#she lets the rest of them pick her stage outfit and then she removes like four accessories before she agrees to it

[keldabekush]

OC updated ! Nuclear Crotch Floss’s drummer who is 100% not available for any of the weird band drama that is going on. she’s here for the GIG and because she gets a lot of free time on tour to listen to audiobooks about deep space plankton and attend her online knitting class. Her name is Bulann (boo-lan) Miiracul (mir-ack-yule) but her stage name is Miracle. She is the embodiment of moisturised, unbothered, in her lane.

She used to be the drummer for Cascade; The Oracle!, but was offered a MUCH better contract by Nuclear Crotch Floss. She has worked with the Max Rebo Band and does a LOT of studio work for other artists, not limited to percussion but also bass and quite a few brass instruments. Highly talented and respected outside of her work with NCF.

[mode-lfy]

It's a year since I updated. I tried writing this on my laptop. Hopefully it's not much different than my usual works.

I didn't really proof read this or anything. So if there are some confusing parts. Forgive me. :<

It's a long oneshot but I hope you guys enjoy this.

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A young man dressed casually walks along the back of the concert, finding a comfortable spot among the empty seats at the back. He sees many beautiful girls walk out to the stage and preparing to perform for a special stage.

There were many beautiful faces but he smiled, focusing his attention on one of them. They waved at the fans who have been waiting for them to do this special stage, one of the girls looking around, as if looking for somebody that she is waiting for.

The girl spotted him and started smiling brightly, waving in the general direction to where he was sitting. The young man keep on a serious face and posed a little finger heart for her. Making her blush and look away, himself smiling like a fool after seeing her reaction.

She looked back at him, showing a small finger heart at his direction.

Then the girls started performing, dancing and singing along to the song. He smiled and clapped along to the music. In the middle of the performance, he took out a large fan board saying, "KIM MINJU! KIM MINJU!" and started swinging the board, making her smile brightly during the performance.

After the performance, everyone left the concert except for the young man, who sat the back and waited for Minju to come after the performance. The idols have a chat with the director and staffing team, who praised them for a successful performance before they head into the make-up room to remove their make up and change out of their outfits.

While waiting, the young man gave a box of cheese cake to the staff for them to share.

"Thank you for the cheesecake. You always bring something for us when you come over." The staff thanked.

"No worries, glad that you like it."

"I will tell Minju that you are waiting for her"

"It's okay, let her take her time. I can wait for her."

After awhile, the man looked back down at his watch and the paper bag that he brought. Just then, Minju came by and tapped his shoulders. "Sorry, did you wait very long for me?" She asked, sitting down at the seat beside him.

"No, your performance was amazing. I like your voice and your dance." He complimented, making Minju blush.

"Really? I was worried that it might not be good..." Minju confessed.

"You are Kim Minju, you can do it!" He cheered her on.

Then he picked up the paper bag and took out some of Minju's favourite dessert, Cheesecake.

"Thank you, Y/n. You must have been tired... You said today you were going to inspect the factories and store outlets around the city. How was it?" Minju asked.

"It was tiring, there was alot of travelling and talking with the staff and all. But... Now that I am with you, I am no longer tired. You give me energy and motivate me." Y/n said,  smiling at Minju's reaction who is blushing and laughing when he held her hand.

=====================================================================================

As Y/n is walking with Minju around the streets, and having their own date in the cold winter. Y/n decided to talk about Minju's contract extension. "Minju... Your contract is expiring with your agency. What are you planning to do?" Y/n asked, wondering what is her next move.

"I think... I will be signing as an actress under another company. A company that has more experience and can help me in my career." Minju said, while she held on to his arm and continued walking, feeling the warmth of Y/n's body.

"Why not... take a break from all and have good rest. You have been working alot, you deserved a break." Y/n said, stopping and looking at Minju's eyes.

"My mom is sick, she's in the hospital. I need the money to take care of her and for her to do surgery. And you know my father..." Minju stopped before continuing to walk on her own, looking down.

"Don't worry, I will take care of you and your mother. Let's get married, and you will have nothing to worry about." Y/n said, chasing up to her, and proposing for them to get married.

Minju smiled back, "You sure you want to get married this young? I thought men usually like to enjoy being unmarried for a while more." She teased.

"As long as i'm marrying you, nothing can worry me." Y/n said, making her blush and look down.

"Have you told your father about us yet?" She asked, making Y/n hesitate a little.

"You haven't told him, have you?" Minju asked again, confirming his suspicions when Y/n nodded guiltily.

"I haven't had the chance to... It's just that... You know... He is very strict about finding a wife and all." Y/n explained.

"What if... Your father doesnt approve of me and wants you to marry some other girl... Someone who is rich and even prettier than me." Minju asked, worried that she might lose him.

"No! It will never happen. I will make sure that we are together, no matter what." Y/n assured her.

"Okay. I trust you." Minju said, smiling as they held each other's hands.

====================================================================================

The next day, when Y/n is at the office, he came to his father's office and wanted to talk to him about Minju. But his father asked him to go home and get into a fresh new outfit before coming back to the office.

Once he was back, his father and him got into a car and the chauffeur started driving without his father speaking a word..

"Dad? Where are we going, we are supposed to still be working at this time." Y/n asked, wondering where they are going.

"Don't worry, and just sit quietly." His father told him.

Soon they arrived at an expensive, luxurious restaurant, where they went to a private dining room. Upon entering the room, he realised what was going on.

His father wanted to set him up with one of Korea's biggest companies' heiresses.

As they sat down, the girl's parents and his father were talking happily. They were satisfied to see their child's future spouse.They even called a matchmaking lady to see if they were compatible, to which the lady said yes.

"The groom is talented and is already helping his father to manage the business at a young age. While the bride is pretty and educated, she will be sure to help her future husband in his business dealings." The matchmaking lady said.

Y/n sighed as he realised the mess that he has gotten into.

=======================================================================================

After the lunch, where the Y/n met the girl and her parents, their parents asked them to go out on a date and know more about each other. Y/n wanted to refuse but he didn't want to embarrass his father or the girl and her parents. So he decided to agree first before saying he had something to attend to.

Y/n and the girl walked in the streets of Gangnam, the girl seemingly happy about the prospect of having Y/n as her husband. Y/n meanwhile thinking about how he needs to solve this big issue.

He wants to marry Minju...

So as they continued taking a slow walk, until they met a cafe, the girl suggested to go to the doctor. "I'm feeling cold. Let's take a seat in the cafe and we can talk. It's warmer inside."

"Sure." Y/n forced a smile.

Once inside, they both ordered drinks and found a seat beside the window where they get a very nice view of the streets.

The girl introduced herself before asking Y/n about his hobbies, what he does in the company. Y/n just answering them, and waiting for them to pass by.

"Hi... my name is..."

By an hour, Y/n decided it was enough and he told the girl that he had matters to tend to in the company and he had to go.

When they were both leaving and about to exit the cafe. Y/n saw Minju walking from a distance and panicked. He quickly stopped the girl at the door.

The girl was flustered when Y/n stopped her with his body and he asked her if she wanted to have a longer conversation,

"Actually, the weather is great. Do you want to go back in for another conversation? The company matters can come later." Y/n suggested.

"Sure!" The girl lit up.

Then Y/n quickly pulled her by the hand and sat at the same seat where they were originally.

Once they had their drinks served and continued talking, Y/n let out a sigh of relief as he didn't see any traces of Minju nearby.

He looked back at the girl who was sitting in front of him, who wanted to know more about him.

"So... what was your name again? Sorry, I'm a little bad with names." Y/n asked, this time actually paying attention.

"My name is Wonyoung... Jang Won-young!" She said brightly, happy that her soon-to-be husband is interested in getting to know her.

"My name is Y/n.... Lee Y/n." Y/n introduced himself.

Y/n looked around and out the window, hoping that Minju is no longer around. Y/n decided to spend awhile talking to Wonyoung before he leaves.

Wonyoung asked a few questions about his hobby and talked about her's, before she talked about what kind of wife she would be. All the while, maintaining an aura of pleasant, and something about her that shouts expensive.

"I would be a wife that would stay at home and take care of the children. I can also help you in your business. I seen how my parents work the business and I learned a few things, hopefully it will be of help to you." Wonyoung said, her hands on her lap, maintaining the elegant pose.

Hearing her plans for when she is married to him in the future, Y/n got uneasy and forced a smile. "Are you still studying or have you graduated?" Y/n asked, slightly interested since Wonyoung mentioned she learned a few things about business.

"Ah~ I just started university a year ago..." Wonyoung said, shy.

"A year ago !?!? H-How old are you???" Y/n asked, surprised and bewildered.

"I am about to reach 20 years old this year." Wonyoung said, brushing her hair to the side of her ear.

"I know you are 24 years old already, and graduated from Seoul National University. And you did it, with honors." Wonyoung said.

"How did you know?" Y/n asked, surprised.

"Your father told me." Wonyoung answered politely.

Y/n nodded.

"I think it's getting late. How about we go home?" Y/n asked.

Wonyoung agreed and got up with Y/n. Y/n took a quick scan around the area and was worried that Minju might still be around.

"Are you leaving now?" Wonyoung asked, her eyes shining at him.

"I will send you home first." Y/n said, making Wonyoung smile at him.

Y/n flagged a taxi and opened the door for Wonyoung to sit first before he sat inside.

Little did he know... Minju saw him and Wonyoung... She observes them for a while and sees them leaving together in a taxi...

=================================================

That night, Y/n went to Minju's show and brought gifts for the staff and her. He got into his seat, found Minju and smiled at her, waving at Minju.

Minju looked at him for a while but did not smile back. In fact, she looked like something was on her mind throughout the night.

When the show ended and Y/n went to look for Minju. She looked a little sad and followed him to his car.

They both sat in the car, however their expressions were different.

Y/n was excited to see her while Minju was disappointed.

"Do you want to go eat? I found a new place." Y/n suggested.

"I saw you with a girl today..." Minju admitted.

"Y-You saw me?" Y/n stuttered guiltily.

"Who is she? Is she the girl that your father wants you to marry?" Minju asked.

Y/n nodded, ashamed.

"So you have not told your father about me? About our relationship?" Minju questioned.

"I..." Y/n was at a loss of words.

Minju disappointed, asked him, "What are you going to do now?"

"The marriage isn't confirmed yet. I'm hoping to convince my father to let me decide on my own marriage." Y/n said, hoping to reassure Minju.

"I even got a ring for you." Y/n said, taking out a box which contains marriage rings and showed it to Minju.

"Trust me please. I really want to marry you Minju." Y/n pleaded with Minju.

"I don't know... I'm really worried. I don't come from a rich family. The girl that I saw today... She is pretty and carries around a rich aura. I'm assuming she's a heiress." Minju said, sadness obvious in her voice.

"I will tell my father about you soon. Please give me some time." Y/n held Minju's hand.

"You have been saying that for a long time. I think we should stop seeing each other if this is not going to work out." Minju said, releasing her hand from Y/n's grasp.

