of his leather jacket.

Y/N smirks. “See? You know you’re gonna need me in the end and you still try to put up an unnecessary fight.”

Jungkook grunts. He turns the clicker’s indicator to “1-2 weeks” timeframe and pushes the button.

It was just like their previous time jump—like any other Precrime time jump. It felt like nothing yet also everything at the same time. An amalgamation of sensations and perceptions flashing in front of him in the blink of an eye as he is transported back to the night of his accident. Jungkook looks down at his feet. He’s back to where he last stood at—the left side of the road next to the corner where his car will come from. Jungkook turns to his left and he almost jumps in shock. Unlike their last jump, Y/N is no longer on the opposite side of the road, but beside him, shoulders almost bumping his. Jungkook takes a staggering step away from her.

Even if Namjoon laid everything he knows about Y/N’s skills yesterday, Jungkook still finds it hard to accept that a clairvoyant is able to look into the past with such effortless access. Aren’t they only supposed to see the future?

“What are you looking at?”

Jungkook tears his gaze away from her. “Nothing.”

“Thought so, too,” Y/N quips. “We’re here to work after all. Not ogle at each other.”

Jungkook tongues his cheek. He’s not left to his frustration for long as after a second, the burning of tires on the asphalt is heard on their side of the road. A silver-gray Ford appears and it zooms past them in a flash. A black Jaguar subsequently shows up on the other side, its form nearing them each millisecond that passes. It’s only time ‘til the two crashes and sends Jungkook’s car rolling three times on the road.

But, it didn’t happen. The howls of the wind stop. The screeching of the tires halts in awkward silence. And the cars are frozen still. The Jaguar’s bumper and Ford’s right door are separated by a mere inch. It’s the second before the accident happens. Paused in a picture-like frame as if someone hit the pause icon on a video.

Jungkook whips his head to his side. Y/N has her palm closed in a post-click of her thumb and middle fingers. Jungkook feels his throat clog up, “H-how did you do that?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Told you before, it’s because of my gift. And it’s also just seconds ago I told you I don’t like questions about how my gift works.” Y/N steps away from him and onto the road. “Follow me.”

Jungkook silently follows behind. It’s only a matter of seconds that they reach the side of the door of the silver-gray Ford. Jungkook lets his fingers touch on the coated metal. It felt cold on his flesh. Solid. Real. Jungkook can’t help but be astonished. This is no regular time jump. Totally unlike the first one he did with the woman. For this time, Jungkook doesn’t feel he’s living the film of the scene, just like any of the standard Precrime time jumping. This time, Jungkook feels he’s in the scene. Not in a film, not like the virtual reality experienced by Forecrime agents. But in real-time.

“Take your hands off your car.”

Jungkook tears his hands away from his car. He looks at the girl. Y/N gives him a pointed look, “I know this time jump doesn’t feel like the standard time jumps of Precrime so you may be astounded with,” she motions around them, “all of this. But I prefer you not to get too overwhelmed. We’re here for work.”

Jungkook nods, reluctant. Y/N walks further into the side of the road, now a foot away from the spot where the cars should crash. Jungkook quickly follows behind. When he’s by an arms-length away from her, he faces back to the scene in front of him. And then, Y/N clicks her hand.

The trees sway again. The winds continue their violent gush on the road. And the cars collide. The film is playing again.

But then, Y/N clicks her fingers. The scene stops, frozen yet again. The bumper of the Jaguar has dug into the Ford’s door, crushing the metal with its momentum. The side mirror is broken, glass shards shattering in mid-air.

“Come here,” Y/N beckons. Jungkook walks close behind as Y/N stops by the point of intersection of the two cars. From their position, Jungkook could see the past him hunched over on the wheel, seat belt digging into his torso. The window by his side is broken, a splotch of blood marring the clear glass. And on his right, Jungkook could see the driver of the black Jaguar. Non-existent.

Y/N looks at him, “So we know the man you’re after is doing an illegal time jump similar to the pattern of Precrime’s traveling agents. But what you don’t know is: he’s a professional.”

“W-what?”

“Look,” Y/N flicks her wrist and makes an anti-clockwise motion of her hand. The sound goes void again and the cars back away from each other in slow motion. Jungkook’s brows shoot up. The scene is rewinding. Y/N is turning back the time before the Jaguar collided into the Ford. And then, Y/N moves her arm horizontally to her left and clicks her fingers. The Jaguar moves forward again, but slowly this time. Jungkook could see the silhouette of the driver with arms taut on the wheel disappearing into a cloud of smoke until it turns no more but a nonexistent person on the seat as it hits the door of the Ford.

Y/N clicks her fingers and the scene pauses. “As you saw, it only took the driver,” she glances at her watch, “ten seconds before completely disappearing into his time jump. From how fast he disappeared, we could say it only took him twenty seconds in total to make the entire jump. I can only deduce this as the memories we have are short of the time we could see him in his solid form. The same way goes for the CCTVs you gathered. It only captured the last ten seconds of the whole accident. The Jaguar nonexistent in the frame from 20:23:39 and anything beyond before that time mark. The CCTVs only showed the Jaguar from 20:23:40 to exactly 20:24. The last 10 seconds, devoid of any driver.”

The girl continues, “Now, to be able to completely vanish in just 20 seconds, you must be a professional in time jumping in the past. Which can only be done if you’ve undergone training under Precrime. However, this could also be just any other outsider that’s gotten lucky doing an illegal time jump. Considering Somerset Road has a strong electromagnetic field that can help anyone do their time jumps faster and more successfully—including the risky ones that involve a huge time frame of unbounded jumps into the past. But to know that about Somerset Road, much less know how to effectively take advantage of its field during a time jump—you should be a long-time agent of Precrime.”

Y/N faces Jungkook, “The man you’re after is either a professional Precrime traveling agent or an outsider who’s fed with all the necessary information only a Precrime agent could know. It’s an inside job.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “No. It can’t be. Every time-jumping device has a permanent tracker that can never be taken out even by the best engineer. Allen McGregor designed it to be like that to ensure these devices will not be used for personal interest. Every agent is tracked of their traveling activities and logged straight into the Investigation Bureau’s files. They’re inputted in glass files similar to the crime records—void for editing, copying, and deleting. And should it be an outsider utilizing Precrime’s technology, a travel will still be tracked back to the agent whose device was used.” Jungkook looks at Y/N. “There have been no reports of anyone traveling on Somerset Road the night of my accident.”

Y/N shrugs, “I’m just saying what I saw. Especially this.” Y/N makes an anti-clockwise motion of her hands and the scene rewinds again. The Jaguar is frozen back into five seconds before it hits the silver-gray Ford. Y/N walks toward the car, Jungkook close behind. The girl motions to the passenger seat and Jungkook stills. There on the leather seat is a red file case. Unprecedented murder. Precrime Murder Sector. But this is not what rendered Jungkook immobile in shock. Rather, it’s the label on the file case.

“Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

“See?” Y/N smirks, “Told you we’ll find something today.”

A click of the hand and soon, the dark night sky of Somerset Road bleeds into the burning colors of the sunset. There’s no longer the silver-gray Ford and the black Jaguar. It’s just Jungkook and Y/N alone in the road, back to where they were before.

Jungkook hunches over, coughing as he beats his chest. When he finally stabilizes his breathing back to normal, he turns to the girl. “You…Ho-how can you be so sure with all of these vi-visions?”

Y/N looks at Jungkook, an indecipherable look on her face. “This is what you paid for 10,000 zials. I’m handing you what your eyes missed on just the way they are.”

Jungkook holds in his breath as he knocks on the glass door.

“Come in.”

Jungkook pushes the door open and salutes. “Chief Nathan Spencer.”

“Captain Jeon,” the Chief of Precrime glances up at him before returning back to the stack of papers he’s signing. He motions to the chair in front of his desk, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Jungkook pulls back the black chair and sits.

“So, what brings you here?”

“This week’s report, sir—the joint investigation with DOJ on the unidentified black Jaguar.” Jungkook places a brown folder on the Chief’s desk.

The chief looks at the captain. “Still no progress in the identification?”

Jungkook shakes his head, face grim.

“That can’t be helped,” Nathan sympathetically mutters. “It’s not the first time FJO has handled a difficult case.”

“But it is the first time FJO can’t identify a suspect with its current system.”

“You’re right,” Nathan nods. He flips open the brown folder and skims the report. “How’s the auditor doing?”

Jungkook clenches his jaw. “Fine. Still…meddling with our processes.”

Nathan lets out a light scoff. “As expected of someone who’s running for a promotion. Always been a know-it-all jerk, this Min Yoongi.”

Jungkook makes a tight-lipped smile.

Nathan chuckles. “Forgive me. I’ve always had a prejudice against DOJ’s auditors. Most, if not all of them, always give us a hard time more than what’s necessary. Anyway, what else do you have for me, Jungkook?”

The captain sits up straight. “I would like to ask a favor, sir.”

Nathan clasps his hand on his desk. He leans forward. “What is it?”

“It’s for the investigation. DOJ has access to all of our files—Precrime, Forecrime, and even the Investigation Bureau. So I figured if I can also do the same since our sector seems to be their main target. If I have the same leverage on our own information as them, I can have control over this investigation and drive them away before they can even assume power over us.” Jungkook leans on the table, “We could see the problems first before they become visible to DOJ.”

Nathan raises his brow. “So what do you mean?”

“I would like to have unrestricted access in our archives. Everything that contains anything pertaining to FJO.” Jungkook leans forward, “Including the Memory Temple.”

The chief sighs, “That’s a big favor, Jungkook.”

“I know. That’s why Chief General Andrews told me to go to you.”

Nathan’s brows shoot up, “The Chief General?”

“Yes, Chief General Matthew Andrews. He said you’re good friends with Chief of the Bureau, Natasha Ryde. Chief Andrews wants to ask if you could do a favor of a friend for a friend.” Jungkook slides a white envelope underneath the folder, “Of course, not without considerable credit.”

Nathan purses his lips. A beat. He shakes his head, sighing. “Okay…I’ll try to put in a word for you. I can give you the entire archives tomorrow. But the Memory Temple could take a while. Two days or three.”

“That’s fine with me.” Jungkook smiles. He stands up and heads to the end of the room. Before he could disappear behind the door, he salutes one more time, “Thank you for the kind accommodation, Chief.”

Jungkook heads to the main elevator and hits the second floor below the Superiors’ Hall. The metal doors ding open and soon, Jungkook’s looking at a wide expanse of glass wall reflecting hundreds of shelves on the glass panes.

Jungkook heads to the entranceway and salutes at the guard, “Sally.” The guard returns the salute, smiling. Jungkook tilts his head, “Did the Bureau come by to retrieve Precrime files?”

“Not yet, sir. The Bureau’s still busy in their matters with DOJ. They halted the synching of files for now.”

“That’s good,” Jungkook quips and pushes the glass doors open.

Tall metal bookshelves snake like an accordion around the floor. The spaces between them is occasionally filled up by wooden desks that mandatorily come along with a wooden bookstand and black study lamp. It looks like a hedge maze made of old books, monochrome papers, and multi-colored files.

Jungkook heads to the leftmost aisle—Precrime’s archives. He weaves his way through the bookshelves until he stops in front of a separated room in the middle of the labyrinth. It’s made completely out of glass, just like FJO’s offices. The only difference is that this room contains five sets of desks and chairs, bookshelves, and the Archive Manager’s huge white station as the centerpiece.

And before Jungkook could finish leveling his eyes to the scanner set by the door, he could already feel the growing stare of Emily Young.

“Captain Jeon.”

“Ms. Young,” Jungkook nods to the manager.

Emily smiles, “To what do I owe your visit today?”

“Jonathan Winston’s Assassination case file.”

“As usual,” The thirty-seven-year-old manager sing-songs as she stands up and disappears into the back room. It doesn’t take long for her to retrieve what the Precrime captain is looking for.

A long expandable, red file with the label in Arial 12 print: “Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

Just like in Y/N’s time jump. Identically the same. Jungkook looks at the manager, “Do you have a log of anyone who looks into this file?”

Emily chuckles, “I don’t think that will bring anything new to the table, captain.” She scans the numeric code of the file and turns the monitor of her computer towards him. “There’s no one who’s been looking at this file but you.”

Jungkook peers in. Indeed, the log on Winston’s file contains nothing but his name. From August 15, 2047, the date of Winston’s assassination, to the most recent date, August 3, 2059. The day after Leigh Anderson’s suicide. The day after the Winston case was closed cold. There’s no other name in the log for 12 years other than his name.

Jungkook looks back at Emily, “Are you sure this is the complete log on this file? No one borrowed the file earlier than July 12th?”

“That’s the whole log, captain. There’s no record on August 1st because we’re closed to do an inventory check.” Emily leans back in her chair. “Everyone knows you’re busy on a case in Down Hill for the entirety of June. The Allison future murder is all over the news. Of course, with a Metropolis resident as a future victim. And with you busy on another case, this Winston’s file is devoid of any viewers.” Emily releases a chuckle. “Every cop has an obsession with a particular case. Everyone here knows Winston’s case is yours. I think I will remember if someone other than you looked into this file because I swear that day will be a miracle.”

Jungkook purses his lips, face undecipherable. Right then, his phone rings loud. He turns to his back and picks it up. “Hello?”

“Captain.” It’s Jimin.

“What is it?”

“You have to come to the sector now. There’s a file from Precrime. It’s…a blank.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon,” Jungkook ends the call. He faces Emily. “Thank you for today, Emily.” The archives manager nods with a playful salute at him. Jungkook quickly returns the salute and pushes the door open. Soon, he’s tearing past the labyrinth of shelves.