"Minju!" Y/n reached out, hoping to stop Minju.

But Minju unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, walking away.

==================================================

Y/n went to the office, sighing, stressed and not know what to do. He doesn't want to disappoint his father but he loves Minju. He went up to his office and heard some voices in the office's resting area.

"Ah, boss. Why are you sighing?" A voice said. 

"I'm just glad that my son is now fully grown up, and he's about to get married." Y/n's father said.

"See! Look at boss! Ever since he seen his future daughter-in-law, he has been smiling from ear to ear." Another voice said.

"I still remember how when Y/n was a kid and followed his father around in the old company office. He looked weak and was always sick." One voice said.

"I'm just glad that he grew up well and is healthy." Y/n's father said.

"He is also fit, and studies well. He graduated from a top university as well. Can you imagine that?" One of the voice continued.

"I don't expect much from Y/n to be honest... I just want him to marry a decent girl, have some kids and live a good life. I'm planning to pass the company to him once he is more experienced and ready to manage the company." His father confessed.

"Ah, boss. You are preparing to retire already!"

"I started this company from nothing. Now that the company is big and developed, I can finally pass over to my son. I am also growing old, I can't manage it forever." His father joked.

Y/n could hear the sound of Soju being opened and poured, his father and his long-time employees celebrating.

He sighed once again and left the office. He drove to the Han River, where Minju and him used to go on dates all the time.

Now, late at night, and alone. Y/n looked at the blue river and smiled, looking back at the memories of him and Minju. He relaxed and took a deep breathe.

"What should I do..." He mumbled.

He sat for an hour alone, before he drove back home and took a rest for the night.

==================================================================

It had been a week since Y/n met Minju. This time, they agreed to meet at the Han River, where they had many memories together.

"Minju." Y/n said happily, when he finally saw Minju after a week.

"Have you told your father about us?" Minju asked.

Y/n looked down and shook her head.

"So you really are going to marry that girl instead." Minju realised.

"I don't want to! But... I don't wan't to disappoint my father." Y/n admitted to Minju.

"But how about... you be my mistress?" Y/n asked, timidly and ashamed.

"Mistress...?" Minju felt shocked at his request.

"You know that my mother raised me alone single-handedly, and I grew up without knowing my father." Minju started to have tears in her eyes.

"How can you ask me to be a mistress?" Minju cried.

"Minju... I..." Y/n felt helpless.

"I don't want to force you. I will leave." Minju said, wiping her tears away and turning around to walk away.

"Minju! Are you going to give up on our relationship." Y/n asked, helding on to her hand.

Minju looked back at him in sadness and left him alone.

===================================================================

"Appa, can I talk to you about something?" Y/n asked, when he reached home.

"What's wrong?" His father asked, concerned and sitting at the couch.

"Do you want to come out for a meal with me?" Y/n asked, sitting beside his father at the couch and looking at him.

"Sure." His father agreed.

Y/n brought his father to a restaurant where it was peaceful and pleasant environment.

"Why did you bring me here?" His father asked as they entered the restaurant.

"I want to show you someone." Y/n said, smiling.

When they were led to a private table, Minju was already sitting and waiting for them.

"Who is she?" Y/n's father asked.

"She's Minju, my girlfriend." Y/n revealed.

"Girlfriend!?!" His father was shocked to hear him.

"You are supposed to get married soon, what are you doing?"

"Minju and I have been dating for a long while. I wanted to tell you about it, but I couldn't find a good opportunity..." Y/n answered, gathering up the courage to say what he didn't dare to say for the past few months.

"She looks familar." His father asked, looking at Minju carefully.

"Minju is a singer, she is also an actress and music show host." Y/n introduced, smiling at Minju and proud of her.

"A singer? Also a host?" His father was infuriated and looked at Y/n, disappointed.

"Why did you choose to date someone like that?" He continued.

Y/n didnt expect his father's reactions and looked at Minju who was scared.

"Appa, Minju is a good woman. She is good at singing, kind and gentle!" Y/n argued.

"You are already engaged with Wonyoung. Don't do anything that will embarrass me." His father scolded him.

Minju held her hands tightly, nervous and did not know what to say or do.

His father gave him an ultimatum. "If you decide to cancel your engagement, and marry this girl. I will disown you!" His father said to Y/n, looking at Minju angrily before walking away.

"Appa!" Y/n called after his father, hoping to stop him, but to no avail.

Y/n looked at Minju before chasing after his father. Minju herself left behind, looking pathetic as she sat alone at the restaurant.

=========================================================================

After that incident, Minju and Y/n did not talk ever again. Even when Y/n called or texted Minju to contact her, she did not reply to him.

It had been 3 months, and it was close to Chuseok, an event that is auspicious and it is also an time of the year where familes gather together to celebrate and spend time together.

Chuseok was also the day where Y/n and Wonyoung was supposed to be married, but Y/n has been thinking of Minju. He wants to cancel the marriage but he is not willing to offend his father and the Jang family.

On the weekend, Y/n went to Minju's last day as a MC and see Minju again, having missed her so dearly.

However, he couldn't enter the building and wasn't allowed to see Minju. Minju herself even hiding and running away from Y/n when the show ended.

3 days later, Y/n was coming off from work when the director of the show contacted Y/n.

"Y/n, are you free right now?" The director asked.

"Yes, I am in my car right now, driving back home." Y/n answered.

"Can you come over to the SBS building? I have something to pass you." The director asked.

"Is it is something important?" Y/n asked.

"It's from Minju. She have this handwritten letter for you." The director said, which made Y/n turn around and drive quickly to the building.

Y/n arrived at the building and received the letter. "Is there something wrong with you and Minju? I never seen you at her mother's funeral." The director said as he passed the letter to Y/n.

"Her mother died!?!?" Y/n asked in shock.

"She didn't tell you? Her mom died 2 days ago. That night, when Minju finished her last day of being the MC. She didnt even stay behind for a farewell party, she immediately went to see her mom in the hospital. That night, her mom passed away..." The director informed him.

"Well, tonight she gave me this letter and told me to pass it to you tomorrow but  I need to catch a flight tonight." The director said, before leaving the building.

Y/n opened the handwritten letter from Minju.

'Y/n Oppa,

I don't want to trouble you nor don't I want you to be disowned by your father. I love you but I hope your marriage to Miss Jang is happy, You should forget about me.

Now that my mother is dead, I no longer have any family with me. There is no more meaning for me to leave in this world.

I will leave this world and join my mother in another world. Don't worry about me, I will be with my mother, and I will be happy.

By the time, you see this letter, the news of my body being discovered in the Han River should have reached you.

Please do not blame me for being selfish.

Love,

Minju.'

Upon reading the letter, Y/n quickly got on his car and drive immediately to the Han River.

Y/n prayed as he drove, hoping to stop Minju before she commits sucide.

Once he reaches the Han river, he ran to the spot where Y/n and Minju spend the most time around and once he reached the place. He ran around, hoping to find a glance of Minju.

While looking around, Y/n found Minju walking slowly down to the river. Y/n took off his shoes, trying to grab Minju back and away from the water.

"Minju! I'm here!" Y/n shouted as he ran into the water.

"Stop!" Y/n shouted at Minju, as he sees Minju submerging into the water. He dived into the water and grab Minju away.

Y/n pulled Minju away and got onto the ground.

Minju spit out water, coughing once she got pulled onto the ground. Y/n too himself, spitting out water and lying down on the ground. Happy and smiling that he was able to save Minju.

"Oppa? Why are you here?" Minju asked, looking at Y/n, herself wet and hair all messy.

Y/n pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her. "Why didn't you tell me that your mother was sick? Even when she died, you should have told me!" Y/n berated her.

"I don't want to disturb you from your marriage. You are getting married soon, and... I am no longer your girlfriend..." Minju said, pushing Y/n away.

"No! Minju, when I read that letter and on the way here. I realised that I love you, I can't lose you." Y/n explained.

"I am going to cancel the marriage and marry you." He continued.

"What about your father?" Minju asked, worried.

"I'm sure my father will understand. If it means me getting disowned and offending the Jangs'. So be it. I know that I can't lose you." Y/n said, holding Minju's hand.

Minju smiled and nodded, hugging him.

Y/n told his father about his decision and even told his father that he will love Minju forever. His father, helpless, could only give in to Y/n and even helped him cancel his wedding with the Jangs'.

Instead, Y/n would marry Minju and they held a small private wedding.

In a year's time, Minju would give birth to their first child together, a son. 

"Minju, I'm very thankful that today you are alive and married to me. I can't imagine a life without you.. Or our son." Y/n said, patting Minju's hair after she gave birth to their son.

Y/n kissed Minju on her cheeks.

"I love you."

[okaylikesmomo]

Chapter 8: Rollin

The concert runs quite smoothly. You watch from the dressing room, noticing the girls look much more comfortable tonight than they did in LA. It seems they needed a couple of concerts before they truly felt comfortable performing overseas.

During outfit changes, Sana was mostly professional. You unzip her red dress for her, and as she pulls it off you hand her a pair of black pants.

"Does this pushup look weird?" she asks you while she cups her tits in her hands.

"What? No, I am pretty sure ‘weird’ is not the word Once are thinking of when they see your boobs tonight."

"Okay but does it feel weird?" she asks as she grabs your hands and places them on her chest.

"Sana, your boobs are perfect, now focus," you say while handing her a black top.

She whispers into your ear, "thinking of all the fans who jerk it to me is making me so wet, can you get me fresh underwear for the next change?"

She gives you a big smile, her eyes in the shape of half moons, before running away to get ready to go back on stage. She looks back at you again and blows you a kiss before she follows the group back on stage.

You weren't entirely sure if she was serious about wanting an underwear change mid concert, but you decide it's better to be safe than sorry. You continue to watch the concert, and as Cry For Me comes to an end you get ready for the next outfit change. You watch as Sana comes to you, using her hand as a fan. Her face is quite flushed and she is visibly sweating. She looks tired and out of breath.

"Next concert lets just do the crop top, this jacket makes me too warm," she says. You hand her a towel and her demeanor suddenly changes and her expression becomes sly, "unless you like it when I'm all sweaty" she purrs mischievously before dabbing at her face with the towel, careful to not smudge the makeup.

You smile slightly but ignore her advance, knowing she doesn't like it being too easy when she teases you. You step closer to her and reach your arms around her body, unzipping the back of her pants for her before pulling them down. You're on your knees in front of her, untangling her pants from her feet.

"Y/N," she whines, "can you wipe my pits for me, they're sweaty."

You look up and see she has removed the black jacket and was now just wearing the sleeveless black crop top. You stand up to match her height and she raises her arms straight in the air, her face wearing a bubbly smile as she watches you. You grab the towel from her and begin wiping.

"Wouldn't it be easier if you used your tongue?" she asks, faking an innocent look.

You chuckle lightly, "you're really horny tonight aren't you?"

She smiles before lowering her arms and resting them on your shoulders, "it's your fault, I'm only like this when you're assigned to me."

You lift her arms off your shoulders and remove her shirt for her, "oh so it's my fault? Does that mean you want to punish me later."

She slips into her silver dress and turns away from you, giving you access to the zipper on the back, "well, it was my idea to have you be assigned to me, so I guess it's my fault and I'm the one who should be punished."

You reach your arms around her, hugging her from behind, and she wraps her arms around yours. You lean in and give her neck a kiss, tasting the slight saltiness of her sweaty body. You kiss her neck a few more times before whispering into her ear, "do you still want to change your underwear."

She giggles and nods her head, "only if you do it for me."

You reach your hand up the bottom of her dress and pull down her safety shorts and underwear. You bend down to remove the black panties and pick them up. You turn Sana around so she's facing you and you place her panties into her mouth. You bend down again, lifting up her dress slightly to give you a view of her glistening pussy lips.

"What if you just performed like this?"

She makes a muffled noise of approval, her mouth still stuffed, before you help her put on the fresh pair of white underwear. You pull up her safety shorts and stand back up to remove the fabric from her mouth.

"Mmmmm I bet you also want a taste," she says seductively.

Before you can answer, you get distracted as Momo walks by you. She's wearing her purplish-silver one piece with knee high boots and the view from behind showed half her ass cheeks sticking out from underneath. She turns her head and looks back at you, noticing that you are watching her, she gives you a wink before turning back and making sure to add extra sway in her hips as she walks away from you.

"Seriously?" Sana says incredulously with a laugh before she begins pouting and crosses her arms. "You really are unbelievable."

"I... it's just... Momo..."

"I know Momo is hot, but you literally just pulled my used underwear out of my mouth, how can you possibly be thinking of someone else," she says, frustrated with you.

You bend down to help her put her boots on. She lifts her leg up and you give her foot a kiss, "I'm sorry sweetie." She seems to like this and her expression softens, but she still looks angry. "How about tonight I make it up to you back at the hotel?"

"What makes you think you deserve me tonight."

"Oh that's fair, maybe I'll spend the night with Momo..."

She can't believe you just said that, her face in shock, "you-"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," you quickly add.

She turns around and begins stomping away before you grab her playfully, "Sana I'm not letting you go until you tell me you're not mad."

She huffs, "I'm fine."

"I'll give you another massage if you want," you say, noticing her interest in the idea.

"I'm going to show you what you will be missing tonight if you make me angry again," she says airily before getting ready to go back on stage.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jihyo asks as she walks by you.

"That girl will always be trouble."

--

You watch as they finish performing Heart Shaker, your eyes fixated on Nayeon. She was a professional, you never could have guessed that she was sporting a plug in her ass during the concert if you didn't know better. You watch them make the line for the ending pose, Nayeon is breathing heavily. None of the fans would find it out of place, Nayeon was usually breathing quite heavily after performances, but a part of you wonders if she was breathing heavier tonight knowing what she was about to do.

The girls head back into the dressing room. You watch Nayeon walk past you, she gives you a subtle smile before heading over to get changed into her pink outfit. Sana walks up to you and turns around without saying a word. As you unzip her dress, you wonder if she was still upset with you.

"You looked great out there," you say, testing the waters.

She turns around while slipping out of her dress and smiles brightly at you, "you're so sweet."

You feel relieved, as you weren't sure how it would go if she was still upset and you told her you were leaving her during the intermission to go take Nayeon's anal virginity.

"Look, Sana," you start as you help her get into her black dress. "I need to go do something okay? I'll be back after Push and Pull."

She looks kind of sad, "you won't be watching tonight?"

"I will, I'll actually have a pretty good view."

She looks at you and nods before lifting her foot to let you change her shoes for her. You watch as she heads over to where Jihyo and Dahyun are sitting and the three of them begin chatting.

Nayeon walks up to you, "I told them I had to go to the bathroom, and that you were escorting me."

You nod and take her hand as the two of you head to the private booth. From inside you can see the whole crowd, they are playing the game where they dance along to the prompts on the screen. It looks like they are loving it out there.

You turn to Nayeon, "alright, last chance to back out."

She shakes her head. She had put on her Hello outfit, a short, bright pink dress.

You position her so that she is bent over the back of the couch, facing towards the tinted window overseeing the crowd. You pull up her dress and pull down her safety shorts and underwear. You see the exposed plug that you had placed all those hours ago, and beneath it her pussy is already wet. You grip the base of the plug and gently remove it from her, she lets out a moan. Her ass finally emptied.

You drop your pants and then grab the bottle of lube from your bag and begin applying it, first to her asshole and then to your penis, "usually we would go real slow, but we don't have that luxury tonight. If it's ever too much, or you need a break, or you just want to stop, just say the word."

"Okay, now fuck me," Nayeon says breathily.

You step forward into her and place your tip at her entrance. Outside, the intermission has ended and Sana, Jihyo, and Dahyun are about to take the stage. You can't see the main stage, but as you hear the crowd erupt, you assume they have just appeared. At the same time as the cheers start, you push into Nayeon. One smooth thrust takes you all the way into her asshole. She was tight, not as tight as Chaeyoung, but tighter than Sana. She lets out a loud moan as you enter.

You retract, and then push back into her. You begin thrusting into her with a rhythm, matching the song playing outside. As you fuck her, you watch the crowd cheering. The windows were tinted, but because of where you were positioned it almost felt like they were cheering for you. You look down at Nayeon as you continuously plow into her slowly. She isn't moving at all, and you notice her hands are gripping the back of the couch tightly, her knuckles white.

You pause for a second, "are you okay?"

"Just give it to me, fuck my ass and fill it up," she says, each word dripping with desire.

You wanted her to remember this moment. You reach down and spread her legs a bit more before wrapping your arm around her lower waist and placing it on her clit. You start fucking her again, this time also matching your movements with stimulation of her pussy. She's moaning, her pussy spilling drops of her juices on the floor between her legs. You start going harder, both in the ass and with your hand. Her moans turn into screams, while her pussy keeps leaking.

You feel her body start shaking, her pussy a faucet now. You remove your hand and now place both hands on her ass cheeks. You remember how Nayeon liked getting her pussy fucked hard as she came, you wanted to see if it was the same with her asshole. Gripping into the skin of her ass with your hands, you begin plowing her harder than ever. Her screams were completely drowned out by the crowd outside. Her body convulsed in pleasure.

You don't slow down, you keep fucking her tight little asshole while you watch the performance outside. The subunit had now taken to the extended stage, and you could finally see them. There wasn't much time left and you wanted to fill her. You look down again, watching your length disappear into her body with every thrust of your hips. Her ass rippled like waves of water. Her legs are shaking uncontrollably as she holds onto the couch to avoid falling over. You can hear the wetness of her body as you fuck her.

You look up again, watching the choreography of the Push and Pull chorus. You feel yourself getting close. For a moment, you forget about this being Nayeon's first time, all you can think about is how much you want to fill her. It only takes a few more pushes before you cum. You let yourself stay buried in her tight ass as your cock pulses inside her. Her screams have turned into moans and grunts.

Once you finish cumming, you become acutely aware of just how tight Nayeon was right now. It almost hurt. You pull yourself out and immediately a glob of your white goo spills out of her, adding to the puddle of fluid between her legs. You watch for a second as she continues to leak your cum before grabbing a towel and wiping her clean. It was no easy task, her legs were covered in a mixture of her pussy juices and sweat.

You pull her dress back down, "Nayeon, that's it, you did it."

She watches the performance outside, not saying anything.

"Nayeon?" you say, not sure how to interpret her reaction.

She turns to you, her eyes wet, "yeah, I'm good."

You quickly go to wipe her eyes with your shirt, taking care to not let her mascara get ruined. "Did it hurt?"

You watch as she nods her head. You worry that it was too much for her to handle, especially right before going back on stage. You grab her ass again and gently massage it, thinking of things you can do to help her right now when she speaks up and interrupts your thoughts.

"Can you put the plug back in," she says quietly.

You weren't sure if you heard her correctly over the crowd, "what did you say?"

She grabs the plug that you had tossed onto the couch and hands it to you, "please."

You maintain eye contact with her as you take the plug from her hand and reach around her body, bringing it up her dress. You poke around until you find her asshole and hold the plug to it. You watch her bite her lip and give you a nod before you plunge the plug back into her. She gasps heavily before letting the air out slowly.

She quickly puts her underwear and safety shorts back on, "come on, we don't have much time." She grabs your hand and the two of you quickly head back to the dressing room.

Some of the staff see you enter and you begin apologizing profusely for taking so long "in the bathroom" as they start asking where you two were. There is no time to dwell on anything, everyone needs to be professional and get the job done. Nayeon was rushed to position, getting her hair and makeup lightly touched up. You let Nayeon go before heading back to the booth to clean up.

--

Sana, Jihyo, and Dahyun enter the dressing room. Sana looks around for you, becoming downhearted when she doesn't see you. She sits down next to the other members and watches the Hello performance on the screen, hiding her disappointment that you were missing.

You finish cleaning up in the booth, getting to watch the crowd's reaction to the Hello intro. Unfortunately you couldn't see the entrance on the main stage which was your favorite part of the performance. You grab your bag and head back to the dressing room. You grab a bottle of water and watch the performance on one of the screens set up inside.

"Where were you," Sana asks.

You look down from the screen and notice Sana has joined you. You expected her to be upset with you, but her tone was more sorrow than mad, "sorry, I had to take care of something that ended up taking longer than expected."

She grabs onto you, "did you watch?" she asks while her eyelids flutter, looking at you expectantly.

"Yes, I promise that I did," you answer, hugging her back.

Sana grabs a drink while you return your focus to the screen. You watch Nayeon. You had seen this performance a few times now, and admittedly you had always fixated on Momo during it, but tonight your gaze was locked on Nayeon. Sana notices your focus and tilts her head.

"Yah, I give you all the attention and you still can't stop looking at Momo," she says while laughing.

"It's not like that," you say, still watching the screen. "Come on, let's get you changed into your encore outfit. If you want my attention I can personally guarantee that outfit will get it."

"Oh I plan on getting everyone's attention tonight," she says cheerfully while dragging you along to her dressing area. "But when we get back to the hotel, you better not ignore me," she adds threateningly.

You help her remove the black dress and hand her the black shorts. You watch her struggle to pull them up over her hips. The shorts were extremely tight on her. She's wiggling and hopping around before she sighs.

"Help me," she pants.

You step next to her and she puts her arms on your shoulder again. You reach down and grab the shorts, wiggling them upwards. Once they're on, you give her butt a light slap and turn her around.

"Holy shit Sana, these shorts leave nothing to the imagination."

She looks back over her shoulder cutely at you, her crescent shaped eyes shining, before wiggling her butt.

You hand her the top, "I never quite understood this new trend, it's literally just the sleeves of the hoodie? Who thought of this?"

She slips on the crop top and then the hoodie sleeves. She turns to face you again, staring straight into your eyes as she bends forward at the hip, placing her hands on her knees. Her cleavage is deep and you can see half of her tits from this angle.

"Oh, now I get it," you say while she laughs at you.