It doesn’t take Jungkook longer than ten minutes to reach the left-wing of the 2nd floor. The cold sweat from the discovery in the archives is still clinging on his nape.

As soon as he steps into Murder Sector, everyone’s eyes are set on him. Including Yoongi. Jungkook prods his cheek with his tongue as he slides in the gloves over his hands. “Jimin, give me the run-over.”

“Captain, Jeon. It’s a grayish-white file. Precrime, Property and Crime Scene Sector. Traveling agent in charge is Eric Williams. Crime record validated by traveling agents Hannah Peters and Ivan Park. Case number 3571, hit-and-run, destruction of property. Suspect is unknown. Victim’s name is…Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook whips his head towards the secretary, eyes wide.

“It’s your case, sir.” Jimin confirms, “Eric accidentally time jumped into the night of your hit-and-run while he’s traveling for a T-Bone accident in Middle Town. Property and Crime Scene figured this blank is a crucial update on your case.” He walks to the end of the glass board and slides the disk into the middle slot.

Jungkook turns to his front. The glass board lights up and a video starts playing. It’s Somerset Road and it’s almost pitch black in the grainy film. Eric stands frozen on the pavement for a second. But the seeming serenity of the scene soon dissipates as he looks down at his gear and frantically fumbles for his time jumper. Suddenly, hot blinding light fills his peripherals. Eric’s head shoots up. A car is speeding toward him. The headlights grow larger and finally, the car becomes visible. It’s the silver-gray Ford. Eric turns around and right then, a black Jaguar zooms past him, merely missing him by a hairsbreadth. But the Jaguar doesn’t stop and further increases its speed. It bulldozers right into the side of the Ford, sending it flying across the barren road. Eric picks up his feet and dashes to the cars. But his efforts are futile. The black Jaguar has already disappeared before he could even take his 12th step. And then, the record stops.

Before Jimin could even state the protocol run-through, Jungkook frantically swipes through the blank record. He slides across the frames in reverse, back and backward until he reaches the first second of the blank.

“Sir, I’m afraid we have to do the protocol first—"

Jungkook’s hand stills on the board. The frame freezes. It’s a close-up of the black Jaguar as it barely grazes Eric’s body. Jungkook zooms in. There inside the passenger seat of the car is a long, red expandable file. “Jonathan Winston Assassination; August 15, 2047; 12:30:00.”

Jungkook feels his blood run cold. It’s the same file he just had his hands on less than 15 minutes ago. It’s the same file he saw in his and Y/N’s jump. Y/N’s vision is true.

Jungkook feels his pocket vibrate and he quickly whips out his phone. However, he wasn’t able to dwell on it longer as a hard force pushes his shoulder backward, forcing Jungkook to tear his eyes off the screen.

Yoongi glares at him, “Why are you indifferent about this? You know something about this, didn’t you? Captain Jeon!”

But even with his name called out loud, Jungkook couldn’t hear anything. All that registers in his mind is one single message.

Y/N L/N: Have you ever heard of a Sooah Kim before? (11:14 A.M.)

prev | next | series masterlist

Note: This story is based on Steven Spielberg’s film adaptation of Philip K. Dick’s short story, Minority Report (2002). That being said, this series may contain spoilers for the movie so if you want to watch the movie, please do so first before reading!

A/N | Hi hons! Thank you for reading the 2nd chapter! I hope I got you guys more curious about the story hehe. Anyway, I have some announcement: I have finals for a major coming up this week so I’ll spend the next whole week studying. So, I’ll try if I can update the next chap the week after next week, on Sunday, too. But nothing is certain yet as I still have some uni stuff to do. Don’t worry, I only have 3 projects left to do to finally finish this sem. So as soon as I’m done with them, expect more frequent updates from me!

If you guys wanna get notified as soon as I post the next chapter, I’m gonna add you all in my taglist! Just hit me up down the comments of this series’ masterlist so I can better track you all! The search function of Tumblr is messing with me and my notifs in my inbox usually come late so it’s highly probable your asks and DMs may get lost ☹

Once again, thank you for reading and giving a chance to My Time! :”)

Notes: As you know, this is a mystery fic. So, it will be most appreciated if any theories pertaining to the story be kept down the comments so I can entertain them all without spoiling our future readers! Once again, thank you so much for reading this!

162 notes · View notes

suzuki-violin-school · 4 years

Text

Thanksgiving Special !!

Part of a holiday special series!

Most of the other students are home for the holidays, spending time with their families. A certain group of kids from class 1-A, however, are all staying at the dorms during the break, and they’ve decided to take matters into their own hands regarding the holidays. This was supposed to be a short xTodoroki drabble but now it’s almost 3000 words with no particular ships

Masterlist

Content: fem!reader, pure fluff, Todoroki being a precious clueless baby, Bakugo saying bad words, cards against humanity, togetherness, thanksgiving themes, autumn themes

Y/n stared into the oven, her ankles beginning to get sore from crouching for so long.

She opted to sit on the floor instead.

“It’ll cook faster if you’re not looking,” Kirishima said, glancing down at her. “That’s what they say, at least. Like watching paint dry.”

“That’s not the only reason I’m down here,” Y/n said. She smiled up at him. “It’s warm.”

“If you want heat, just ask Todoroki for a hug or something! ...God knows he could use it,” Kirishima mumbled. He turned to lean against the counter, facing out towards the main space of the common area. “Can’t believe there’s so many of us staying for the holidays!”

“Yeah!” Y/n said enthusiastically. “But that just means we get to be each other’s families and celebrate together! ...God knows we’re a better family to Todoroki than Endeavor.”

A floating coat and earmuffs bounded up to them happily.

“It smells great over here!” Hagakure said excitedly. “That means all the food is doing good, right?”

“Yep!” Y/n said. “We followed just about every recipe we could find.”

“I’ll be surprised if we can eat it all,” Kirishima said, laughing.

“Seriously? I’m afraid we won’t have enough!” Y/n said, getting up from the floor. “How are things on your end, Toru?”

“Aoyama, Tokoyami and I all went super ham at the store! We bought every decoration you can think of!” Hagakure said proudly. “And lemme tell ya, a lot of it’s covered in glitter.”

“Well, Aoyama was on décor duty,” Kirishima said, shrugging. “What did we expect?”

“Did Tokoyami get regular decorations or edgy, goth ones?” Y/n asked. She heard someone clearing their throat and saw that Tokoyami was sitting on a couch in the common area, unpacking a shopping bag and laying things out on the coffee table. “I’m kidding!”

“How’s the construction team doing?” Kirishima asked, looking towards Hagakure’s floating clothes.

“It’d be a lot easier with Yaomomo here,” she said, sighing. “But alas, she’s with her rich, rich family.”

“I’m sure they’re doing well,” Tokoyami said. “Shoji, Sero, and Todoroki know how to work well with others. I’m more worried about Bakugo.”

“Pfft! Don’t let him hear you say that,” Y/n said, laughing. “He’ll take it the wrong way, all like, ‘worried about me? What, you don’t think I can take of myself? I’m Bakugo, I get offended when people care about me and I yell at everyone all the time and don’t know how to express my emotions’!”

“Man, I love your impressions,” Kirishima said, laughing to himself.

“I don’t.”

Bakugo walked through the common area, hands in his pockets and his usual angry expression on his face. He walked right up to Y/n, but she spoke before he could berate her.

“Yeah? I don’t care. Buuut, if you’re gonna be a jackass while you’re here, you should go home to your family like the rest of the class!” She said, pushing him away to a respectable, less ‘in-my-face’ distance. “I mean, Midoriya’s with his mom, Yaomomo’s back in her family’s mansion, hell, even Tsu’s out with family!”

“Hey, has anyone seen Ashido?” Kirishima asked, cutting off Bakugo’s response.

“Huh? Oh, no, I haven’t,” Hagakure said, looking around. “Last time I checked, she was sketching out her design plans on the couch.”

“Well, I trust her,” Y/n said dismissively. “Maybe disappearing for an hour or two is part of her creative process. You guys will be helping her put all your decorations up, right?”

“Of course we will,” Tokoyami said.

“Bakugo, what’s your contribution for our little party?” Hagakure asked. Bakugo scoffed.

“We are not letting you celebrate the holidays with us unless you pitch in and do your share,” Y/n said sternly. “The rest of us are working hard to make this holiday break fun, and you’re doing jack shit.”

“Oh, she’s being strict,” Hagakure said, laughing. “You’d better watch out, Bakugo, she’ll kick your ass.”

“Yeah, right, like she could touch me,” he grumbled. “...So what the fuck do you even want me to do?”

“Good question,” Y/n said. She hummed to herself as she thought for a moment. “Entertainment!”

“Ooh, good idea!” Hagakure chirped, smiling even though no one could see. “You could go out and get us some board games, or video games maybe, or a new movie, or buy us a stereo, or-”

“I get it, shut up,” Bakugo said, annoyed. “I’ll go out and buy some shit, but then I’m done.”

Y/n sighed loudly.

“Kirishima and I made a whole feast’s worth of food, Aoyama, Tokoyami, and Hakagure went out and bought decorations to put up with Ashido, and Todoroki, Shoji, and Sero are installing an entire new fireplace into the building,” Y/n muttered to herself. “And BaKuGo is going to buy us a BoArD gAmE.”

She shook her head to herself as she turned her attention back to the oven. Kirishima patted her shoulder.

“He’s Bakugo, we should’ve expected this,” he said quietly, not wanting Bakugo to hear him. He smiled suddenly. “I’ll look after the food, you go check on Sero and the guys!”

“Ah, yes, my favorite band,” Y/n said, grinning. “Sero and The Guys.”

Kirishima and Hagakure both laughed, and Y/n could swear she even heard Tokoyami chuckle as Kirishima smacked her arm.

“Go check on the new fireplace, you idiot!” He demanded playfully.

“Don’t let anyone touch the pies yet,” Y/n warned. “I’m putting my faith in you, Kiri.”

“A terrible decision, really,” Kirishima stated flatly. “I’ll be the only one touching those pies.”

“Don’t eat them all by yourself!” Hagakure whined. “Wait until later!”

Y/n left the kitchen area to stroll through the common space, stopping only to ruffle Tokoyami’s feathers. She passed Aoyama on her way out of the building, busy admiring some sparkly paper leaves he must’ve bought while he was out with the others.

Y/n made her way outside, trying to ignore the cold, and found the construction team almost finished attaching a chimney to the side of the building. They’d worked on the inside earlier, about the same time she and Kirishima had started all the cooking, but she was still impressed with how quickly they’d been working.

“Wow!” She marveled, alerting them of her presence. “Guys, this is amazing! A communal fireplace for all of us to hang out?! This is gonna be awesome!”

“I know, right?” Sero said proudly. “Imagine all the cool things we can use this for!”

“Please tell me that the fires’ll reflect on one of the walls,” Y/n said excitedly. “If we can’t make shadow puppets, I’m done!”

“...Shadow puppets?” Todoroki repeated curiously. “What are those?”

“You’ve never made shadow puppets?” Sero asked, a little surprised. Todoroki shook his head. “Well, if you’ve got a light in a dark room, you can use your hands to make shapes on the walls.”

“Shoji, I bet you could make a bunch at once, huh? Lucky,” Y/n said.

“I only know how to make dogs and rabbits,” Shoji said. “So it’s not that impressive.”

“Well, you guys be sure to come inside once you’re finished,” Y/n said. “The food’s almost done, they’re about to put up decorations, and we convinced Bakugo to go out and buy us some games.”

“Wow, Bakugo’s helping out?” Sero asked, genuinely shocked. “That’s a surprise. Did you have to threaten him?”

“Something like that,” Y/n said. Sero laughed.

“That’s our girl!” He said proudly. “What’d you say?”

“I just told him he can’t celebrate with us if he doesn’t pitch in,” Y/n said, shrugging. “Honestly, I was surprised he gave in so easily. I guess he actually wants to spend time with us.”

“Maybe he just wants the food,” Shoji said. “He might just be using us.”

“That would be pretty Bakugo of him,” Y/n said, nodding. “You guys are almost done, right?”

“We actually finished about the same time you joined us,” Todoroki said. “Do you need us inside?”

“Not need, per se,” Y/n said. “But you’re certainly welcome. Kirishima’s finishing up some apple-orange cider we made, if you want something warm. Ashido could use some help putting up decorations, if you want to keep working.”

“Thank you,” Todoroki said, nodding thankfully. “I’ve never had… Apple-orange cider?”

“It tastes like autumn!” Y/n said excitedly. “It’s all spiced, and warm, and smells like cinnamon…”

“You’re really selling it there, Y/n,” Sero said, laughing. “It better live up to all that. I’m heading in, you two coming?”

Todoroki nodded, but Shoji shook his head.

“I’m going to make sure this is all sturdy,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the new chimney.

“Hey, Todoroki, you want to start a fire when we get in? Use the fireplace for the first time?” Sero asked. Todoroki nodded slowly.

“Sure,” he said.

“Mmm… Just the sound of all this makes me feel warm and cozy,” Y/n said, laughing.

“It should!” Sero said loudly, the three of them leaving Shoji as they went inside. “Tonight’s gonna be great.”

Y/n held the door open for Sero and Todoroki as they went inside, and she reveled in the warmth.

“I come bearing gifts!” She announced. “Sero and The- Sero and A Guy.”