You help her put on her black, knee-high boots before the two of you head over to where Dahyun and Mina are sitting. Dahyun had already changed into her encore outfit which consisted of a skirt with a black shirt. Mina was wearing her 132 outfit.

"How do I look," Sana announces as she does a twirl for the girls.

"Wow Sana, so sexy tonight," Dahyun says, mouth agape.

Sana giggles, "let's play a game during one of the songs Dahyun, who can get the most attention from Once."

"Oooooh that sounds fun," Mina interjects. "How will we decide which song?"

The three of them think for a second before Dahyun speaks up, "well, we're spinning the wheel to see which song we perform, how about we let Y/N give us a signal?"

"Huh? Yeah sure, you just want me to pick a random song from the encore?"

"Yeah, and then you can also help us pick a winner," Mina adds

Everyone seems happy with the arrangement. Shortly after, Mina heads to the stage for her performance while Dahyun walks over to get a drink and begins chatting with Jihyo. Nayeon, Momo, and Chaeyoung enter the dressing room again and join you and Sana on the couches.

"Y/N won't stop ogling you," Sana says to Momo as she sits down across from you.

Momo is sitting back casually on the couch with her arms raised, adjusting her hair behind her head. Her muscular arms are flexing slightly as she unties her ponytail, and her abs are very prominent at the moment. You never told Sana that it was actually Nayeon you were watching, despite how much you loved Momo's body and dancing.

"Oh, is that so?" Momo says while smirking at you.

None of the girls knew about your deal with Nayeon, and you didn't plan on making it public.

"I was just appreciating her dancing, I wasn't ogling," you say defensively.

Momo stands up and walks over to where you are sitting, "you don't like my body?" she asks cutely as she bends forward with her hands on your knees.

"What? No. I mean I do, but that's not what I mean" you stammer as she rubs her hands up your thighs.

"Lap dance! Lap dance!" Chaeyoung begins chanting as Nayeon and Sana laugh at her.

Momo turns around and bends over, her big round ass right in front of you. She slowly moves it side to side as she pushes her hair over her shoulder, exposing her toned back muscles. She lowers her body so that her ass now rests on your crotch. She places her hands on your knees again while rubbing her ass up and down your body.

You sit back and enjoy the show as Momo grinds on you. The other three girls watched as well. Her body was so toned and skinny, but she still managed to be extremely curvy. Her ass was incredibly soft and you watched the shape of her cheeks conform to your body as she moved. Her pink sweats showed off the shape nicely.

You hear the dressing room door open and Momo quickly gets off you as some of the stylists enter again. The Hello subunit goes to change into their encore outfits as Jihyo and Dahyun join you and Sana on the couches. Sana places her legs on your lap and you gently massage her calves. The three of you watch the 132 performance come to an end.

"It's seriously impressive how Mina controls her body," Jihyo remarks.

"She makes the body rolls look so smooth, I think only Momo could do it as well as her," Dahyun agrees.

Mina, Tzuyu, and Jeongyeon finish the performance and re-enter the dressing room, immediately heading over to change into their encore outfits. Jihyo heads over to where Mina is, leaving you with Sana and Dahyun.

"Dahyun, will you join Y/N and me tonight."

"Join you? What do you mean?"

"Well," Sana says, still laying down with her legs on your lap, "you look like such a snack in that skirt, I just want to eat you up."

Dahyun blushes slightly, "what are you even saying right now."

"She's right," you add, "you do look like a snack right now."

Her cheeks get pinker, "I... I don't know..."

"Don't feel pressured," Sana says while standing up, "the invitation is there if you want it."

You admire Sana's ass as she bends over to give Dahyun a kiss on the cheek, making the pale girl blush even harder, before heading over to get her makeup touched up.

"Sana has been very horny tonight," you say. "Don't mind her."

"I want to do it."

You're a bit surprised. You knew she was okay with kissing and light touching, but you don't think Dahyun had never done anything sexual with the other girls before.

"Sana, Momo, and Nayeon have all asked me many times if I wanted to... you know... but I have only ever done anything with Chaeyoung," she confesses.

Turns out your assumption was wrong.

"I think... you've given me more confidence," she continues shyly.

You stand up and move across to sit next to her, placing your hand on her leg, "good, you have every right to be confident."

She looks up at you, still blushing, "plus I want you again, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night."

You move your hand up her skirt slowly, caressing her squishy thighs, feeling her soft skin in your palm. You reach her safety shorts and begin rubbing the outside lightly. She bites her lip, squirming as you run your fingers over her shorts. You give her neck a soft kiss.

"60 seconds until encore!" a staff member shouts.

She jolts up and you remove your hand from her skirt.

"Go on, have some fun out there, I'll be watching," you say. "Then tonight I'll do more than watch."

Sana and Mina come over, "don't forget our game," Mina says to the two of you.

You follow the girls as they walk on-stage. You are just behind the curtain where they entered from, so only they can see you if they are standing by the song wheel. They start by performing Candy, following it with their closing mention. You watch as Dahyun gives her final speech with great confidence. They go to spin the wheel, it lands on Believer. The three girls look at you and you shake your head and they head back to the extended stage to interact with fans.

The song ends and they return to the wheel, spinning it a second time. This time it lands on Rollin. You remember their performance for Rollin in Korea when they were wearing Christmas outfits. It was extremely cute, so you wanted to see how they would play their game during it. You nod your head and the three of them once again head to the extended stage. You position yourself to the side so that you can see them as the song begins.

You watch them interact with the fans as the song plays, but then the chorus hits. You were expecting them to do their normal cute dances, but your jaw drops when you see what they do. All three of them decided that they would replace their cute dance with extremely sexual body rolls. You couldn't believe your eyes, and it was clear that the crowd was loving it.

Sana was arching her back like an expert out there as she shook her ass. Dahyun was right up in front of the stage, spinning her body as her skirt rode up her legs, biting her lip sexually. Mina was off to the side, her body rolls done masterfully, her exposed abs flexing hard. The three of them kept going, making the crowd go wild. Then again during the second chorus they started popping off once more. They had all the confidence in the world about their bodies right now, shaking and rolling around on stage.

You don't know what you expected, but it definitely wasn't that, you think as the song comes to an end. You had a strong feeling already that Sana, with her tight booty shorts, probably won their game. Fans would probably be begging for Rollin going forward. They wrap up the concert with BDZ and TT before the girls return to the dressing room.

The room was buzzing with energy, most of them were very lively tonight. The plan was a bit different tonight, instead of immediately going back to the hotel, they were going to wait a bit for safety reasons. That meant they had some time to kill. Chaeyoung brings up the idea of alcohol and some of the others heavily agree. Jihyo looks at you for approval, and you decide it's fine. They open a couple bottles of Champagne.

"Wow Sana, Twitter is being filled with your fancams right now," Chaeyoung remarks, showing some of the other girls her phone.

"Oh my God Sana what got into you tonight!" Jihyo exclaims.

"Rollin is my new favorite song, no Sana no life, Sana Sana Sana," Nayeon reads off comments while laughing. "It seems you were quite popular."

Sana giggles cutely as she cuddles with Dahyun, her cheeks red probably from the alcohol.

"Look at this Mina one," Jeongyeon says. "Ass of the year, abs of the year, body roll of the year."

"Ahh Dahyun you are so cuuuuute," Momo shouts, showing everyone a clip of Dahyun during Rollin.

"Is she biting her lip?" Nayeon laughs. "Dahyun what happened to you!"

Dahyun laughs, her cheeks bright red, "what I was just playing around a bit!"

"A bit?" Chaeyoung replies while laughing.

Tzuyu softly comments from the side, "Mina you look so hot here."

Mina smiles and leans her head on Tzuyu's shoulder.

"It was Y/N's id-idea," Sana hiccups.

All nine of the girls look at you.

"Woah hold up wait a minute here, definitely was not my idea."

"Y/N is so dirty minded," Momo says.

"You even made Dahyun act sexy," Jihyo adds.

"Oh stop teasing him," Mina says from the side while laughing at you, "it was Sana's idea."

"That... doesn't surprise me at all,"  Jeongyeon says.

"Fancams are already on YouTube, compilations of Rollin," Chaeyoung says as she scrolls her phone, mouth open. "You three are being talked about in every Kpop community right now."

The girls continue chatting and drinking. Nayeon stands up and walks away, giving you a look as if she wants you to join her. You excuse yourself, climbing past Sana and Dahyun who are basically making out now.

Nayeon is wearing jeans and an oversized sweatshirt, "I think it's time to take it out."

You had forgotten that Nayeon was still wearing the plug. You take her to one of the changing areas, secluded from the rest of the girls. She pulls her pants down and leans on the dresser.

"How did it feel," you ask as you gently remove the plug.

"By the end I barely even noticed it, it was comfortable."

You stick your face between her cheeks and give her a few soft kisses before standing back up and pulling her pants up. She turns around to face you and hops up, so she's sitting on the dresser in front of you.

"And how was the other part?"

She pauses for a moment, "Sana was right, it really hurt. I think after a few more times though... I think I will really enjoy it."

You step closer to her, standing between her legs now, placing your hands around her lower back, "so that means you want to do it again."

She smiles softly at you, "depends, did you like it?"

You lean forward and kiss her.

--

On the van ride home you end up sitting in the middle row between Sana and Dahyun, while Nayeon and Momo sit in the back. Momo had fallen asleep on Nayeon. Meanwhile, Sana was all over you. She was usually very touchy, but it would be amplified whenever she had a few drinks in her.

"Oh I can't wait for you to fuck me tonight," she slurred, "I've been so naughty."

"Sana, you're drunk."

You try to constrain her to no avail, and she begins planting kisses on your face.

"Do you want to fuck me, do you want to put it in my butt again?"

Before you can even say anything, her body goes limp. She's now leaning on you as you hold her up, gently snoring. Dahyun giggles next to you.

"What are you giggling about," you say as you adjust Sana onto your shoulder.

"All the things Sana was saying she wanted to do with me tonight," Dahyun responds. "I don't think she will remember any of it now."

You grab her hand, "well, what about what you want to do tonight."

She stares into your eyes, her cheeks are still red, you're not sure if it's from the alcohol or something else. She doesn't say anything.

The van arrives at the hotel. You lay Sana down on the seat before picking up Momo, freeing Nayeon. You tell the staff driving the van that you'll be back for Sana, and you head into the hotel. You head up the elevator with Nayeon and Dahyun, with Momo on your shoulder.

"Here, take Sana's keycard and head to her room, feel free to freshen up," you say to Dahyun.

She takes the keycard and walks to Sana's room while you walk with Nayeon.

"Just bring her to my room tonight, I'll take care of her," Nayeon says.

You enter into Nayeon's room and place Momo gently on the bed.

"Here," you say to Nayeon while handing her the plug. "You can keep it as a memory of tonight, do with it what you want."

She gives you a kiss on the cheek, "go have your fun with Sana and Dahyun, goodnight."

You walk toward the elevator where you find the group of girls from the other van. They say their goodnights before heading to their rooms. Chaeyoung, however, breaks off from the group and comes over to you.

"Hey, umm, could you let me into Momo's room."

"I would but it would be empty, Momo is currently passed out in Nayeon's room," you reply.

"Aw that's a shame, I guess she owes me one," she says, looking disappointed. "Anyways, goodnight!"

You realize that Momo had probably planned to continue her new member every night thing, and it was Chaeyoung's turn. You chuckle softly as you take the elevator down. You head to the van where you find Sana still asleep, no longer snoring. You pick her up gently, wedding style in your arms before thanking the driver and heading towards your room.

As you ride the elevator up, Sana's eyes blink open. Her eyes are shining as she looks up at you.

"This is romantic, but also kind of embarrassing," she says. "I think I'm okay to walk."

You place her down, "so, how much Champagne did you end up drinking."

"Probably a bit too much," she answers while rubbing her temples.

The two of you enter Sana's room where you find Dahyun laying on the bed, passed out.

You look at Sana and whisper, "maybe we save this for another night."

Sana sits on the bed next to Dahyun and softly strokes her hair away from her face, watching her lovingly, "you're right, I'll be fine with her, go get some rest."

You head to your room where for the first time this tour you would be sleeping in your own bed.

[imfearlessfics]

Chapter 4: The Tour 

Song: Choices by LESSERAFIM, Dreams Come True by aespa

Pairing: Yunjin x female reader

Genre: Romance, forbidden love

Warnings: none

Vocabulary: unnie = older sister, refers to older female with whom you're close, maknae = youngest member of the group

Word count: 2.2k

Peeling my eyes away from Yunjin long enough to come back to reality was agonizing. I can’t tell if I made up some cosmic connection just now or if I could see her eyes glistening as well, but I can dwell on that later. Either way, it doesn’t really matter considering this meeting is still in session. 

“Hi, I’m Yunjin! It’s so nice to meet you! You’re from the states, right? It’ll be nice to have someone new to share some stories with!” She shakes my hand and chuckles and my heart snaps in two. She’s just as kind as I’d hoped she’d be. Too often you hear stories about people meeting their idols and being horribly disappointed, but she’s so warm and welcoming that I almost feel like I belong. 

“Yeah, I’m from the states! t’s nice to meet you too.” My face is beet-red, and the butterflies in my stomach are so wild I swear she can probably hear the fluttering of wings. She’s just so pretty. 

The girls make their way to the table while everyone fills them in, and I can feel myself staring at her. It would be truly pointless to try to find a flaw, and I can’t help but curse the universe for pouring every ounce of effort into this one woman and leaving the rest of us to pale in comparison. But as welcoming as she is, I can’t help but to feel so small right now. These women have inspired me - been my driving force - for months now, and here we are in the same room together. I still can’t even wrap my brain around landing such an incredible position! I know it will take time to truly feel like I belong, but for now, I will relish the fact that I get to be around such strong women day in and day out.  

The meeting drones on for another hour, and by the end of it, my brain is fried. I get ready to pack up my things when President Hwang pipes up, “Y/n, you can go set your things in the girls’ dorm for now, and then you can start your tour of the building with them.” With them?! Like…alone, with them?! Can my heart catch a break?! 

“Yeah, follow us y/n! We will make sure you know your way around.” Sakura chimes. It’s hard to feel worried around her - she’s such a ray of sunshine. Plus, it’s not like it’s her fault that I’m absolutely starstruck right now. 

As I’m about to pick up my laptop case, Yunjin’s hand reaches down and brushes mine like we’re in some sort of rom-com. She’s really gonna carry my case for me? She could stand to be less perfect, then I might actually have a shot of not becoming even more enamored with her. I start to say that I can grab it myself, but she insists.   

“Oh my gosh please, let me. You’re taking on a lot by working with us, so this is the least I can do!” She says with a smile on her face. I know my cheeks flush, and I catch Eunchae looking at the two of us out of the corner of my eye, each of us with one hand still on the case. I quickly remove my hand and look away - I don’t think anyone can see how much Yunjin affects me yet, but I have to be safe. I can’t risk my career this early in the game. 

I gather up the rest of my things and we all file out of the room and into the hallway. This building is massive, and it’s a little overwhelming how many celebrities’ faces are plastered everywhere. 

We make our way to their dorm on the second floor. They open the door, and I can’t help but feel like I’m intruding on something very private. I look around expecting to see awards lining the shelves or stage outfits hanging on gold racks, but the living room is … normal. Just like you’d expect a typical apartment to look like. There’s some clothes scattered about, books on a shelf in the corner, and a couple dishes on the counter. Nothing out of the ordinary, and in that moment, they all become so much more human. At the core of it all, they’re just young women following their dreams, and I feel a huge sense of relief. 

“Where do you wanna start, y/n? The studios? The practice rooms? There’s a lot to see, and we have plenty of time.” Kazuha says with a kind smile. 

“Have you eaten, y/n? It’s been a pretty busy morning for you, so we can all grab some food real quick and then head on the tour?” Chaewon suggests. Everyone starts to agree, throwing out different cafes in the building when Eunchae interrupts.

“Oh my gosh! I completely forgot that I have a performance check-in tomorrow, and really need to practice and get some feedback.” She would almost be believable if it wasn’t for a little glint in her eye that only I seem to catch. 

“What are you talking about? Didn’t you have your check-in earlier in the -” Chaewon starts to mention, but Eunchae cuts her off again. 

“No! No, you must be thinking of the week before. I really should get a little feedback to make sure I’m ready, though, so maybe one of us can hang back with y/n to grab a snack, and we can all meet up in a few?” I don’t know if it’s a maknae thing, but this has “ulterior motive” written all over it. There’s no way she would just “forget” about a check-in with their choreographer, but she is adamant, and I want to know why. 

Sakura starts to say that she will hang behind with me, getting ready to turn my way when Eunchae stops her, “Oh no, that won’t do, I think I especially need some notes from you. Hey, here’s a totally random thought! Maybe since Yunjin unnie and y/n are both from the states, they can hang for a little! I personally think that is a great idea and there’s really not enough time to go back and forth about it so let’s go! See you two in a bit!” Everyone chuckles at her urgency, but no one seems to think this is out of the norm. Definitely a maknae thing. She’s up to something for sure, but I can’t help the rush of excitement that fills me at the thought of one-on-one time with Yunjin, so I brush it off.

Yunjin laughs in exasperation at their maknae’s antics, but as the four of them walk out, she turns to me and just shrugs her shoulders. “She’s usually pretty weird, but even I don’t understand that girl sometimes.” She grabs a sweater and her bag and notices that I’ve barely moved in the last 5 minutes. “Y/n, you can relax now. This is your new home! You can set down your things, I promise we don’t mind.” 

“I think I’m still a little starstruck, to be honest.” I admit, “I don’t wanna sound weird or anything, but I’m a huge fan of yours…” I trail off because I feel too exposed, but she doesn’t seem like the type to judge, so I continue. “There was a long time where I didn’t think I would ever leave my hometown, and I just felt so…trapped? I guess? And then I heard your guys’ music for the first time and I just, I don’t know, I just felt kinda free.” She looks genuinely interested in what I have to say, and I know I shouldn’t feel the pitter-patter of my heart so strongly because of that, but I don’t know if it’s up to me at this point. “Moving here was my way of hitting the restart button, ya know? Just starting from scratch and doing something I’m actually passionate about for once. Does that make sense?” I realize I just word vomited for no reason, and immediately feel embarrassed. I look down and chuckle, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. You definitely didn’t ask to hear any of that.” 

She looks at me with warmth in her eyes. “Y/n, if anyone can understand that, it’s me. Please don’t feel embarrassed about sharing that kind of stuff with me. There was a long time where I didn’t know if it would be possible for me to pursue my dreams either, but music is what got me through. I don’t think it’s weird at all that you felt inspired by us - I’m actually really flattered.” Yeah, she definitely doesn’t realize the effect her kindness is having on me, but I don’t really want to cry in front of the woman I’m low-key crushing on, so I try to break up the atmosphere. 

“Thank you for not making me feel weird about…telling you my life story.” She chuckles, and some of the heaviness dissipates. “I’m really excited to get to work with you all, and I hope I can stick around for a while. Did you want to grab a snack before we catch up with the other girls?”

“Yeah, that sounds great” She makes sure I have my things, and we head to a little cafe on the first floor before making our way to the practice rooms.

“I figure it’ll be easier if we’re all in the same area of the building, plus you can get a feel for the space so you can plan out the best way to film the videos.” She explains. We ended up getting something small from the cafe, but I can barely focus on forming sentences right now, let alone choke down a whole meal! And even though I’m terribly nervous to be alone with Yunjin, something about this feels seamless. She’s so easy going, and she’s going out of her way to make sure I don’t feel too overwhelmed on my first day. Making sure we go to the least busy cafe, taking backways to avoid bumping into too many new people. She already feels like a friend I’ve known forever, but something deep inside me feels a twinge at the word “friend”, and I internally scold myself for that ridiculous feeling. This is just a little crush born from all the excitement of your first day. She’s beautiful and friendly (and perfect) and you’re overwhelmed by all the changes going on in your life right now. That is all this is. 

We finally make it to the practice rooms, and she opens the door to one of them to let me inside. It’s kinda crazy to see this in person. I’ve seen countless videos filmed from inside these rooms, and now, it’s basically my office! 

“So most of our dance practice videos are taken in this room, but sometimes we film in the bigger rooms for the like … dance challenges or if we’re doing a TikTok trend or something. I can show you that one later, but that might be where Eunchae and the girls are right now. For now, do you wanna set down your stuff, and we can try filming something right now? I don’t know if you need to like … adjust the lighting or find a certain spot in the room or something. I’m not a professional like you.” She chuckles and looks almost…bashful? I have to be making that up, so I rid my mind of the thought. 

“Yunjin, I think it’s safe to say that you’re the professional out of the two of us. You’re an idol, and I’m just barely starting my career! But you’re right, it would be good to get a feel for the room and what spots will be best to film in. Lemme just get my camera set up.”

I fiddle with my camera while she goes to the computer to put on some music, and “Choices” starts playing through the speakers, but instead of doing the official choreography, she does something completely unexpected. She’s flailing her arms, pretending to twerk, and leaping around the room, and I start laughing hysterically. 

“Come on, y/n, let’s see your moves. I know it might be hard to keep up since I’m an idol, but I gotta see what you can do” She calls out, still running around the room like someone who’s never even heard the word “choreography”. I stare in disbelief at this woman who’s a certified trained professional. A woman who probably took classes in poise, grace, and presentability. A woman who is making a fool of herself just so that I can let my guard down and enjoy this experience. 

I carefully set my camera down and hurry over to join her in the center of the room, both of us dancing like morons and just appreciating a moment between two newfound friends living their dreams. 

We are laughing and moving around so much that we don’t notice the 4 girls peeking in through the window on the door, wondering what on earth has gotten into us. Eunchae is the first to pop in, almost immediately joining in on the chaos. The other girls are soon to follow, and soon we are all having the time of our lives just messing around. 