“Only one?” Kirishima asked, not sparing a glance at them as he continued work in the kitchen. Tokoyami looked up at them from the couch, now sitting between Ashido and Aoyama.

“Is Shoji still outside?” He asked. Y/n nodded.

“Making sure nothing’s about to fall apart on us,” she said.

She watched as Todoroki walked over to the new fireplace, observing it for a few moments.

“Is there any kindling?” He asked.

“We could use all our old test papers!” Ashido joked. Todoroki raised an eyebrow at her.

“Paper burns too fast,” he said. “It doesn’t last.”

“I can text Bakugo and tell him to pick up some firewood on his way back,” Y/n suggested. Todoroki hummed in acknowledgement, so she pulled her phone from her pocket and texted Bakugo.

Bakugo: THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT MORE STUFF I ONLY HAVE SO MUCH FUCKIN MONEY YOU KNOW

“Did he say anything?” Ashido asked. Y/n nodded.

“Complaining,” she said simply, walking over to join Kirishima. “Any updates?”

“Just keepin’ everything warm right now,” he said, smiling. “We don’t want any cold turkey, now, do we?”

“Are the pies okay?” Y/n asked.

“You guys made pie?!” Sero asked excitedly.

“Pumpkin, apple, and cherry,” Y/n confirmed, nodding proudly. “I mean, if Kirishima hasn’t devoured them all.”

“Hey, you said you trusted me!” Kirishima said, pouting.

“Where’d Hagakure go?” Y/n asked, looking around.

“She ran up to her room to put her earmuffs away,” Ashido said. She fell quiet for a moment, looking around the room and creating a frame with her fingers. “We can put some leaves on that window there, and that cornucopia can go on the table.”

Sero walked over and joined Y/n and Kirishima in the kitchen.

“Man, it smells good in here!” He said excitedly. “What’d you guys make?”

“Pie, turkey, stuffing,” Y/n said, listing things off on her fingers. “Cider.”

“Some stuffing and potatoes, cranberry sauce, and Y/n taught me how to make strawberry jam!” Kirishima added. “And a bunch more dessert stuff, and some weird coffee.”

“I can’t wait,” Sero said enthusiastically, grinning.

The front door slammed open.

“I got your shit, you fucks.”

“Hey! Today is about being thankful and kind!” Kirishima scolded. Y/n walked over to Bakugo and grabbed a bundle of firewood from his arms.

She brought it over to the fireplace and let Todoroki help her set it in the fireplace before he set a hand on a log, lighting a fire.

“Mmm, warm!” Hagakure cooed, coming back into the main room. “Oh, Bakugo’s back! What’d you get us?”

“...Cards Against Humanity.”

“Aw, that’s such a Bakugo game!” Y/n said, smiling. “A game where you can be together with the people you refuse to let know you love and say things like ‘I eat ass for a living and my wife is pregnant with a turtle from Russia’.”

“What the fuck goes through your head, L/n?” Bakugo asked, taking the box of cards out of his shopping bag. He walked over to the coffee table in front of the couches and set it down, putting the bag next to it. “I’m done now, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Y/n groaned. “Ashido, you need any more help with the, uh… Sparkly leaves?”

“Nope!” Ashido said happily. “We’re just about finished!”

At the same time, Shoji joined everyone indoors.

“Everything all good out there?” Sero asked. Shoji nodded. “Well, that’s everything done, then, right?”

“Oui! Merci beaucoup, everyone!” Aoyama said excitedly, twirling around in a sparkly trenchcoat- No, not sparkly, magnifique.

“So, then, who’s hungry?” Kirishima asked, leaning closer to the fridge.

“It’s time for a feast, everyone,” Y/n said proudly. “Kiri, let’s get everything to the well-decorated table. Thank you, décor team.”

“You’re very welcome,” Tokoyami said, picking up a fallen paper leaf and looking for the tape on the wall it had left behind.

“Oh, I got it dude,” Sero said, putting his elbows to good use and putting the leaf back.

“Thank you, Sero,” Tokoyami said, nodding gratefully before deciding to push two tables together, making space for everyone.

Y/n and Kirishima took a few minutes to move all the food while Ashido and Hagakure set the table. Once everything was in place and everyone was sitting down, they decided their work was all worth it. The warmth of the fire, the dollar store décor, the smell of the food, and even the sparkles reflecting off of everything Aoyama had insisted on buying.

“I don’t usually do anything fancy before eating,” Y/n said, making sure she spoke before anyone started eating. “But my family has a tradition on Thanksgiving. Before we start, everyone at the table goes around and says what they’re thankful for. I think it’s only right that we do the same thing right now.”

“That sounds fun,” Kirishima agreed. There were a few nods of agreement and acknowledging hums around the table. “Who’s going first?”

“I can do it,” Y/n said, smiling. “I’m grateful for all of you guys, and the rest of the class. Without you, I don’t think hero training would be any fun.”

Kirishima agreed, saying he was thankful for his friends and family. Shoji thanked everyone as well, Ashido and Hagakure thanked the girls of class 1-A, Aoyama thanked his family and France, and Sero thanked family and friends. Tokoyami said he was grateful both to and for Dark Shadow, and Todoroki thanked Midoriya for ‘saving’ him.

“Last is Bakugo,” Kirishima said, enjoying hearing his friends talk about the things and people they love.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo grumbled. “...I guess I’m thankful for you guys or whatever.”

“Aw! Bakugo, that’s so sweet!”

“Shut up and eat your damn food!”

Everyone enjoyed the food, thanking Y/n and Kirishima and asking how on earth they did it. Once everyone had eaten their fill, they moved to the couches, ready to play the card game Bakugo had gotten.

“Wait, one thing first!” Y/n said suddenly. She ran over to a light switch and turned off the lights in the room, leaving only the bright glow of the new fireplace. “Todoroki’s never heard of shadow puppets before.”

“Really?” Kirishima asked. Todoroki nodded and Kirishima just smiled. “Well, awesome! I know so many animals!”

“...Animals?” Todoroki asked slowly. Kirishima nodded excitedly and raised both hands, intertwining them oddly. “What are you doing?”

“Look at the wall,” Y/n explained. Todoroki looked at the wall, seeing the shadows Kirishima’s hands were making. “What do you see?”

“It’s an elephant,” Todoroki stated flatly. He looked at Kirishima, fascinated, and attempted to imitate the hand shape.

Y/n looked at the wall for a minute before making a deer, which prompted Ashido and Shoji to make a wolf and a rabbit. Everyone reveled in Todoroki’s delight until Bakugo got fed up and decided to turn the lights back on.

“Either play the damn cards or give me my twenty bucks back.”

“...I didn’t realize Card Against Humanity was so expensive,” Sero said slowly. “Let’s get to it! I wanna hear all your darkest, dirtiest jokes!”

“I’ll deal,” Tokoyami said.

The box of cards was soon opened, and cards passed out throughout the group.

Tokoyami pulled the first black card as the game was explained to Todoroki and Aoyama.

“Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m ____.”

Being a dick to children - Bakugo

Being sad and horny - Kirishima

Getting fisted by a man with no fingers - Shoji

Slowly releasing a huge fart over the course of two minutes - Aoyama

Floating in a pool of blood - Todoroki

Stapling a butterfly to a cow - Hagakure

Kayaking with my sluts - Ashido

A twink in a bounce house - Sero

Having a bunch of kids by accident - Y/n

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanfiction #fanfics #thanksgiving #holidays #katsuki bakugo #shoto todoroki #hanta sero #mina ashido #toru hagakure #mezo shoji #fumikage tokoyami #yuga aoyama #eijiro kirishima #x reader #cards against humanity #shadow puppets

25 notes · View notes

walkerismychoice · 4 years

Text

Unwritten - Chapter 2

Book: Platinum

Pairing: M!Raleigh X MC

Rating: This series will contain mature themes. Any necessary warnings will be listed before each chapter, but the overall series rating is 18+

Series Summary: Newly discovered talent Aria Campbell get unknowingly assigned to help write Raleigh Carerra’s latest album and rehabilitate his image in the process.

Summary: Aria and Raleigh start settling into the beach house. Things could be going better.

Word Count: 1868

Master List

Kidz Bop?! Aria can't decide if she's more mortified or pissed off at Raleigh's response to the prospect of writing his album with her. At 22, she can't be more than 5 years younger than him, maybe less, but she hasn't kept up with his personal details other than catching an occasional tabloid headline. And sure, she might be from a small Midwestern town, but between her outfit, an off the shoulder royal blue top and distressed black jeans, and her long, wavy black hair, she thinks she comes off as cool but not trying too hard. But what if the fact that she thinks that means she's not cool at all? Whatever. Maybe she should just slap a big snake tattoo on her neck and then Raleigh would respect her. Does he think all those dumb tattoos make him edgy? His tattoos are kind of hot though....No, scrub that thought. Raleigh Carerra is proving to be nothing more than the arrogant bad boy the media makes him out to be.

"Okay then..." Aria mutters under her breath, more of a question than a statement.

Fiona glares towards the Escalade. "Just hold on." She charges forward and tries to open Raleigh's door, but of course it's locked. "Hank!" she calls out but he's already anticipating what she wants, unlocking the doors before she asks, and she flings the door open. "Raleigh, get out of the car."

Raleigh scoffs, "I'd rather quit making music than write this sell-out album just to make the label more money. I don't need any of this."

"Have you forgotten that Ellis and the legal team at Overknight Records helped keep you out of jail? It's not too late for charges to be filed. This was the deal. You make this last record, redeem your image, and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Until then, you are going to apologize to this very talented young woman, and then get your ass in that house and start writing with her. Unless you want a felony on your record. You wouldn't look so bad in orange I suppose..."

"Oh, fuck off, Fiona," Raleigh grumbles as he gets back out of the car.

"I'd be glad to, but if you remember our contract, I don't get my bonus until you finish this album. The sooner you finish, the sooner you can be rid of me nagging you all the time. So like I said, get a move on. Oh! Before I forget..." Fiona reaches in her pocket and hands Aria a key and and an archaic looking cell phone and then does the same for Raleigh.

"The fuck is this? I didn't know they still made these." Raleigh pries open the basic flip phone, navigating the limited features. He attempts to key in a number before frustration sets in and he seems about ready to chuck the phone into the ocean. "This piece of shit doesn't text or dial out."

Fiona smiles smugly as the scene unfolds. "Oh it works perfectly fine...but only for approved, pre-programmed numbers."

Curious as to who's in her list, Aria powers up her phone and checks the contacts. Her mom, dad, and sister, as expected, along with some professional contacts including Hank and Fiona. She's pleasantly surprised they included Shane as well. Aria had put him as one of her emergency contacts, so they must trust her judgement as far as he's concerned. Her nerves start to settle ever so slightly with this lifeline.

Looking at his list, Raleigh scoffs and snaps the phone shut. "Is this a joke?" His hardened features are a bit disconcerting, piquing Aria's curiosity.

"I can assure you each of your lists was carefully selected to facilitate your creative process. Now, I'll leave you both to it." Fiona turns and heads in the opposite direction of the beach house.

"Where are you going?" Aria asks, concern creeping into her voice. Normally she doesn't need someone to hold her hand, but these aren't normal circumstances, and she's not quite ready for Fiona to leave her alone. She kind of feels like a kindergartner being dropped off for her first day of school to be honest.

"To the guest house. Where Frank and I are staying," Fiona replies.

"I knew there was something going on between you two." Raleigh chimes in with a devilish grin.

Hank coughs. "That would be unprofessional."

"There are two bedrooms," Fiona adds, rolling her eyes.

Now Aria's panicking a little inside. Or maybe a lot. She's expected to stay alone with this very intimidating celebrity who very well may hate her already?

"Wouldn't it make more sense for us all to stay together? The main house is more than big enough," she suggests .

Fiona lets out a terse laugh. "No. Absolutely not. It's enough that Hank and I have to stay and babysit to ensure this project gets done. We can't be bothered by singing and music playing at all hours. Think of it as a gift that you won't have to consider our sleeping habits while you work."

"I don't care who stays where, but I just need to know where my bed is at. It's 11am, and I should still be sleeping for at least a few more hours yet." Raleigh tilts his head towards the back of the truck, directing Hank. "You can bring my bags to my room." He takes off, the scent of alcohol hanging in the air as he passes.

Must be nice to order people around like that, Aria thinks as she reaches for the bags in the trunk. She's not too good to carry her own luggage.

"Ms. Campbell," Hank places a hand on her arm to stop her. "That's not necessary. Why don't you go inside and start settling in while I bring in your things."

Well, he is offering. It would be rude to turn him down, wouldn't it? Aria follows Raleigh into the house, and not wanting to ruffle any feathers more than she has merely just for existing in his space, she stands back and allows him to select his room first.

While she waits, Aria takes a look around. Although the exterior style of the home hints at its age, the inner design is exactly as modern and kept up as Aria would expect at a place where celebrities stay, with lots of white, shades of blue and blue-green accents, and nautical themed decor scattered about.

In the great room stands a gorgeous white baby grand piano that probably, no definitely, costs more than everything Aria owns combined. Aria steps over, gently striking a key, and for the first time since she signed the contract, begins to allow herself to get excited about making music here.

"Ms. Campbell?" Hank breaks Aria's chain of thought. "Where would you like me to put your things?"

"Oh...I need to pick out my room." She jogs up the stairs ans Hank follows. There are 6 rooms total, three on either side of the corridor. The first two are a bit smaller with bunk beds, so Aria counts them out, but the next two have promise.