And in the midst of utter nonsense, I realize then and there: I’m gonna be okay. 

____________________________________________________________

Hi everyone! I'm sorry it's been over a week; I was having some health issues, so I couldn't get to my laptop for a bit! I hope you enjoy this next chapter :) Lemme know what you think of it so far!

Also! When the dialogue is italicized, it's happening in Korean. If it's not italicized, it's in English!

[handsomelyhiddleston]

Dark Queen, Bright King - Tom Hiddleston x Emo/Alt Reader

You and Tom were different. At your core you shared many interests and values as well as your playful natures and senses of humor, but if someone were to see you walking down the street together, they might have a few questions.

“What are you going to wear on the show?” you asked your now husband. You and Tom had been married for nearly a month after dating for about two years and he had finally convinced you to let him introduce you to the world.

“I don’t know, actually.” Tom sat down on the couch next to you and pulled you into his side. “I can’t decide between wearing the most colorfully obnoxious outfit I could get away with or pulling a Ragnarok and wearing head to toe black.”

You laughed, dragging your finger up and down Tom’s thigh. “I can’t lie, the black-on-black suit does make me feel a way…”

“Of course, you pick the black suit.” Tom teased, pulling you into a heated kiss as your fingers trailed dangerously close to his manhood.

You turned to straddle Tom’s lap, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. His hands couldn’t stay still, moving from your legs to your ass to your waist. “I didn’t pick the black suit.” You said, leaning forward to press kisses across his jaw and down his neck. “I think you should wear one of your stunning bright suits.”

“But you said…” Tom tried to reply, already having a hard time staying on topic.

“I said it makes me feel a way.” You pushed Tom’s shirt down his arms and ran your hands slowly up his torso.  “What you’re forgetting…” you pulled your shirt over your head to reveal a black lace bra, “is that you’re always making me fall further and more in love with you just by being you.”

Tom pulled you tighter to him, pressing sloppy kisses to your breasts. “God, I love you.”

The two of you could never keep your hands off of each other. This was the second time TODAY you’d made love. Slowly. Lazily. Just happy to be in each other’s embrace.

As you laid against his chest, still on the couch, and let your breathing slow back to normal you looked up at your husband. “I fell in love with you exactly as you are.” You traced invisible patterns softly into Tom’s chest with your fingertip. “I love how bold and bright and charismatic you are. I love that you like classical music and how excited you get when people ask you questions about Shakespeare and that you’re always the most polite person in the room. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

You could feel a laugh rumble in Tom’s chest. He pulled your hand to his lips and gently kissed it. “I’m ever grateful for that.” Tom twirled a piece of your hair between his fingers as he spoke. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you, either. I can’t wait to tell the world how much I love you.”

“How are you going to break the news that the actor behind everyone’s favorite trickster has finally settled down?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.” Tom smirked.

The two of you had met on a Broadway show set. You were in charge of make-up and costume design, and you’d hit it off with Tom straight away.

At first, he found you intriguing. Your style spectrum went from absolute tomboy to fitted dresses, but the color black was the common denominator. You had various tattoos sprawled across your skin and there really was no way to know what color hair you’d show up with the following day. He loved how sure of yourself you were and how little you worried over what those around you may or may not be thinking.

Little did he know, you thought the same of him. First, he was the most attractive person in the room whether he was wearing a ten-thousand-dollar suit or a pair of black joggers and a t-shirt. He always commanded the room with his bright disposition and you’d never once seen him have a diva moment. He was intelligent…not only with information, but emotionally.

One day after a show, while you were gently removing his stage make-up, he kept smiling up at you.

“What’s got you so happy?” you asked.

“Well, we’ve got a week break. First real break we’ve had since the show started.” His answer made sense, but you noticed his cheeks were blushing.

“You get a whole week without having to deal with me smearing things all over your face” you teased, throwing the make-up remover wipes away.

Tom cleared his throat. “I was actually hoping we could make plans?” He reached out and grabbed one of your hands in both of his.

It took you a second to realize he was being serious. “Is Mr. polite and proper asking me on a date?”

Tom laughed, ducking his head. “That depends on whether or not Ms. dark and spooky is willing to give Mr. polite and proper a chance.”

The two of you ended up spending the entire week together. You talked about film scores and music. Horror movie classics and period pieces. Your favorite projects that you’ve worked on. Friends and family. Even though the two of you looked so different, you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. That brought you to this moment, with your husband about to tell the world about your existence.

The Graham Norton show is filmed on a Thursday and aired on a Friday. You were surprised that no one had leaked the news between filming and airing.

“Welcome to the show TOM HIDDLESTON!” The audience, as usual, went wild. Graham always loved teasing Tom and making him blush, so when Tom reached out to let Graham know he wanted to announce something important and that he wanted to do it on the show, Graham booked it immediately.

“Welcome back, Tom.”

“Thanks for having me” Tom answered, greeting everyone else on the couch with him including Eddie Redmayne and Kenneth Branagh.

They talked for a minute about Tom’s latest projects and such.

“So, Tom. I hear you’ve had a lot of big things happen this year?” Graham was genuinely curious what Tom was going to announce.

“That I have.” Tom replied, looking to be thinking about them. “I mean, one…I bought a house outside of London.”

“Wonderful, wonderful. What else?” Graham continued.

“Oh, I also experienced my first mosh pit” he said so casually.

“You did what, dear?” Kenneth interjected.

“Why wasn’t I invited to this?” Eddie asked, laughing at everyone’s reaction. Eddie obviously already knew what Tom was going to announce as him and Tom had been friends since they were teenagers. Eddie was at the wedding, even.

“Hold up! Hold up.” Graham said, waving his arms. “How on God’s green earth did you end up in a mosh pit?”

“Well, thankfully I didn’t end up IN it. For my first go, I just stood very very close to it.” Tom explained, making the room laugh.

Kenneth turned to Tom. “Why were you anywhere near it?”

“Well, my wife had been asking me to go to one of…” Tom started explaining.

Graham did a dramatic double take before reaching out and grabbing Tom’s arm, interrupting his story. “Did you say your wife?”

“Yes, my wife y/n. She loves this band Bring Me The Horizon, and her friend couldn’t make it to the show so she asked me if I would go with her.” Tom had the biggest smile on his face, finally being able to talk about you.

“Screw the mosh pit and the house near London, I want to hear about your wife!” Graham pushed.

“Well, I guess the biggest thing that happened this year was that I married the love of my life.” Tom blushed, looking back at the screen. He had given the production team a few photos to show.

On screen first was a photo from your wedding. You were in a beautiful, gothy, black, long-sleeve, plunge neckline, lace dress and Tom was in an amazing dark red suit with a black shirt.

“You two look incredible.” Graham complimented, watching the photo change.

“Thank you, she’s a million times cooler than I am.” Tom laughed. “But for some reason she agreed to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The second photo was a candid photo from the greenroom where you met. You were concentrating on getting Tom’s stage make-up perfect and he was just staring at you, adoration clear on his face.

“As you can see, I was smitten.” Tom pointed out.

“Is that how you met?” Graham asked. Tom told the story and explained how long the two of you had been dating, then engaged, and then married.

“I’m surprised you were able to keep it private for so long” Graham commented.

As the final photo came up, Tom started explaining. “This is a photo of Y/n at one of my family gatherings.” It was a photo of you on the living room floor with his nieces and nephews. You were laying on your stomach and painting all of the kid’s nails. “We had only been together for a little over a month I believe. We had just concluded the show where we met, and I asked her to come to London with me. She was so nervous.”

“Well, it looks like she had no reason to worry.” Graham said.

“Not at all. The kids never left her side.” Tom replied, smiling as he looked at the photo. “Everyone loved her. Everyone that meets her loves her, to be honest.”

“Well, when she’s ready you’ll have to bring her on the show.” Graham suggested.

“I think having you two in a room together would be dangerous.” Tom laughed.

“Whatever could you mean?” Graham tried to act innocent, and Tom just raised his eyebrows and gave him a *you know what you did* look. “Fine, no fanfiction involved. Honest to God.”

Everyone laughed and the show moved onto Kenneth after Tom received many congratulations.

[luminnara]

The Dismemberment Song | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words: 3,791

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club.

PART ONE | PART TWO |

WARNINGS: graphic blood/gore/violence, reader may or may not torture and murder a guy, alcohol, all that good Gotham stuff, reader is kinda fucked up

Seriously, don’t read this if you don’t like blood

Based on The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid! 

This is written as a kinda vague fem!reader, but if there’s interest I can always write alternate versions for different genders, more specific body/personality types, or whatever else might tickle your fancy! Just hit up my ask box!

Requests are open!! Pls, I really wanna write more Zsasz or Zsaszmask x reader, gimme ideas!

The Black Mask was a club that boasted only the best of the best. Top shelf booze, luxurious furnishings, and entertainers that Gotham’s other club owners wished they could get their hands on all came together to form the East End’s trendiest spot. You were lucky enough to be one of those very entertainers, and you had been performing onstage at Roman’s club ever since one of his goons saw you dancing at another spot across town. Roman Sionis had bought you easily, promising a good nightly wage and all the free drinks you could stomach, and a few years later, you were still enjoying the nice gig at the Black Mask. 

Most nights were the same; you showed up around seven, hung around in the dressing room with the others while you all got ready, and enjoyed a drink or two before your first number. You were always in the chorus, not that you really minded--Roman paid you more than enough to keep you happy, even though you knew the stars got more. Girls who did solo numbers, especially if they could sing, those were Mr. Sionis’s favorites. You never really expected to achieve that kind of status, not when people like Dinah Lance were around and holding his attention, so when Roman pulled you aside one night to tell you that he wanted to give you the chance to do your own routine, you nearly dropped your drink. 

“Full creative control,” he said, a hand resting at the small of your back as you gaped at him. 

“I--what?” you managed to choke out. “I-I mean, thank you, Mr. Sionis, really--”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Call me Roman.”

“Thank you, Roman,” you smiled, swallowing down your fear. “I won’t disappoint you, I swear.” 

“I know you won’t, doll.” he motioned for someone to bring him a drink. “Full creative control, like I said. I want to see what’s swirling around in that pretty mind of yours. Put some heart into it for me, k doll?”

You nodded. “You got it, boss.”

He grinned, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss against your temple like he did with all the girls he liked. “Looking forward to it, beautiful.”

He let you go, turning to leave, and Zsasz slunk after him, but not before casting you an almost annoyed look. 

“Don’t disappoint,” he teased, whistling low before he followed his boss. 

You gulped. You were sure he wouldn’t mind peeling your face off, but you rather preferred staying alive.

“I won’t!” you called after him bravely. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes practically boring into you as if were sizing you up. He thought you were just some prissy little girl, didn’t he? Just like Roman, just like everybody else. But you would show them. They wanted to see what kind of shit really ate at your brain? Oh, you’d give them a nice little glimpse.