As she approaches the last pair, one door is slightly, ajar and she notices Raleigh passed out face down and snoring on the bed already. Of course he would choose the master bedroom for himself, but as Aria looks at the remaining bedroom, she doesn't really mind. Although she considers taking one of the bunk bed rooms just to be as far from him as possible, she cant resist the spacious yet cozy space with a king-size bed and seaside view.

"I'll take this one." Aria directs Frank and he gently places her suitcases on the floor before excusing himself.

Aria kicks of her sandals and plops on the bed, staring up at the textured ceiling. Now that she's alone, she has no idea what to do with herself. Obviously getting straight to work with Raleigh is out of the question but that doesn't mean she cant try to get started. Pulling out her song journal, she stares at a blank page and laughs because if she doesn't laugh, she might cry. To say she's overwhelmed would he an understatement, and if she hadn't signed a contract, she might be calling her mom to come pick her up, proving to be a failure once again. At least their's a binding piece of paper to keep her from quitting this time. Maybe a walk on the beach is what she needs to pull herself together.

It's a typical June day, warm and sunny but not scorchingly hot, and a light breeze brings gentle waves rolling ashore, not quite reaching the hem of her rolled up jeans as Aria dips her toes in. She closes her eyes, taking in the smell of the salty sea air. The only sounds to be heard on the deserted stretch of private beach are the water crashing against the sand and some seagulls chattering in the distance. If not quite inspiration yet, the ocean is at least bringing a sense of calm, an escape she'll have when she needs it.

Aria wades around, walks up and down the oceanfront a few times before deciding she should probably go face reality. That or at least go get some food since her stomach is grumbling, and it's likely well past lunch time. She meanders to the kitchen and opens up the refrigerator, delighted to see its been fully stocked, and settles on some sandwich fixings.

"Ahh!" She let's out a startled yelp as she whirls around to place her items on the kitchen island only to be stopped short as she crashes into a tall figure.

"Easy there, Chiquita," Raleigh grasps Aria's arms to steady her. "You might want to watch where you're going."

Momentarily mesmerized by his firm grip and the sparkle in his eyes, Aria shakes free and comes to her senses. She's too annoyed at the moment to be intimidated by his star status or won over by his charms. "You could clearly see me here and anticipate where I'd be headed. And my name is Aria." She plunks the food down on the counter with a thud for emphasis.

"But you're so small." Raleigh pats her on the head.

There's a time and a place for cutesy nicknames, but this is so not it. "Again, my name is Aria, and as your colleague, I ask you to refer to me by my given name." She should stop there but she can't help herself. "And for your information, I'm average height."

Raleigh shrugs. "Well you're still shorter than me...Anyway, what's for breakfast? I'm famished."

Aria rolls her eyes with a huff, already mid preparation. "I'm making myself a sandwich for lunch. What you decide to make yourself isn't really my concern."

Raleigh chuckles. "You're feistier than I thought. I like it."

Her cheeks are burning and she lies to herself that it's all out of anger. Without another word she finishes up and scurries upstairs to eat and stew in her room in peace. Raleigh Carrera won't get the best of her today. At least not that she'll let him see.

#playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #raleigh x mc #raleigh carrera #platinum #my fic

29 notes · View notes

iswateredibletho · 5 years

Text

How would the tf2 mercs wrap gifts?

To anyone who still has trouble getting into the holiday spirit or calming down from the stress around holidays (like me), I present:

the mercenaries gift wrapping headcanons!

Scout

He's bad at wrapping, he gets his fingers tangled in tape, paper is crumpled in multiple places. It's done, it's finally done. Realizes that he left the price tag on. Tears away the paper again, removes the tag, slaps a bow on it. Throws it in a gift bag and calls it a day.

He's got a regular paper gift bag, he didn't have anything particular in mind when he went to pick it, but he found something that he personally liked and thought was nice to look at, one day will just buy a plain paper bag and decorate it himself.

Uses no ribbon.

Gift is accompanied by a really neat completely hand drawn card that he spent hours making and got everyone on the team to sign.

Soldier

Uses too much tape, somehow manages to wrap it. He often uses not enough paper which results in a bald spot where the paper is missing. He repairs it but the pattern is mismatched. There's so much tape wrapped around it that it'll be impossible to open for anyone. He's proud.

Steals borrows wrapping paper from Engie and Pyro, regular plastic duck tape, sometimes uses silver tape when he runs out.

Probably no ribbon. Slaps on one of those pre-made shiny bows if he's feeling fancy!

No name tags, just writes peoples names straight on the wrapping paper in his crooked handwriting. Slides little sweets and Christmas cookies along with gifts.

Sniper

He doesn't find particular enjoyment in the process, but he gets it done quickly and for the most part efficiently.

Uses brown Kraft paper. He likes things simple.

Uses no glue and ties natural twine 2 to 4 times around it to hold the paper in place, somehow it works out for him.

Sometimes he ties a little pine twig or other evergreen into the twine bow which adds a really homey touch to his gifts. Doesn't use name tags, he just hands the gift over to the person directly and watches them open it. Doesn't usually do cards but when he does it's always something wacky he found in a souvenir store while travelling and found it funny, so he had to get it and now you have to see it too.

Engineer

Has extremely precise measurement and folds. Never wastes wrapping paper. Never has a single crook or imperfection on the finished gift, looks like a machine did it. He sometimes plays around with elaborate ways to wrap gifts, like wrapping diagonally, combining multiple wrapping papers together etc. Always puts items in a box before wrapping them. Uses paper cutter, never scissors. This man is a gift wrapping god.

Classic wrapping paper with geometric and cheesy holiday patterns of no more than 3 colors. Either uses glue or some sort of advanced origami magic because his wrapping holds together perfectly, and there's never any tape.

Uses classic fabric ribbon to finish off everything. Plays around with the placement, tying it around the corners, diagonally, etc. Gets help with tying the bows from Demo.

Ponders adding name tags because he doesn't want to break the visual composition of his master work. Will hand you your gift with a mug of hot cocoa with cream and a big smile.

Demoman

Demo always wraps gifts straight on without any box, even if it's things like clothes or odd shaped items. He somehow manages to wrap them well on a first try!

Wrapping paper with pressed pattern texture, very pretty and fun to run your hands over. Nobody knows where he got it from, and he seems to have an unlimited supply of it. Uses washi tape and wraps it around the gift as a finishing touch instead of ribbon.

Rarely uses ribbon, but when he does, he hand-ties the pettiest bows.

Expect cutesy colorful name tags. If he gave you a Christmas sweater he's not going to leave you alone until you wear it. Will give long warm hugs that smell like Christmas spices and a hint of eggnog.

Medic

Puts item in a small box then puts that box inside a box then puts it all inside a bigger box, then wraps. Masterful folds and clean cut edges, similar to Engie. Doesn't go crazy inventive with the ways of wrapping, sticks to the simple folding patterns. Indulgent scissor glider.

His wrapping paper has simplistic geometric patterns of 2 colors. He uses that really nice matte scotch tape and places it tastefully without using too much of it

Uses excessive lengths of that shiny thin curly ribbon, plain name tags.

Don't mind the occasional little splatters of blood and bird feathers that might make their way onto the wrapped gifts, he really tries. Sings holiday carols loudly and encourages everyone to join.

Heavy

As of wrapping, he manages. I's not as neatly done as Engie or Medic, but he manages to make it look well-thought-out. Clean folds. Uses paper tape.

Uses dense tissue paper in earthy tones. Occasionally borrows wrapping paper from Medic.

No ribbon.

Gifts have little heartfelt written notes in them. Gifts smell nice, like old wood, herbal tea and beeswax. Heavy gives tasteful minimalist typography cards to everyone. Will talk about his favourite holiday themed literature & plays to whoever shows interest.

Pyro

Uses too much paper so theres a lot of wobbly folds around the wrapping. Wraps gifts boxless. Wraps multiple small gifts individually, they get scattered everywhere, decides to put them in a small bag and adds some colorful shredded filler to top it off. Loves scissor gliding but does it very clumsily.

Wrapping paper with crazy and cluttered patterns on it, with childish motives like cartoons and animals, colorful, will bring a smile to your face just by looking at it

Gets tangled in ribbon and usually decides not to add it. Decorates name tags with stickers!

Gifts are accompanied by small handmade candle holders (decorated with macaroni art, pompoms, glitter!). Gifts are confetti bombs and card may or may not be a glitter bomb, also hand drawn!!

Spy

It's not that he doesn't care, he's a perfectionist and wants things done right, handled by the right people. So he usually pays someone at the store to wrap his gifts for him. Will come to Engie for help if he's running out of time/options, but he'll bring his own paper, and he'll have annoying questions and prompts the entire time. He just wants it to be perfect he's stress on two legs ok.

Solid color wrapping paper that somehow feels expensive, really sturdy and nice to the touch, sometimes with minimal patterns like gold flakes.

Fancy singular ornament placed on top (think pre-tied fancy bow with excess stuff, like charms attached to it).

His gifts smell nice, like an expensive cologne and exotic spices. Doesn't give cards but accompanies his gifts with a very warm speech wishing you a happy holiday and shares long meaningful eye contact.

// I really wanted to request this prompt on a writing blog but I just couldn't decide which one, and I already had so many ideas so I just decided to write some myself. Feel free to add your own stuff/do your own takes on this, I would love to see them!

I wish you all wonderful holidays!

#tf2 headcanon #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demo #tf2 engie #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 #headcanons #team fortress 2 #tf2 x reader #(or just amongst each other its really free to interpret)#smissmas

340 notes · View notes

nightwitchwriter · 4 years

Text

Christmas Chapter

To those that have been reading my story, I apologized for being so late with my recent works. I managed to finish the other two on Christmas and this one before New Years. So, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Nick’s POV

I walked into the kitchen to be greeted by a giant basket filled with pears and a box filled with pear based foods, like pie, cobbler, juice, even jelly beans, which Molly was stuffing herself with.

“Where did the pears come from?”

“Faye bought them!” Molly, mouth stuffed of jelly beans

“She did?”

“Both her and her father.” mom, who came from the next room. “Molly, leave some for the rest of us.”

I stared at the packages, uncertain about its products.

“Why pears?”

“Why don’t you ask?” mom asked playfully before walking into the kitchen.

The next day, I went to the Black Cat Cafe, carrying a bag. When I walked in, it was semi-busy, with many of the tables full.

“Hello Nick.” Mrs. McCalmont, from behind the counter.

“Hi, Mrs. McCalmont. Is Wil home?”

“No, she’s helping me with a delivery. Is something wrong?”

“Uh, no, um, here.” I handed her a bag of apples. “Mom says thanks for the pears.”

“Oh your welcome. Thank you.”

As she took the apples, I struggled to ask my question, even though it may sound rude.

“Uh, what are the pears for?”

“For the 12 Days of Christmas!” Faye jumped from behind the counter, surprising me.

“12 days of Christmas? As in the song?” I questioned “So, in the place of Christmas?”

“Oh no we celebrate Christmas. Think of it as a Christmas tradition. It gets everyone in the Christmas spirit.”

“Does everyone on Arcanos do it?” Looking around, making sure no one heard me.

“You can talk about Arcanos. There’s no rule about it not talking about it. Watch. ARCANOS!”

Everyone in the cafe turned to look at us.

“Faye, stop that.” scolded Mrs. McCalmont. “If it makes you feel better, we can go into the kitchen?”

I nodded and followed them into the cafe kitchen, where I saw stuff moving by itself. The food was cooking and wrapping themselves. I saw tiny fairies flying around the kitchen as well as multiple ovens and stoves, six at least. I could smell bread baking, chocolate melting and meat roasting.

“Wow.” I looked at the whole room in amazement. One of the fairies came up to him and landed on his shoulder. She looked at him curiously.

“I hope the fairies aren’t a health code violation.” I joked

“Those aren’t fairies. They’re pixies.” explained Faye “Fairies are much bigger.”

“I see.” I looked back at the kitchen. “It’s like Merlin’s spell from the Sword in the Stone.”

“It's something similar.” Mrs. McCalmont answered, putting the apples in the center table. “It makes work a bit easier.”

“So how does the 12 days of Christmas work?”

“Well, like the song, it lasts for 12 days, from the 12th to the 24th. For each day of Christmas, we gift that theme of the day. Like, a partridge in a pear tree.” she explained

“So, like you give out pear based presents?”

“Exactly. When I married my husband, we carried the tradition to his family, then decided to use it for the cafe as well.”

“Wow. So, if yesterday was pears, then today would be-”

“Doves!” exclaimed Faye

“Doves? Like turtle doves?”

“Uh-huh. Last year, my aunt gave me actual turtle doves.” she bragged

“Really?”

“No, she didn’t. Don’t tease him like that, or you won’t get any presents from Santa.” Mrs. McCalmont scolded

I chuckled to myself. Felicity is the same age as Faye, but doesn’t believe in Santa anymore. “You still believe in Santa?”

“Of course I do. Why should I not?”

“Because your getting older.”

“These pixies are real.” she pointed out. “So why shouldn’t Santa?”

She had me there. I glared at the pixie on my shoulder giggling at me.

“So for the second day, what should I give?”

“Why? You want to give my sister a gift?” Faye grinned “On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…”

“What? No! I just saw Wil give something to Maddy today and yesterday. So, I was wondering, since its Christmas season.” For some reason, my cheeks were getting warm. Am I blushing? Why am I blushing?! Why does

“So what should I give her? And Maddy?”

“Well, the most common gifts would be turtle candies, dove chocolates, dove products or ornaments.” answered Mrs. McCalmont.

“That’s it?”