And so, only a couple shorts weeks later, here you were, getting ready in the dressing room like usual, only you were far more nervous than you had been for any other shift. You had busted your ass getting everything ready, even taking a few nights off to work twice as hard on what you hoped would be a good debut. You had given the band their sheet music, you had learned your lyrics inside and out (because you were absolutely determined to go that extra mile for Roman Sionis and show him that not only could you prance around onstage, but you could sing, too), and you had spent hours upon hours hand-decorating an old corset and lingerie set you had sitting around. Roman wanted this to come from the heart, he wanted a passion project, and you were gonna give it to him. 

You just had to pray that he was in the right mood to enjoy it.

“Think you’re good to go, my love,” the house mom said as she finished with your hair. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror. So far, so good...your hair was in big barrel curls, still warm to the touch as your house mom gave it a couple more passes with the hairspray for good measure. 

“You sure I don’t need--”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” she interrupted, retreating to her usual chair. 

You kept staring at your reflection. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean...”

She laughed loudly. “Hon, this is Gotham. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you weren’t so sure. “But...”

“But nothing. Now go on, go show Roman why he stays in business.”

You stood on shaky legs, nodding to her as you made your way towards the door. “R-right.”

“Break a leg,” she called after you. 

All you could do was nod. You knew what you were doing. You had practiced for hours every day to get ready for this. With a deep breath, you made your way down the hall leading to stage, shaking your hands out as you stood in the wings. You could do this. You were ready.

As soon as your stage name was announced, you stepped out, ruby encrusted heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. The lights were harsh, the crowd quiet as you came out to face them. The stage was set for you, a few props already waiting for you as you stood there, ready for the music to start.

Then, the band began playing, and you sprang into action.

“Hold still, my sweet. I’m tryin to measure the space between your molar and your jaw...” You sang, lunging forward to grab the medical-grade calipers sitting in a metal bucket for you. You trailed them down over your victim’s jaw, smiling as you did so. “...This caliper, no cause for fear. No it...it doesn’t hurt, it only helps me measure how much skin you have...”

Across the club, Zsasz looked up. He was standing near Roman, his boss sitting in a booth while he chatted with some business associates. He was far more interested in you than their conversation, his dark eyes tracking you as you moved across the stage. He was absolutely enthralled by your outfit, your tightly-laced corset covered in blood red rhinestones that glimmered under the stage lights, your matching bra and thong shining just as brightly. You looked like you were covered in blood, the gems catching his eye in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“--and the topmost layer of fat, but I won’t make an incision till you’re nice and numb...” There was an operating table on the stage, where one of Roman’s lowest-ranking goons was tied down. If Zsasz remembered correctly, this guy had fucked up pretty monumentally recently, so seeing him strapped down and struggling brought a grin to his face.

You ran over to the man, the crowd laughing as you leaned across him. “...Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun, please don’t doubt my decision...”

The scene you had set was both comedic and sexual. In all honesty, Zsasz hadn’t expected you to do anything like this; you were a chorus girl, someone he had thought would go for something overdone and classic. Maybe some old school stupid, annoying, Singin In The Rain type shit, yet there you were, dressed in an outfit that was obviously meant to emulate dripping blood while you flitted around a man on a gurney. 

Zsasz couldn’t look away. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee!” you squealed, teasingly pressing your sawblade to the goon’s torso. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

You grabbed the goon as he struggled against his restraints, holding him down. Zsasz was sure the man was in on your little number, and he thought it was cute; you were pretending to be some sort of killer, maybe trying to appeal to Roman’s face peely urges. Maybe you were trying to make the boss happy by scaring his lackey like this.

“So don’t you squirm, don't you fret, I'm not gonna hurt you...yet.” You grinned, leaning down before you shoved the man’s face to the side, letting him go as you ran back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of blood lettin’, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading...”

You pranced back to the gurney, moving with that little extra theatrical oomph that made everyone think you were just playing. You smiled as they clapped and laughed loudly. They would figure it out soon enough. 

“Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me...” you cooed, discarding the calipers in favor of a scalpel. You traced it down the goon’s bare chest, a little line of blood following the blade as it pierced his flesh. 

He let out a scream, just as you hoped he would, and you gave his little table a shove, sending it wheeling a short distance away. 

“Now don’t you cry,” You sang, “And don’t call Miriam, she’s my alibi...oh let me check your toes out!” You picked up a set of pliers, taking hold of his big toe. “Aren’t your toenails cute?” you grabbed one and pulled, the goon screaming as you removed the nail, leaving a bloody pulp behind. “...and red is such a lovely color on you!” you leaned down in his face, grabbing the opposite foot’s big toenail and yanking. “...But you won’t be needing those!”

Roman began clapping, giving a loud “Whoo!”  as he watched you. He had no idea that when you had asked him for the name of his least favorite henchman, this would be the reason. Now, watching the man suffer onstage in front of everyone while you were dancing around him in six inch heels and a scandalously skimpy outfit, Sionis was more than entertained. He was impressed, absolutely astounding by the cruelty his little burlesque dancer held inside of her. He couldn’t have hoped for more. 

“When you’ve got no knees!” you sang, dropping your weapons in favorite of a crowbar. “...Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries....”

You brought your weapon down on each of the man’s legs, somehow still managing to poise yourself perfectly as you did so. You gave him a few good whacks, then dropped the bar, leaning down to pick a knife up out of the bucket and run it over his hands teasingly. 

“...so hold still while I remove them!” you trilled. 

The man tried to sit up, struggling against his restraints, but you shoved him back down with a sweet smile. 

“...Oh, and don’t fight back,” you sang, hopping up to sit next to him. “I think you’ll find you’re missing the point, with that.”

Meanwhile, Victor Zsasz was grinning, showing off his gold teeth while he watched you. He kept a close eye on your hips as they swayed, his trained eyes following your ass as it moved across the stage. Were you really carving a man up right then and there? He wanted it to be true. He wanted to smell the overwhelming tang of blood as you plunged a knife into your victim. But he was too far away, and so he had to settle for watching instead. 

Your victim tried to scream, and you shoved his head to the side playfully. 

“That’s enough outta you!” you sang, holding his jaw tightly.

As you repeated your chorus, your knife returned to the man’s flesh and he grunted in pain, pleading to an audience that didn’t care about him. The Black Mask was a fucked up place for fucked up people, no matter how trendy it was, and nobody in the audience was going to protest when someone was torn apart onstage. Besides, Roman Sionis was far too powerful for the GCPD to go after, and as you heard him laughing loudly in the audience, you had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to send anyone after you for carving somebody up in a way that only you could.

You kept going, peeling your underbust corset off with the same grace and dexterity that Zsasz peeled faces with. As you stood in only your bra, thong, garters and stockings, you felt exhilarated, powerful, as if you had been born to cur people up in front of an audience. 

It’s not like this was your first time chopping a body up, anyways; there was a reason you had to move to Gotham and get a new gig, after all.

Zsasz watched you. In fact, his eyes were glued to you, even when Roman walked away to chat with a few mob bosses in a nearby booth. Were you seriously killing this man right in front of everyone? Victor didn’t necessarily care for all the theatrics, but he could appreciate how seriously you took you took your craft, and he had to admit, he was surprised that this was what you had come up with when Roman told you to give him something good.

“‘Cause I’m all out of hurt, you’ve used up all I’ve got,” you taunted, sneering down at your victim as you brought your saw down on his leg. “So I’m chopping you up and still coming up squat! If I want it to bleed, I’ll just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw and saw...”

The blade cut back and forth, and Zsasz’s eyes followed it. Blood was spurting up, drenching your arms as if you were wearing red opera gloves. 

“And saw, and saw, and saw, and saw....”

“Zsasz, can you believe this?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“No, boss,” Zsasz said with a little grin, shaking his head. 

“She’s good. We may have to give her a new job...”

You paused, giving your victim a break as you tossed the saw back into the bucket, drops of blood spattering across the stage as you pulled out a large butcher knife. Before it could touch Roman’s henchman, you used it to flick open the clasp on your bra, tossing the thin little piece of lingerie out into the crowd. You didn’t really care where it went; you were too busy enjoying yourself. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee,” you purred, trailing the blade down the side of the man’s face. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

“So don’t you squirm, don’t you fret, I’m not gonna hurt you, oh no, no, no, not...yet.” you plunged your blade into his chest, between two of his ribs, not close enough to knick his heart but definitely deep enough to cause him immense pain despite all the adrenaline that was sure to be running through his system now.

You pulled the knife back out, blood dripping off the metal blade as you held it tightly and pranced back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of bloodletting, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading but there’s one thing you’re forgetting...”

Turning back to him, you brought the blade to his throat, and in the crowd, Zsasz’s eyes lit up. He was delighted. He was enthralled. His pants were getting a little tight, but whatever. The rest of the audience was gazing up at you with wonder, disgust, amusement...but Zsasz was absolutely admiring the way you so confidently played with your victim. The theatrics were starting to grow on him, he decided, and he wanted nothing more than to go right up there and lick all that blood off your face.

“There’s nothing like the thrill of a shredding,” you sang, almost snarling, “but this is no orthodox beheading...”

You destroyed the man on the gurney, carving through him, drenching yourself in blood in an almost comical way. 

“Cutting you up,” you sang as you made an absolute mess. “Cutting you up...”

“Cutting you up is gonna be....” you finally stepped back, catching your breath as the song slowed. “...so refreshing for me.”

As your routine finished, you took a little bow, still holding the knife as you crossed your ankles and bent at the waist in a delightfully fancy gesture. The man on the gurney was very much dead, blood dripping down onto the stage, and the audience was still eating up every second of it. You could hear Roman cheering, and as you spotted him standing there amidst the crowd with Zsasz at his side, you blew them both a little kiss. 

“How about that?” you heard Roman’s voice boom above the clapping as you strode offstage. “I would call for an encore, but unfortunately, I think we’d need a new victim....”

Your head was still abuzz with the rush of killing, and you walked back to the dressing room in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Dinah Lance wrinkling her nose as you passed her, but you didn’t pay her any mind. Absolutely nothing could kill your good mood now. 

“Well?” the house mom asked as you made your way to your mirror. “Sounds like it went well, judging by those cheers...”

You smiled and hummed to yourself, nodding as you reached for something to clean your face with. You were going to need an entire shower to get all this blood off yourself. 

“Told you.” the house mom snorted a laugh. 

“He loved it,” you grinned. 

She shook her head in amusement. “You are one fucked up girl, I’ll tell you that much.”

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you joked, raising a towel to start working at wiping your face. 

“Oh, pussycat?” a singsong voice made you freeze. 

You could see Zsasz in the mirror. 

He was leaning in the doorway, smirking as he watched you. “Boss wants to talk.”

You paled. Had you fucked up after all? Did Roman get his shits and giggles and now planned on having Zsasz peel your face off? Sionis was infamous for his fickle moods. You’d watched him have plenty of people dragged off into back rooms just for speaking at the wrong time, and you had just done way worse than interrupt him. 