“Well, unless you have enough money to get her actual turtle doves…” she smirked “Oh, speaking of which…”

She went to the fridge and took out a paper bag. She gave it to me and I looked inside to see individually wrapped chocolate turtles inside.

“No one in your family is allergic to pecans right?” she gently asked

Christmas may be the time of generosity, but this is surprisingly generous.

Will’s POV

For the past couple of days, I’ve been getting presents. Not that it’s a bad thing. It’s Christmas season of course, but…

“Maybe you have your own Santa Claus?” questioned Maddy

We were walking through the downtown area of the town, in Arcanos. Like in Harry Potter, many of the lights and lighted ornaments were floating in mid-air.

I’ve been getting 12 days of christmas presents, but they aren’t from anyone I know. Why? Because I’ve been finding them, somehow in my locker. The same happened with Maddy, but the gifts were different.

On the 3rd day, she got 3 hen and chicks succulent plants, while I got French perfume. 4th day. She had a birdhouse, feeder, braille book and birdseed ornaments delivered to her house. I got cell phone accessories, including a diy phone case. 5th day. Five donuts were at Maddy’s desk. I got 5 rings, two hoops and a ring. 6th day. She got a recipe for eggnog, while I got chocolate creme eggs. By the 6th day, enough was enough.

“Like a Secret Santa? No way. Who would want to be secret Santas with me?” I questioned her

“Speaking of which, does Santa really exist in Arcanos?” she asked

“In a manner of speaking, yes. He’s more of a spirit now, than an actual person.”

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

“And you know those snow globes from the movie Rise of the Guardians? There’s actual snow globes like them?”

“Really? That’s so cool!” Maddy thought for a minute. “So you really don’t know who’s been giving you those gifts?”

“I have an idea.”

“Nick?”

And this is why she is my best friend.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Remember that bet we made on my birthday? He’s trying to romance me, like he does for Heather. I saw him giving her an “early” Christmas present. A plush reindeer.”

“So you aren’t upset that he’s courting you, even though he's dating Heather?”

“Not really. It’s not so bad.” I winked at her. “Plus, we're getting free stuff out of it right?”

“Hm. Good point. But are you going to get him something?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I got some ideas.” I grinned evilly

“Ooh, can I help? He gave me stuff too.” Maddy volunteered. I grinned.

“Hmmm, fair enough, alright. Come on, let’s come up with some ideas.”

On the 7th day, which was for swans, I left something in Nick’s locker, before quickly heading in the direction of mine. I turned the corner and waited until Nick came. Maddy stood next to me. After a few minutes, Nick came in with his group of friends.

“Is he here yet?”

“Yeah. Shh!”

We, well I, watched as Nick opened his locker, and a giant, white inflatable pool swan blew up in his locker. I used big magic to make it bigger. It bursted the door opened, surprising them and everyone else in the hallway. It kept growing and nearly filled the whole hallway. And here’s the best part. It fell right on top of Nick. I could barely contain myself.

“What happened?”

“It fell on top of him.”

Maddy started to chuckle too.

“Come on, let’s go.”

We hurried away to our lockers, then classes before anyone noticed.

Nick’s POV

I. Am going. To kill. Her. I don’t care what type of magic she used, I know she put that stupid swan in my locker. I even got in trouble with it. Twice! It made me late for class, since it took 15 minutes to deflate it.

What the hell?

I was trying to be nice and give her presents, and Maddy too, not because of that stupid bet, because its Christmas! Aren’t you supposed to give presents to each other on Christmas?

Fine. If she wants to be naughty, I’ll show her naughty. Ugh. That did not sound right.

Later that day, I watched Wil as she got closer to her locker.

“Uh, Nick?” I turned around to see Dylan. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh!”

I motioned him over, and we watched as Wil opened her locker and then- boof!

A small explosion of black power and black feathers covered Wil and some parts of Maddy!

“Wh-what the?”

“What happened?” asked Maddy

Me and Dylan quickly went behind the wall before we were spotted. We could barely contain our laughter.

“Holy Shit!” laughed Dylan

“How’s that for a black swan?”

“Are you out of your mind? You just pranked the Wicked Witch of Willow High.”

“I know. Just a little payback.” I turned to look at him. “Want to help me out with the next one?”

“Oh heck yes.”

The next few days continued as followed: on the 8th day, Wil got pelted with milk balloons, while Nick smelled like camebre cheese, after finding them in his pockets every five minutes. The 9th day, Nick’s locker was filled with ballet items, while Wil was scared by red dancing shoes. The 10th day, both found frogs and toads in their personal items. Wil in her book bag, Nick in his pants while in the bathroom. On the 11th day, Wil was scared by a sudden piercing from a recorder while in the bathroom, and the same goes for Nick while answering his phone. On the 12th day, Wil was woken by the sound of drums from metal rock, while Nick was kept up all night because of it.

Wil’s POV

“That’s it! No more pranks!” scolded Mom. I was keeping the pranks on Nick a secret from her, but she managed to find out. “It’s Christmas Eve! Now make up and give him a present as an apology and a sign of actual good will.”

“But mom,...” I didn’t want to, but… I really don’t want to.

“Do it or no Christmas.” threatened my dad

I groaned. Missing Christmas is one of the worst things that can happen to anyone. I know there are thousands of people who have no choice but to miss Christmas, but its not fair for me either.

“At least call a truce for Christmas.”

I sighed. “All right. No more pranks.”

“And give him a present he’ll like, nothing cheap!”

The night before Christmas, and all through the night. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. And it was freaking cold! I got Nick’s stupid present, but I couldn’t give it to him at school. I wanted to drop it off at his house and that’ll be it, but my parents would not accept it. Dad even threatened to call them on Christmas, just to make sure I gave him the present. So, I’m here on my broom, at his house, at night, in the freezing cold! I clutched the present closer to my chest, debating whether this a good or bad idea. Groaning, I lowered myself towards his room window.

Also, if you all are wondering how I knew where Nick’s home or even his room is, thank Dalia, due to her mischief.

I knocked on the window with the curtains closed.

“Nick!” I quietly yelled, to prevent anyone seeing me.

I didn’t hear any movement, but the lights were on.

“Nick!”

Nothing. I reached into my pocket, and took out a hag stone. A hag stone is a stone that has a natural hole inside them. Depending on how or where the stones were formed, by looking through the holes, you could see various things. The one I have is similar to the one in Coraline. So think of the had stone as x-ray vision goggles.

I looked through it and could see past the house walls. I saw Nick in his bed, sleeping.

I knocked on the window again.

“Nick!”

Seeing that he wasn’t waking up, I tapped the window lock twice.

“Tick tock. Break the lock.”

The window unlocked and opened itself, and I climbed in.

His room is surprisingly clean, for a high school boy. I saw him in his bed and walked over to wake him. His snoring is as loud as a high school boy. I shook him as hard as I could.

“Nick! Nick! Niiiccckkkk!”

After some groans, Nick managed to slowly open his eyes. His eyes widened quickly when he saw that I was in his room.

“Holy freaking crap!” he yelled as he scrambled away from me. I just smiled.

“Merry Christmas!” I smirked

“What are you doing in my house?! How’d you get into my house?!”

“Magic. Duh.”

“How’d you even know where I live?”

“Dalia. Duh. Anymore questions?”

He was silent for a moment, before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Come outside.”

“It is freezing outside. And it’s Christmas Eve. If this is another prank, can it wait until morning?”

“It’s not a prank. My mom wants us to call a truce for Christmas, so truce?” I ask while holding out my hand.

Nick looked at my hand, suspicious and hesitating for a bit, before taking my hand.

“Fine, truce.”

“Good. Now come outside. I have a present for you.”

A few minutes later, we were both outside in the cold. After explaining that I got him a gift, it turns out he got me one too. Then we both stood there awkwardly for the next few minutes.

“So, want to open them now?” Nick asked

“Ehhh, it kind of goes against my tradition of opening presents before Christmas. You?”

“Not my tradition.”

He quickly went to open his present.

“Woah, a toy motorcycle. Cool.”

“Press the button.”

He looked confused.

I took the toy, pushed the button, then put it on the street and stepped back. Moments later, it quickly grew in size to a rideable size. The look on Nick’s face shows that I gave him the right gift.

“I heard from Felicity that you got your motorcycle license, so I got you this.”

Remember the boat from Ponyo? There’s a toy company in Arcanos that makes toys inspired by the film. Cost a lot, but not as much as a regular motorcycle.

“What do you think?”

The next thing I knew, he was hugging me. An actual, no hesitation hug.

“Thanks.” he whispered

Turns out, he was saving money for a motorcycle, but wasn’t close yet. With this, he doesn’t have to save anymore. But for some reason, he now didn’t want to give me my present. He tried to take it back, but after some tugging, I won. I decided to leave before he tries to take it again, but before I did, I showed him how to make it small again. Before I flew away, I watched Nick go back inside and shut the window I opened.

The next day, on Christmas, I opened Nick’s present first. It was a ugly Christmas sweater, with a witch in a Santa dress and hat, on a broom, with a bag of presents behind her, flying through the night sky. A ugly Christmas sweater that's witch themed. After opening the rest of my presents, it was the only thing I didn’t have anything to say about. But, I wore it on the first day back at school.

#finally #merry christmas #happy new year

20 notes · View notes

oneyanderegirl · 4 years

Text

Desire

Genre: One-shot, Hurt/Comfort, Angst Rating: T Sasuhina Month 2020 Theme Day 7 (Desire)

A/N: I decided to skipped over Day 6. I swear I feel like every time I write, it gets longer and longer lol. Part of my one-shot series for Sasuhina Month 2020. You can read the other parts by going on my profile and clicking the fanfiction tab. They’re not written in a particular order since they are one-shots that are supposed to work as stand-alones, but there are hints here and there about when and where things take place. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mentions of death.

@sasuhinamonth (in case this doesn’t show up in the tags)

It began on a whim.

Sasuke did not anticipate becoming this involved in her life.

The woman named Hinata Hyuga was an odd mystery in his eyes.

They had known each other since childhood due to being born from the two biggest clans in Konoha. The Uchihas and Hyugas were famous for their rivalry as well as their prowess. He remembered attending several meetings with his family to socialize and discuss clan issues with the other prominent ones, including their rivals of course.

The adults had called it parties.

He called it boring.

But those days had long been over. The Uchihas had eventually died in cold blood because of the man known as Itachi Uchiha. He was one of the strongest shinobi to have ever lived in this world.

He was also Sasuke’s older brother.

Even that seemed like a far away memory now. Itachi was already dead. Sasuke had finally avenged his clan. Or that was what he had thought before he had found out the real reasoning behind his brother’s actions. The demise of the Uchiha clan was due to Konoha itself; they had been afraid of the Uchiha’s growing influence within the village and afraid of an uprising to overthrow the system in place. They had ordered Itachi to nip it before anything could take place. They had forced Itachi to kill his friends, lover, and even his own flesh and blood.

Yet despite the horror that his brother was forced to go through, Itachi’s last wish was for Sasuke to continue to protect the very village that had essentially killed the Uchiha.

He never understood why his brother would still want to protect the village after what they had done to their clan. It had left Sasuke with more questions than answers. He could never tell what his brother was thinking. It was something that Sasuke was still trying to figure out. It was why he had decided to leave Konoha to travel in the first place.

He needed time to think.

He needed time to ponder. There were too many things to do, too many things to figure out. He couldn’t stay in the village. He had to leave. He had to in order to find the answers he needed.

So Sasuke travelled.

He travelled wherever the wind blew. Whether it was far or near, he would go. He would explore and learn about the different cultures that existed. He had developed a habit of recording what he saw and what he learned. It had almost become a ritual at this point. Sasuke didn’t mind though, rather he found it calming and fulfilling to do so. It gave him a purpose.

A hawk landed on a rock where Sasuke was currently sitting. The bird ruffled its brown feathers before dropping an envelope in front of him. He reached into his brown bag to grab a piece of dried fish and tossed it to the bird as a reward for a successful delivery. Sasuke watched the hawk squawk in joy as he eagerly devoured the food before looking at the letter he had just delivered to him.

The letter was wrapped neatly in a lavender colored envelope with his name written nicely in the front. There was also a blue paper charm that contained pressed petals from a sunflower taped next on top of the envelope. Sasuke was quite perplexed by the gift as he was not expecting anything from her.

“ Sora, she’s quite persistent isn’t she?” He asked the hawk.

Of course, the hawk was much too busy enjoying his snack to respond.

Hinata Hyuga.

She was the heiress to the Hyuga clan, famous for her highly developed Byakugan. Although they had attended the same academy and became shinobi around the same time, the two of them were mostly strangers towards one another. His most prominent memory of her was her famously large crush on his best friend during their genin days. Other than that, Sasuke could not really recall much about the woman other than her heritage.

Yet for some reason, ever since the War had ended, she had constantly and desperately tried to seek him out.

He remembered that night when he had decided to visit Naruto to catch up about life and his travels, he had spotted her quietly watching them. At first, Sasuke had thought that it was his best friend who she had wanted to see, but then he noticed that she had kept staring at him instead. When he had finally finished talking with Naruto and started to leave, she had tried to follow him.

“ I...know this is a selfish request of mine, but...i-if it’s okay with you...I would like to see you again,” She asked between each breath.

Hinata slowly looked at the man towering before her. His cool expression gave away no emotion. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She wondered if it was a mistake to ask him.

“ What good will that do? We aren’t friends, Hyuga. I have no interest in doing so either. I have my own things that I have to do. If you want to grieve then do so at your own expense. Don’t come to me to do it,”

“ Please...Please, Sasuke-kun,” She whispered.

She begged him.

She begged as tears started falling from her tired eyes.

But Sasuke was already gone.

He quickly buried away the letter and the paper charm into his bag before starting to eat.

Sasuke was not stupid. He knew why she had seeked him out. It was like that when he had been hospitalized as well. She had seeked him over there too.

“ If you’re going to come in, then just do it already, it’s already late.”

Sasuke had felt a presence in front of his door. Surprised at who the person was behind the door, he made it known that he could tell she was there. He watched as Hinata slowly came into the room. He could make out the scrapes and bruises that had formed on her body from the War. What stood out the most though were her silvery eyes.

They held no light within them.

“ I never expected you, of all people, would come and visit.” He said.

His words held no malice nor its usual coldness. Sasuke felt tired after all. The War had just ended only a few days prior, yet his mind was still not at peace. He watched the woman sit on the floor and bury herself into her hands and knees. Perhaps she too was tired.

Tired of war.

Tired of death.

Tired of the corrupt world that existed.

Tired of living.

It didn’t matter though because in his eyes, Sasuke felt exhausted. He questioned the wish that his brother had left behind. Itachi had suffered due to Konoha, yet it was his dying wish for Sasuke to continue to protect it. Why? He couldn’t understand.

“D-do you think I’m being s-silly right now?” She suddenly asked.

Sasuke didn’t know what to say, so he decided to stare out the window to look at the moon. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, brighter than any of the stars. Yet despite the beauty it held, he could only think of how dull and lifeless the moon looked as it stood alone by itself in the vast darkness.

“ A-ah...Sorry. I know I sound a little strange right now. I apologize for disturbing you. I just had a lot on my mind lately. I’m sure you’ve heard that my...cousin had died.” Hinata tried to explain.

“ I know. I heard.”

Neji Hyuga.

A Branch member of the Hyuga clan. He was regarded as a prodigy, much like himself, during their academy days. Although he never did get to properly fight him, Sasuke respected the man. Even though he was of a lower class, Neji had worked hard to make himself strong. He was probably the strongest Hyuga of their generation. When Sasuke learned of his death, he felt that it was a shame the Hyuga never received the proper chance to prove himself. “ How do you deal with the pain of losing a loved one?” She finally asked.

Sasuke kept staring out the window for what felt like an eternity before turning to face her. Neji had died protecting the woman he considered a sister in a way similar to how Itachi had tried to protect Sasuke. Though the methods they had taken in doing so were different, ultimately, they both had ended up dying in order to protect their most precious person. Though he could not understand why either of them had decided to make such a sacrifice, Sasuke knew one thing.

“ We move forward. We have to live. We have to strive to protect them. If we can’t protect their physical bodies, then the least we can do is protect their ideals. It doesn’t matter how much you cry or suffer, you have to live anyways. If you don’t, then it just means their deaths were in vain. Don’t waste the life they gave you.”

The words that he had spoken were more for himself than it was for her, but Hinata still looked surprised at his words. They weren’t words of sympathy or pity. There were no apologies nor were there empty condolences within the words he had spoken. They were truly his own thoughts.

Words that he held in his heart because Sasuke knew that no one else would ever understand him. They would never understand the pain that he had to go through, the pain that he was still going through. The pain of not just losing a loved one, but of losing someone that had loved you more than anyone else in the world. More than their friends, more than their lovers, they had sacrificed their own lives due to the love that the two had held for them. That was how important Sasuke and Hinata were to their older brothers.

Perhaps that was why she had started crying when he had said those words to her.

She had cried and cried until there were no tears left. When the last of her tears were wiped, she had started to leave. She bowed to him before turning towards the door.

Sasuke didn’t know why she had decided to come to him for advice, but he knew that she was going through the same emotions that he had gone through. The grief that Hinata was experiencing was something that he was all too familiar with. For the first time, he felt something other than grief and rage bubble up inside of him. Perhaps the War had worn his heart out, but watching her cry had, in some ways, reminded Sasuke of himself.

It had reminded him of the loneliness he had felt as he watched his clan members die.

It had reminded him of the helplessness he had felt as he watched his parents be murdered in cold blood. It had reminded him of the pain he had felt as he watched his brother, the last remaining family member, perish into the heavens.

An experience that no one should have to endure alone.

“ Hyuga,” He finally called out, surprising both Hinata and himself.

The moment her pale grey eyes met his dark ones, Sasuke felt a sense of mutual understanding between them. An unspoken connection that had formed from their shared pain. Sasuke didn’t know why, but he felt the desire to comfort her in that moment. It was irrational of him to do so, it just wasn’t in his nature, yet that was the only conclusion he could come to as he tried to make sense of this unfamiliar feeling forming in his heart.

“ You’re not silly for feeling what you feel. Remember that.”

The only response she gave was a small smile before leaving his room.

Yet it was a smile he would never forget.

It had all begun at that point.

The night after he had rejected Hinata’s desire to see him again, Sasuke kept thinking back to the hospital. He kept thinking back to the moment they had shared together. Her smile, her tears, her expressions, they kept preoccupying his mind. The emotions he had felt watching her as she reminded Sasuke of himself in his own grief was a strange experience. The desire to comfort her was odd. So out of this desire that he couldn’t get rid of, Sasuke had decided to allow her to write letters to him.

To his surprise, Hinata had graciously accepted.

She would write about once a week to him. Sometimes the envelopes felt very bulky. Other times, it would feel like there was no paper at all. Although Sasuke never wrote back, she still continued to write to him.

He never bothered to read them. When his hawk would fly by to drop the letters, Sasuke would just bury it in his backpack and forget about them. He was much too occupied with his own things to worry about hers. Still, she never stopped writing to him. It soon became a routine for them, she would write to him, he would shove it in his bag and continue on the day. He didn’t mind, she didn’t seem to mind either. So Sasuke left it at that.

But you could only travel alone for so long before the sensation of loneliness sinks in.

-----

One day, after almost a year of travelling alone, almost six months since Hinata had started writing to him, Sasuke suddenly felt a wave of loneliness hit him. It was a starless night with the moon hidden away, Sora had already flown into the forest to rest for the night while Sasuke laid in his sleeping bag trying to sleep. He was only halfway through slumber when he had woken up from a nightmare.

Nightmares were common for the Uchiha. He first started having them after watching his parents die. It was something that Sasuke had learned to get used to over the years.

But it was especially bad tonight.

Knowing he couldn’t sleep any more, Sasuke stared at the vast sky. The forest was eerily silent tonight. Not a sound could be heard. Even the wind itself was still. The darkness felt like a black void waiting to ensnare him. All he could see was a vast abyss of nothingness.

There were no stars.

The moon had disappeared.

There was no light.

It was then that the thought finally hit him.

Sasuke was truly alone.

When was the last time he had talked to Naruto? When was the last time he had a decent conversation with his friend? When was the last time he had seen him in person?

When was the last time Sasuke interacted with someone?

He felt the palms of his hands become sticky with sweat. His heart rate had jumped up significantly from his own panicked thoughts. His throat felt dry. His breathing became shallow as if there was no air left to breathe. He felt his body tremble with fear as if there was a monster hidden somewhere in the forest.

But there was no monster.

There was no one.

He was alone.

Sasuke couldn’t stand it anymore. He felt the need to leave. He had to leave. He had to do something, anything, to get this chilling feeling out of his mind. Grabbing his bag, he quickly opened it to get a drink of water to quench his thirst.

However, when he looked inside, he stopped.

Letters.

He had forgotten about the letters.

All his previous thoughts had vanished when he saw the piles of letters inside his bag. All of his attention had shifted to the letters Hinata had written to him. He had never bothered to read a single one. He was not interested.

But now, perhaps due to the discomfort and panic that he was feeling, Sasuke slowly reached into his bag for one. He chose one of the lavender envelopes with his name neatly on it. His fingers gently brushed against the surface, feeling each delicate stroke she had written so elegantly to ensure that he knew it was addressed for him.

Then he slowly opened it, careful not to rip off a part of the letter.

And he began reading.

He never realized how much she had written to him.

Some of the letters were as long as five pages, others were as short as one paragraph, but within each letter, Sasuke could tell that everything Hinata had written came genuinely from her heart. She wrote to him about various things. From trivial things, such as what she had for lunch that day, to much deeper topics such as the regrets she had felt after her cousin had died, she wrote about them all.

Sasuke faithfully read through each one, making sure not a word was missed. He wasn’t sure why Hinata had written so much, but he found her words comforting in a way. It felt as if he was getting to know her little by little through each letter. Before he knew it, the panic he had experienced earlier had already dissipated along with the isolation that he had felt. The only thing left over was a sense of tranquility. A new profound peace that he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Perhaps the reason why he had helped her that night in the hospital and why he had decided to let her write to him wasn’t because he had wanted to comfort her. Rather, it may have been because deep within his heart, he knew that the one who had wanted to be comforted was himself.

After reading about half the letters, Sasuke finally felt exhaustion hit him. He decided he would finish reading them in the morning, so he neatly placed each one back into his bag before laying back down in his sleeping bag. The moment he laid down, he felt sleepy. A tiredness that felt relaxing rather than full of distress. And as Sasuke finally fell asleep, a new unfamiliar emotion started to grow in his heart.

It was desire.

A desire to see Hinata again.

#sasuhina #sasuhinamonth2020 #sasuhina month #shmonth2020 #personal #writing #AL #fanfiction #fanfics

47 notes · View notes

angelicthor · 5 years

Text

billion dollar man - part 12

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: after mounting bills and debt cause you to look at alternative means of making money, you’re thrown into a whole different kind of life when one of the most famous billionaires on the block offers to be your sugar daddy, of course in exchange for a different from of payment. non-superhero au.

warnings/genre: +18 only, sugarbaby/daddy relationship, smut: exhibitionism, dom!tony, daddy kink, possessive/jealous sex, spanking, slight fluff, slight angst, long chapter (7k words)

masterlist | billion dollar man masterlist

a/n: a brand new part holy shit, i never thought i’d see the day! please, i beg, please can i have feedback?

The gift box with GRAFF written across it sat on the countertop in the bathroom as you marvelled at the spectacular necklace that twinkled under the fluorescent lights, casting reflections of rainbows about the room. You gingerly lifted the necklace from the box and clasped it around your neck, the band of diamonds surrounding your throat whilst the fringe of pear-shaped diamonds dripped from it, resting against your décolletage and grazing the top of your breasts.

Your breathing stammered as you locked eyes on your reflection, the sheer wealth wrapped around your neck, noticing the way the fringe of the necklace was mirrored in the fringing that hung in around the front and the back of the corset. Tony had never seen your outfit for Nat’s birthday party – you wanting to savour the look on his face when he saw you in it for the first time – and yet he had gifted you with a necklace that morning which perfectly match your ensemble. With one last coat of lipstick, you pulled the faux fur coat over your shoulders and buttoned it up, concealing your outfit from Tony’s view as you stepped out the bathroom.

In the bedroom, Tony was attempting and failing to fasten the white tie around his neck and with and amused smirk you made your way over to help him, fingers deftly wrapping the ivory silk into a perfect bow.

“You know, for someone who builds technological marvels with his own two hands, you are terrible with ties.”

“Maybe I just like you doing it for me,” Tony quipped with a grin as he watched you concentrate on your task.

Once you were finished neither of you moved away, content to just stay wrapped up in each other, your hands resting on his chest as his slip up the backs of your thighs, slowly leaning in to press his lips to yours.

You placed your hand over his mouth to stop him, watching with a sly grin as he jumped in surprise at your touch, brows furrowing in question as to why on earth you would stop him from kissing him.

“You aren’t ruining my lipstick before we even get there, mister.”

You turned on your heel, smug smirk still in place as Tony stood in the middle of the room dumbfounded at your refusal. Without even glancing at him, you gathered the small number of items you were taking, throwing them into your clutch and picked up Nat’s present from the table beside the bed, walking out the room and down the stairs without giving him a second glance.

“Tony come on; we can’t be late!”

“Seriously?” Tony muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he pulled on his tailcoat jacket and made his way down to join you.

All throughout the car ride to Nat’s party, you hadn’t let Tony touch you, and if the pout on his lips was anything to go by, the lack of attention was definitely getting to him, the thought sending a small thrill through you.

Your task of teasing Tony suddenly left your head as the car pulled closer to Nat’s birthday, your attention enraptured by the people milling the streets and the amount of detail she had put into it: at the front of the venue Nat had an entire replica of the original Moulin Rouge in Paris, complete with a working windmill adorned with lights, there was a red carpet leading to where her guests cars were pulling up, the show that was advertised on the banners that wrapped around the front of the building being for Nat’s birthday as if it was a cabaret act, her name literally spelled out in lights for all of New York to see.

You pulled your coat closer around your body as you excited the car, not wanting any of the many paparazzi that were standing on the street with flashing camera to catch a glimpse of what you wore underneath. Tony linked his arm through yours as you walked towards the venue, your breath hitching in your throat as you took in the heart shaped tunnel that was studded with huge bulbs reminiscent of old Hollywood that lead you towards where the party was being held.

The party itself took your breath away, to say that Nat had outdone herself was really an understatement: red, white, and black fabric draped from the chandelier at the centre of the ceiling outwards in a canopy, strings of lights separating the colours. There was a huge stage at one end of the room with cancan dancers and live singers performing and surrounding the dancefloor were numerous tables all decorated with centre pieces adorned with pearls and feathers that matched her theme perfectly. The room was bustling with people, most guests, some performers, some serving waiters but all them dressed accordingly, not a single person in attendance clashing the theme Nat had set.

You began to undo the buttons of your coat, Tony’s hands on your shoulders as he pulled the material from your body and handed it to the coat check clerk along with this own overcoat.

“Gotta give it to Romanoff, she really…knows… h-how - uh?”

Tony’s words died on his lips as he turned back to you, finally seeing what you had kept hidden from him, his mouth hanging open as his eyes greedily ravished your scantily clad form. What nerves you had at being in such a revealing outfit so public quickly vanished at Tony’s longing stare, a surge of confidence instilling in you as you basked in his unwavering attention.

You kept your glee masked, simply arching a brow in his direction as you feigned innocence as to why he was suddenly choking on his own words. “Are you ok Tony?” You asked with faux concern, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the smirk that was trying so desperately to pull at the corners of your lips.

You couldn’t deny, having the upper hand for once was something you were most definitely enjoying.

“You have got to be shitting me,” Tony grumbled under his breath before he closed the space between you with determined steps, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled your body flush against his, face buried in the crook of your neck as his lips pressed soft kisses against the curve of your throat.

You had to fight the urge to submit to his touch, willing your eyes to remain open and focused when all they wanted to do was flutter close, forcing your head to remain upright when all you desired was to tip it back and let him have his way with you right in the middle of Nat’s party.

“Babygirl, what exactly do you think you’re playing at?”

“It’s Nat’s birthday, gotta do what she asks,” you answered with a simple shrug, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Whatever she asks huh? Well I hope I get the same treatment on my birthday Princess.”

The sound of your name being called prevented you from answering, turning away from Tony’s smug grin just in time to catch Nat in your arms as she flung herself at you, squeezing your body to hers as she practically buzzed in excitement.

“You’re here!”

“Of course I am,” You giggled, her flushed cheeks and giddy expression indicating that she had probably had at least a couple glasses of champagne already. “Here, this is for you; Happy Birthday Nat.”

You handed Nat your present as Sam, Steve, and Bucky joined the three of you each greeting you with hugs and hellos, your fingers twiddling with nerves as Nat eagerly tore through the gift bag and wrapping paper and flicked through the pages you had decorated with pictures of Nat’s closest friends.

What if she thought it was childish?

What if she considered it to be cheap?

What if-

Tony wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head to silence your nagging thoughts as he watched Nat’s bottom lip tremble ever so slightly, adamantly trying to keep her emotions in check and he knew that your gift had touched her deeply.

Sam, Steve, and Bucky peered over her shoulders as she went over each and every page of the scrapbook, laughing at the ridiculousness of some of them, reminiscing the treasured memories of others, Sam pressing a kiss to her cheek, staring at her in adoration as they came across a charming photo of the two of them.

The page that Nat had stopped on was one of your favourites; one of the charity events you had all been attending had taken a rather different turn than you were expecting, a considerable group of you sneaking up to the roof of the hotel to throw an impromptu pool party. You think the photo had been taken by Rhodey and it had captured each of you in the frame with you and Nat at the centre, you had both pulled your dresses up to the tops of your thighs as you dangled your legs into the pool, leaning on each other for support as you roared with laughter – at what you can’t even remember – tears brimming in your eyes as you clutched at each other for support.

In the background you could see a very annoyed Sam chasing Bucky who was beginning to slip on the wet floor, his face frozen by the camera in a mix of fear and amusement, at the bar in the back sat Steve and Tony who were well past tipsy, rowdily belting out their rendition of Dancing Queen, not that they were getting the lyrics right in the slightest, they had been captured arms tossed around each other as their heads were tilted back to aid in their performance.

Nat timidly closed the book as if it were the most valuable thing she owned, fingers tracing over the cover as a few stray tears stained her cheeks which she quickly wiped away. Handing the book to Sam, Nat swiftly flung her arms around your neck in a bone-crushing hug, a few stray drops of hot tears marring the bare skin of your shoulder as she clutched at you, an embrace which you just as enthusiastically returned.

“Thank you,” She whispered into your neck, voice thick with emotion which only caused you to hold her tighter as relief flooded you.

“You’re welcome.”

“Alright, alright, let’s get this party started!” Sam yelled out, moving to wrap his arms around you and Nat as he led you both to the bar, Steve, Bucky, and Tony following behind you with a chuckle.

Drinks were soon poured, and inhibitions lowered as the six of you celebrated Nat’s birthday, conversation and laughter flowing between you quicker than the champagne. Time seemed to pass in a blur as the night went on, the many forms of entertainment and general aesthetic of the party that Nat had put together keeping the spirits so high that no one even bothered to check the time, the energetic atmosphere keeping everyone so high they never wanted it to end.

You got to meet more of Nat’s – and everyone else’s – friends outside of their tight-knit group: Thor Odinson who was an actual prince from a small country in Scandinavia called Asgard, Bruce Banner who was a brilliant scientist who’s intelligence reviled Tony’s, Hope Van Dyne – the heiress to Pym Industries and her boyfriend Scott. You even got to meet Steve’s girlfriend, the infamous socialite Sharon Carter.

You teased Tony every opportunity that presented itself, and given where you were there were a lot; shooting him sultry stares over the rim of your glass, brushing against him every time you passed him by, swaying your hips more than usual when you walked away from him, knowing his eyes were burning into you with every step you took.

You almost felt bad, you hadn’t even kissed him yet, but you knew what would come after the party was done would be well worth it.

The glass in your hand was empty and so you waited at the bar for a refill when Bucky sauntered over to you, a cocky grin plastered on his face. You already knew what was coming, at this point in your friendship you were well accustomed to his incessant flirting and you arched a brow at him as you waited for him to deliver his first no-doubt cheesy pick-up line.

“Hey doll,” He purred as he failed to stifle his grin.

“James.”

“So, is it hot in here is it just you?”

He leant forward as he spoke, leaving barely a breath between you, mischief glimmering in his eyes as he wiggled his brows at you causing you to let out a snort, playfully pushing him away with a roll of your eyes as you picked up your drink from the bar.

“You’re terrible Buck, you know that?” You taunted, walking away from him and back to Tony.

Bucky was quick to sling his arm over your shoulder as you both walked back to your table, flashing you a cocky grin as he winked at you: “Darlin’ you have no idea.”

You parted as you went to your respective sits, yours next to Tony and his next to Steve, re-joining the conversation with your friends, completely unaware of the way Tony’s gaze was flittering between you and Bucky, the slight crease between his brows the only indication something was amiss.

The sound of Labelle performing Lady Marmalade suddenly blasted through the speakers, filling the venue with Patti LaBelle’s soulful voice and Natasha wasted no time in flying from her seat on Sam’s lap with a ridiculously eager expression on her face as she hauled you from your chair and dragged you up to the stage.

Realising what she was trying to get you to do, you began to try and free your arm, digging your heels in to the ground to stop her from dragging you onto the stage but NAt was a lot stronger than she appeared and easily pulled you onto the platform, much to your mortification.

Nat grabbed one of the feather boa’s from around one of the waitresses as she passed and wrapped it round your waist, pulling your hips flush against hers as she began to practically grind against you to the beat. Her guests began to take notice of the two of you, cheering you both on as your boys sat to the side practically beaming with glee.

Assholes.

Reluctantly you began to dance with Nat to the music, deeming it better than standing there awkwardly as you attempted to mimick her moves, gaining some semblance of confidence as the audience cheered on your impromptu show, the both of you rolling your hips, tilting your heads to the side as you ran your hands along your corset clad chests, dancing seductively across the stage.

Every movement you made caused the diamonds that fringed the bottom of your corset to sparkle brightly under the stage lights, Nat’s own outfit glistening like a disco ball as the pair of you captured the attention of everybody there, especially a certain billionaire.

Tony watched you with a darkened gaze, eyes hungrily drinking in every inch of you, every slight move you made, the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass, the way your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself to your dancing, being reminded all too much of the way he could make your body behave remarkably similar.

The song came to an end, you and Nat giggling uncontrollably as you took your bows, exiting the stage as everyone cheered and applauded your performance. Your cheeks were burning as you walked back to your table, sitting yourself on Tony’s lap and pressing a soft kiss to his lips which he quickly deepened, cupping the back of your neck with one hand as the other clutched at your thigh.

You pulled away panting when the need for air became too much, resting your forehead against his as you searched his eyes for answers for what exactly that was for but finding only the promise of more.

“I hope that dance was worth it babygirl, cause you are gonna be in so much trouble when we get home,” He murmured darkly, nipping at the skin of your throat causing you to jolt in his lap, his arms tightening around you to keep you steady.

“Do you promise?”

“You wanna be a bad girl, Kitten? Cause I’ll treat you like one.”

The night went on but neither you or Tony could keep your hands off each other, stroking your hands up his chest to gently tug at his hair at the base of his neck, his playing with the tops of your stockings, the both of you sharing chaste kisses but never letting it lead to anything more.

It was hours later until you were finally, finally, saying goodbye to everyone, including a very intoxicated Nat who Sam was desperately trying to lure home. Most of the guests had already bid goodbye to the birthday girl, Steve and Sharon had just left and Bucky was waiting for his car to pull up, standing beside you and Tony as you all watched Sam try to usher Nat into the car.

You laughed as she freed herself from Sam’s shepherding and flung herself at you, her body limp as she practically fell against you, slurring her words as she told you just how much she loved you. Bucky’s snort made you look up and you saw him videoing the whole thing on his phone, most likely to blackmail her with later - it was a rare occurrence for Natasha to get this drunk. In fact, you were certain you had never seen it before, but hey, it was her birthday after all.

“You know you two could help me,” Sam pointed out, exasperated at the lack of support he was getting from his friends.

“We could Wilson, but we don’t want to, this is by far the funnier option.”

“Screw you Barnes.”

Taking pity on Sam, you tried to lead Nat back to the car only getting so far before she decided she had something else to yell to the streets of Manhattan.

“You’re my best friend Y/N, you know that? My bestest bestest bestest bestest friend ever!”

“Yeah, I know Nat, now come on don’t you want to go to bed?”

“Bed? Oh! You know who’s good in bed – Sammy! Y/N, he has the biggest-”

“Ok that’s enough! Don’t embarrass Barnes and Stark babe,” Sam cut her off, picking her up bridal style and carrying her into the car as Nat swooned over how strong he was. You had a feeling she was going to regret this in the morning, especially with Bucky filming it all.

“Night guys,” Sam called out of the car window as the car pulled off into the road.

“Night Wilson,” Bucky cried out coyly, wiggling his fingers in a wave as Sam stuck his middle finger up in return. Bucky’s own car pulled up and he said his goodbyes to you and Tony, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand much to Tony’s chagrin and you could only laugh in response to his silly antics.

The journey back to Tony’s was mainly silent, he didn’t even look at you, keeping his face turned towards the window, the only contact between you being the hand that was gripping your thigh, thumb circling your skin through the sheer material of your stockings.

Tony remained quiet as you both entered his penthouse, leaving you in the hall to follow him as he moved about the place, shucking off his coat and jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbow before he tugged the bow tie free around his neck, leaving it to hang loosely around his neck as he undid the first few buttons on his shirt.

Not an inch of skin had been revealed to you and yet such a small adjustment was hotter than any strip tease could have possibly been, arousal blossoming in your core as you waited for him to say something – anything.

Pouring himself a glass of scotch, Tony collapsed on the sofa as he sipped at his drink, eyes locked on your form over the rim of the tumbler as you fidgeted on the spot, desperate for him to start whatever the night entailed.

“You’ve been teasing me all night babygirl: first by wearing this outfit, letting thw whole damn world see you like this, then you wouldn’t even let me touch you, then you let Barnes of all fucking people flirt with you right in front of my face and then to top it all off, you got up on that stage and let every person there see you move like that.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

Tony clicked his tongue in disapproval as his eyes raked over you: “I think you need to be punished, Beautiful.”

Leaning forward, Tony placed his glass on the coffee table and rested his arms on his legs as he appraised you, roughly rubbing a hand over his beard as he decided your fate.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen darlin’, your gonna take that pretty little outfit off - except for those damn heels - and then your gonna lay across my lap, ass up, and count your spankings like a good girl, ok?”

“Yes Daddy,” You whispered, throat dry as desire flooded your being.

Unclipping the feather from your hair you tossed it carelessly to the side before gripping the end of one of your silk covered fingers between your teeth and pulling your arm free of the material, repeating the action on the other hand and throwing the gloves at Tony whose eyes hardened at the gesture.

“Don’t push it Babygirl.”

Smiling coquettishly, you undid the straps on your garter that helped to hold your stockings up, pushing the belt down your hips and to the floor before beginning to slowly pull the lace ties that held your corset together undone, the pink satin slipping out of your hands as your bare chest was revealed to his lustful eyes.

Hooking your thumbs into the tops of your panties, you wiggled your hips as you pushed them down your legs, kicking them towards Tony when they stuck on your heel. You moved to unclasp the necklace, but Tony stopped you, ordering you to leave it on as he leant back on the sofa and patted his thigh to remind you where to place yourself.

You slowly lowered yourself across this lap, hands gripping the leather of the couch as Tony’s hand wandered from the backs of your thighs, fingertips lightly grazing the skin as you fought to keep as still as possible, he moved to squeeze one of your ass cheeks before continuing his path up your back, pulling your hair into a pony tail and wrapping it around his fist.

“Tell me the magic word babygirl,” Tony leaned over you, whispering in your ear as he broke character for the first time since you’d both come back to his apartment and you couldn’t prevent the smile that broke out at his concern.

“Jericho.”

“Good girl, promise to say it if it gets too much?”

“I promise.”

“Good,” Tony pressed a kiss under your ear and then he was back to dominating you completely, quicker than the flick of a switch, “Now, how many do you think you deserve baby? I’m thinking five for each offence, you think you can handle twenty? Cause I do.”

You moaned loudly as you nodded eagerly, desperate to feel the sting of his hands on your skin.

Tony chuckled lowly at your eagerness as he kneaded the curve of your ass: “Ok than babygirl, don’t forget to count.”

That was all the warning you got before Tony’s hand moved to strike your ass, skin bouncing against his palm and you keened at the burn it left, stuttering out a one as you struggled not to let your rear chase his hand, already desperate for more.

Tony delivered his slaps evenly between the two cheeks, five on each before scattering the final ten on the tops of both your thighs as you counted out each and every one with ragged breaths. A light sheen of swear coated your skin as you writhed in his lap, his hardened cock brushing against your stomach which only served to turn you on more, your cunt throbbing with need as wetness coated your inner thighs.

Soothing the flamed skin with gentle caresses, Tony let you come down from your punishment before he hoisted you off his lap and onto the floor between his legs, reaching over you to retrieve his half finished glass of scotch before leaning back into his seat.

You rested your head against Tony’s thigh, nuzzling your face against the expensive material of his pants, staring up at him with lidded eyes as you waited for his next instructions, careful not to catch the sore skin of your ass on your heels as you knelt before him.

“You were a real bad girl baby,” He murmured, fingers caressing the side of your face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t you think you should make it up to daddy?”

Trembling hands reached for his belt, pulling the leather free of the metal and slowly tugging the zipper of his pants down, your fingers brushing over his hard cock as you did. You quickly yanked his pants and boxers down to just his thighs; you had all the room you needed, and no patience left in you to bother undressing him completely.

Your mouth began salivating at the sight of him hot and heavy in your hand, your nightlong teasing hadn’t only pushed Tony to the edge and you were more than ready for the grandiose finale it was sure to bring. You leant forward, mouth parted and tongue poking out from between your lips ready to finally taste the sweet tang of him but were stopped by Tony’s hand in your hair halting your movements and forcing you to look up at him.

“No teasing Princess. You’ve done enough of that for one night, so just suck daddy’s cock like the fuckin’ champ you are, ok?”

You mewled as you nodded, biting on your bottom lip as his words caused your cunt to clench in need, hips rolling on instinct in their desperation to have Tony fill you up and fuck you already.

“Good girl.”

You keened at the praise, wasting no time when his grip in your hair loosened, wrapping your lips around the head of his cock as you softly sucked the sensitive tip, eyes casting up to watch Tony’s reaction, a flash of excitement shocking you when you saw his eyes were already locked on you, one arm thrown across the back of the couch as the other brought the glass to his lips so he could leisurely sip at his scotch.

Longing to see him loose his composure, you locked your lips tightly around his cock, bobbing your head along his shaft as your tongue traced from the prominent veins that decorated his shaft to the spot under the head that always caused him to stutter out a deep groan, hips bucking into your mouth as his hand left the back of the couch to tangle in your hair, guiding your movements as he threw his head back with a grunt.

Your hand worked what your mouth couldn’t reach, pumping the base as you sucked his cock, muffled moans escaping your full mouth as he throbbed on your tongue. This was not playful, there was no teasing here, only a desperate need to feel him coat your tongue with his cum, your movements frantic, spit escaping your lips that were locked around his rock-hard cock and trickling down his balls.

You were certain you were dripping onto the floor beneath you, the sight of Tony with his head thrown back, eyes clenched shut as he bit down on his lower lip to strangled the sounds of his pleasure caused heavy lust to rush through your every cell, eager for it to be over so he would finally fuck you.

Hand moving from his cock to grasp his balls, you compelled your throat to relax as you took every inch of him into your mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat as you gazed up at Tony through heavy lashes.

The feeling of your throat closing around his cock as you swallowed around him caused Tony’s hips to lunge upward, his release so close he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t want to cum in your mouth. Not tonight. Tonight, he was determined to fill you with his cum, buried balls deep in that sweet little pussy he’d been thinking about all night long.

Yanking you off his cock, you shot Tony a puzzled expression, brows furrowed and lips shiny with a mixture of your saliva and his pre-cum as he ducked down to capture your swollen lips in a bruising kiss, tongue licking into your mouth as he cupped the back of your neck with his hand, the other setting his glass on the table before trailing down your side to your pussy, swiping a thick digit between your glistening folds, both of you moaning at the contact.

Tony stood from the couch, holding out a hand to help you up, one you eagerly accepted as you felt your legs shake beneath you. Tony kissed you again, this time far gentler, a soft brush of his lips against yours as you practically melted into him, his arms wrapped around your waist as he began to walk you backwards.

The feeling of cold glass against your back made you jump slightly, tilting your head to the side as Tony littered the sensitive skin there with kisses and nips. You bucked your hips against his, trying to hook your leg over his hip to try and entice him into fucking you senseless but Tony gripped your thigh to stop your desperate movements, causing a deprived whine to slip past your lips as Tony chuckled at your distress.

“Gonna remind you just who you belong to babygirl, you and every other fucking person in this city are gonna watch how well you take my cock,” Tony muttered darkly in your ear as he squeezed your hips before turning you around to face the huge floor length window in his penthouse that over looked the entire city.

You could make out your translucent reflection, eyes ablaze with lust and lipstick smeared across your lips, the diamonds around your neck rivalling the glittering lights of the city. Tony was pressed tightly behind you, his cock nestled between your ass cheeks as his hands danced across your skin, practically purring in relief at finally being touched, placing your hands on the glass in front of you for support.

Resting his head on your shoulder, Tony chuckled at your mewling, nipping at your ear lobe as you tried to roll your hips against his cock, body mindlessly searching for some relief for the ache between your thighs. One calloused hand clasped your breast, toying with the taut nipple with nimble fingers as the other slithered down your stomach, cupping your sex as you tried in vain to rut against his hand, a pathetic whine slipping past your lips as your failed in finding the friction you so badly desired, only causing Tony’s smug smirk to grow.

“Aw, what’s wrong baby?” He cooed against your neck, eyes locked on yours in your reflection as his finger swiped through your dripping slit, “You want daddy’s cock? Is that it?”

You could only nod dumbly in response, your lust-addled brain making you sluggish and cutting of any articulate thought, but Tony wasn’t tolerating it, his hands stopping their ministrations much to your dismay as he tutted at you.

“Nu-uh Princess, you can do better than that: come on, beg daddy to fuck you, beg me and I’ll fuck you real good baby, I promise.”

“Daddy,” you pleaded with on a drawn-out moan, “Please, please, fuck me. I want your cock in me, want you to fill me with your cum, w-want you to make me yours.”

Want you to make me yours.

Tony’s eyes snapped open, lip curling in a slight snarl as he gripped his cock in his hand, lining himself at your entrance and snapping his hips up into yours with a growl. Your body jerked at the shock, a gasp tearing from your lips as you head hung low, eyes squeezed shut as your body adjusted to the sudden intrusion.

“You are mine,” He snarled, voice low as his beard scratched the bare skin of your shoulder with every word he spoke.

Before you could even register what he had said, Tony was drawing his hips back before thrusting into your wet heat with a bruising pace, hands gripping you tightly to him as he fucked you relentlessly. Your hands clawed the glass as you tried to keep yourself upright, body set alight after a long night of teasing coupled with Tony’s animalistic fucking, yearning for more and yet shying away from the overwhelming pleasure you were receiving.

Every thrust of his cock into you brushed against that spot that made you see stars, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your hips rolled back to meet his every drive into you, a litany of moans falling from your swollen, parted lips as your body tensed against his, your climax building within your core and threatening to snap.

Your eyes flew open when you felt a hand wrap around your neck, giving a warning squeeze as you met Tony’s wild eyes in the reflection of the window, the thought that someone in the buildings around you could be watched such a debauched scene causing your cunt to tighten around Tony’s cock.

“Watch yourself Babygirl. Want you to watch how fuckin’ pretty you look cummin’ on my cock,” Tony grunted.

His hand remained around your throat as you groaned, his fingers moving to slip to digits into your open mouth and you eagerly starting sucking on them, laving them with the same attention you did his cock and Tony muttered out curses as he began to buck his hips even faster into you, his twitching cock signalling that his release was also near.

You kept your eyes on the pair of you, as hard as it was, your hands pressing so hard into the glass in front of you, you feared it would shatter under the force. The fingers around your neck lightly tightened their hold, cutting off the flow of blood to your head as his other hand sought out your clit, coating his digits in your slick before circling the bundle of nerves that sent shockwaves of euphoria through you.

The combination of his fingers swirling against your clit and his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every roll of his hips had you trembling in his arms as your release washed over you like a wave, every cell in your being alight with ecstasy as a sharp cry tore from your throat.

You watched Tony’s reflection, the way his brow furrowed, a near-feral look in his eye as his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you pressed against him as your body worked through your orgasm. The feeling of your velvet wet heat surrounding him, walls fluttering around his aching cock finally pushed Tony to his own end, a low groan that boarded on a growl rumbling from deep within his chest as ropes of cum filled you, his cock throbbing as he shallowly thrust into you a few final times before near collapsing against your back.

His arm shot out to prop himself against the window, his hand resting on top of yours and fingers lacing with your own as he pressed sloppy kisses along your shoulders and neck, murmuring praises into your sweat-slicked skin as you both came down from your highs, the sound of the city below you and your shallow pants deafening in the otherwise silent room.

Slowly, Tony pulled his softening cock from you, rubbing his hands along your sides as you winced at the sensitivity of your sex, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head before he stooped down to hook his arm under your legs, the other wrapped around your back as he cradled you against his chest and carried you towards his bedroom.

You nuzzled your face into the crook of Tony’s neck, pressing kissing against his pulse point as he brought you straight to his en suite, delicately placing you on the worktop by the sink before moving to turn the shower on, letting the water run as he turned his attention back to you.

Grasping your ankle, Tony lifted your leg and pulled your heel off, dropping it carelessly to the floor before repeating the action on the opposite foot. Hands grazed up your legs before deft fingers hooked into the tops of the holdups on your thigh and dragged the thin material off your legs, throwing the stockings behind him without a second thought.

Tony pressed a chaste kiss to the skin of your thigh where your stockings previously sat, fingers massaging the muscles as he shifted to press his lips against yours, tongue idly stroking into your mouth as your fingers carded through his unruly hair as he unclasped the necklace from around your throat, placing it on the box that still sat on the counter beside you.

There was none of the primitive passion that defined your previous union, it was not bruising or desperate, and it certainly wasn’t a promise of more to come; it was simply two people enjoying the feel of soft lips against their own, the gentle touch of his hands and the feeling of your smooth skin against his.

It was comfort and reassurance and something akin to the feeling of home. The gentle warmth that flooded you in his embrace had a small smile playing on your lips as you basked in his affection.

“Are you alright? Did I go too far?” Tony mumbled as he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours as he searched your eyes for any signs of unease.

“No, m’fine. Better than fine actually.”

Tony chuckled, shaking his head as he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze loaded with something you couldn’t quite place: “Come on babygirl, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”

You stayed close to each other under the spray of the water, steam filling the room as you exchanged affectionate kisses, hands washing each other of the sweat and cum that stained your skin, your eyes feeling heavier as the water soothed your sore muscles, pushing you closer and closer to sleep.

The shower soon cut off, Tony helping you out and dressing you in one of his old shirts and a fresh pair of panties before slipping into to clean pair of boxers himself, the pair of you slipping under the fresh sheets of his bed as you let out a content sigh, snuggling into Tony’s arms as you tangled your legs with his.

“You know, you really did look gorgeous tonight. I don’t think I actually got ‘round to telling you that.”

“Hm, I kinda figured, you weren’t exactly subtle,” You giggled, tracing patterns on Tony’s chest as he let out a silent chuckle. “Does Bucky’s flirting really bother you that much?”

You had to ask, as much as what happened was part of the fun you two had, a small part of his anger was still very real and you needed to know why it got to him so much.

There was a long beat of silence, Tony’s arms tightening around you before he finally responded.

“No. I guess I just got caught up in the moment.”

You didn’t believe him.

Tony’s fingers danced across the skin of your back as you both lay in silence before you turned onto your stomach and propped yourself up on one elbow so you could look down at him.

“You know Bucky doesn’t mean anything when he flirts right? I’m pretty sure the only reason he does it is to annoy you,” You tried to joke, but the half-hearted way he smiled in response showed you it wasn’t working. “Besides, even if he did mean it, there’s no way I’d be interested. I’m all yours for as long as you want me.”

“I know babygirl.”

You tucked yourself back under Tony’s arm, his hold on you tightening as his lips placed a soft kiss into your hair.

“You should get some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling the sting behind your eyes that fully agreed with the man, begging you to close them and finally give them the rest they so desperately required, bidding Tony goodnight as you drifted off to the sound of his strong heartbeat in your ear.

Although you were exhausted, sleep was not as restful as you would have liked. Your mind warning you that what had happened tonight would not be the end of it as a feeling of dread started to bloom in your chest like a weed.

a/n: i don’t have a tag list but if you want alerts please follow @angelicthorwrites and turn on notifications

#tony stark x reader #tony x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark smut #tony stark series #angelicthorwrites

382 notes · View notes