 You gawked at Zsasz, still staring at his reflection. What were you supposed to do? Run? He was blocking the only door, and there was no way you’d be able to get past him. You had no choice but to follow him to Roman. 

“O-Okay,” you managed to stammer out, finally turning towards him. “Lead the way.”

“Might want this.” he held up the bra you had tossed, twirling the strap around his finger while he gave you a smile that showed off his gold teeth.

“Give me that!” you snapped, rushing towards him.

“Ah.” he held it above his head, leering down at you. “Think I like this view more...”

“Zsasz!” you protested, scrambling against his chest and practically trying to claw your way up him to get your lingerie. 

He froze. He finally smelled the metallic tang of all that blood covering you, and coupled with the feeling of your tits against his chest...oh, he was so fucked. 

When he dropped the bra, you grabbed it from him, tossing it back to your mirror and moving to pick up a silky red robe off a nearby hook. You shrugged it on, tying it shut while Zsasz cleared his throat and offered you his arm. 

“Such a gentleman,” you sneered, taking it anyways. 

“When I want to be.” his voice was low and rough, as if his vocal chords were scraping against each other with every syllable. 

You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded, as he led you out into the club once more. The band was playing as a few people cleaned up the carnage you had left behind, the bar’s patrons all chatting and drinking again. It was as if nothing had even happened and they hadn’t just watched a man be torn apart onstage a few minutes prior. 

Zsasz took you to Roman, the crowd parting before the two of you easily. Sionis was sitting in his favorite booth, sipping his drink and laughing, still seeming to be in a very good mood.

“Ah, there she is!” He said when he saw you, standing up and spreading his arms.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked nervously as Zsasz let you go.

“Yes, yes, I had Mr. Zsasz grab you so that I could congratulate you on a thrilling performance.”

You stared at him. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? I loved it, darling! A bit messy for my tastes, but a lovely show, truly, though I suspect our dear Mr. Zsasz here wishes he could have been the one to take care of your victim. Isn’t that right, Zsasz?”

You glanced up at Zsasz. He grunted, not necessarily in agreement. He didn’t hate watching your performance by any means, and as much as he enjoyed helping little birds fly away from the world, he rather enjoyed watching you do it, too. 

“I’m glad, Mr. Sionis,” you said. 

“I told you, call me Roman.” he took a sip of his drink. “You know, normally, I don’t enjoy it when someone kills the people that belong to me, but I must admit, you certainly have a way with a knife.”

“I would have asked your permission, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” you gulped. 

“And what a lovely surprise it was!” Roman laughed loudly. “You’re very talented...in fact, how’d you like a promotion? Yes? Perfect, perfect! No, no, don’t shake my hand, you’re...well, you’re covered in blood. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.” He snapped his fingers. “Mr. Zsasz, take her up to the penthouse so she can clean up, I don’t want all this blood getting on the new carpeting in here.”

“Oh, Mr. Sio--Roman,” you cleared your throat, “I can use the shower in the dressing room, really, it’s no trouble--”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” he waved you away. “You’re part of the team now, aren’t you? Besides, a job well done deserves some sort of reward. Zsasz will show you upstairs. Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless.”

As Zsasz put a hand on your lower back, you had your doubts. Harmless wasn’t really a word you would choose to describe Roman’s right hand man. 

“Come on, princess.” Zsasz purred, guiding you through the crowd before you had much of a chance to protest. 

He took you to the elevator in the corner, the bouncer standing guard in front of it stepping aside with a nod. The man hit the up button, and soon, you were pressed up against Zsasz in the small space, on your way up to Roman’s spacious penthouse. 

[captainkirbypunch]

My love has left tumblr once again.

As many of you may know, the account under the name MDZADR, has left tumblr. They felt unsafe in their fandom, and as such have deleted their tumblr and AO3 account due to the bad memories linked to them.

As a part of their departure, they have asked me to post something in their name, as follows.

If you want more details about how I came to this realization, continue to read. If not, here is your summary:

TL;DR: For the safety and health of this fandom, I wanted to spread the word that Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and MelodyoftheVoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don’t “ship zadr correctly.” She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is. 

Full story below.

I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. Nobody did anything to me today, but this just wasn’t worth it.

My AO3 and tumblr are both gone. I didn’t say goodbye because I didn’t want to look like an attention seeker.

Here’s the thing. I wasn’t going to name drop, but you guys need to know the truth. I’m instructing my boyfriend (hi y’all) to turn asks off for his own safety after this because this is going to be a nightmare, but... allow me to tell you the full story. I’ll try to break up the text so it’s less difficult to read, but this is important. I’m sorry to air discourse so publicly, but please... I need you to listen to me.

I’ll start from the beginning, without being vague anymore about who “she” is. I request that you please read the whole thing and not skip parts of it. The whole story matters.

I finally returned to the fandom about two months or so ago. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t do well in my thoughts while left alone too long, so I posted saying I would stop messaging people I knew because I didn’t want to bother them. There were only two people I was talking to at the time, but one of them is famous so I didn’t want to message her directly saying that. Doing so would have put her in a position of feeling obligated to say “you’re not bothering me” rather than just simply being able to sigh with relief from no longer being contacted. 

But the first person to contact me was the famous person, and she asked if I was okay, and told me she liked talking to me.

God, I actually cried.

But, that’s just her. Melodyofthevoid is the type of person to talk to people in the fandom, totally unaware of her demigod status. She comments on stories, interacts on posts, messages first... a pillar of kindness, so it seemed.

But let the story continue.

Over time, we were talking more often. 

Mostly sending memes (cause everyone I knew, myself included, aren’t exactly great at holding conversations. No shade. Memes are a love language). I was still in the hero worship stage of our relationship, so my view of her was that that was perfect.

Now, let me bridge a connection with a new story idea I got around December 28th or so, and my thinking she was perfect.

I had recently finished watching Madoka and questioned “If I had magical powers, what would they be?” It then turned into its own story idea, basing creators’ powers around the strengths and weaknesses in creations. I actually realized “oh fuck. My stuff is incoherent. My friends’ works aren’t too different...”

Thus spawned the name “Incoherent” for the project.

What does that have to do with this? Well, here’s the thing that really fucked everything up quickly. 

This was not on purpose, because originally the project (which I had told nobody of yet at the time) was all about improving your works, making platonic friends, dressing our personas in cute outfits, and writing fun magic.

While listening to music and thinking of the story one day, my brain accidentally shipped my persona with hers, and I couldn’t unsee it. And I’m lousy at keeping my own secrets (other’s are different) so she found out on probably day one or two about my weird crush because of an ask meme of all things. 

She didn’t try to put me off any, which was another problem for future things to come, and so I decided that since Incoherent was finally making me feel alive again and feeling the euphoric feelings of love wouldn’t hurt anything (I figured they’d mellow out on their own eventually because that’s how infatuation works) since they helped fuel my inspiration, and then we would just continue from friends to better friends one day and this part of our lives would be over.

Besides, the forbidden is attractive somehow, and makes stories more entertaining. She’s aro/ace, so I had no chance anyway. Someone safe to crush on, in her own way.

This isn’t a story of a love betrayal however. There was no such thing. But it’s important to the story because Incoherent is where my mistakes were made, and hers brought to light.

By this time, I had a handful of people I was talking to, and I created a discord server for the project. Only my boyfriend (hi!) and I were in it at the time. I was not-so-subtly asking my friends what they’d look like if they were a magical person, what their names would be... I thought I would have had to lure Melody in to make her want to join us, but I managed to get her in very easily. Everyone was happy and excited! It was a no obligation, no time limit thing for us to enjoy, a little sandbox to play around in. 

Sure there were plans to make it bigger and I was working on art to the best of my ability, but it was gonna be a fun thing mostly. No pressure on anyone.

And how things started becoming a problem was that the rest of us posted publicly about the project and interacted with each other’s posts relating to the story, but she had started to interact publicly less and less with our things, and everyone noticed it.

It wasn’t because we were greedy and wanted the popular girl to reblog our things. It’s because we had a feeling she was ashamed of being seen publicly with us. The reason we were worried before then and started making that connection was because I mentioned I was going to ask another user if they were interested in joining Incoherent. Melody was the only one that seemed uncomfortable, and I messaged her asking about it. We agreed I wouldn’t invite that person but I knew things were off about it.

That person is like me. How long until Melody didn’t want to talk to me anymore? A few days ago, the other shoe finally dropped. A member of our little group and I were talking and (let’s call them Friend for simplicity. They asked to not be name dropped here) Friend was worried they had made Melody upset by tagging her in a meme picture they drew of her persona, and the two had agreed that Friend remove the tag. This spawned an anxiety-filled conversation where Friend and I expressed our concerns about Melody not interacting with the project, or us.

So since I wanted reassurance that that wasn’t the case, I messaged Melody with my concerns. I told her I had the feeling she was ashamed of being seen in public with us because of her friends, and she didn’t refute me. She simply told me to go get some rest. I messaged back with “I’m right.”

I deleted Discord off my phone for hours and nearly deleted my Tumblr, AO3, and the server after my boyfriend helped pass messages between us. Melody confessed that was the case because her friends expressed discomfort with my works, and she was playing both sides.

Her words, not mine.

Melody told me she would be withdrawing from the Incoherent project because it wasn’t fair to us if her heart wasn’t in it.

She didn’t stand up on my behalf when they said things about me. Her friends are the type who talk behind creators’ backs for shipping zadr “incorrectly.” Worse than antis because they actually participate in the “pro-shipping” side of the fandom. I broke that day and messaged her at 3 am.

We finally spoke at 3pm. We both missed each other. I tried to understand more. I wanted it to be more like a conversation rather than an interrogation. It was only one-sided however, and she never opened up further. And I made some mistakes and poor choices of words, and we ended up parting ways permanently right there. 

I nearly deleted everything, but much like a coma patient attached to many machines on a hospital bed, my blog was kept alive a little longer by people sending kind words in droves. I was briefly fuelled by spite, wishing to watch the world burn by making everyone on the "correct" side of the fandom upset by posting the worst, most vile content this fandom has ever seen.

I was also welcomed with open arms by a very kind server with fellow degenerates, all of them screaming and crying and partying when they managed to get me in their server. It was so heartwarming...

But as I spoke to others about my situation, I realized something. A disturbing pattern.

People telling me horror stories about how Mooping-10 was cult-like. How the people running it were antis. I was even told once that they have a secondary server where they go to have their talks and do their work, likely the place where the real bashing is held.

The server itself has rules against such behavior, but I suppose it's different when they do it.

One person (and this is the most unnerving part for me, personally) told me Melody actually set off alarm bells in their head without having even done anything yet, and the most disturbing part of the story was that one of the moderators was afraid and upset because they got Covid, and received basically no moral support at all. Only getting told "spoiler that. Sorry you got Covid".

I was horrified. That server has 100 people in it. How many of them are the same? They act like popular kids in school who picked up an unpopular main character and then bash others, and the main character joined in because they don't want to be left behind by their new "friends".

To put it short, back to my point:

TL;DR: I simply only wanted to spread the word that: Mooping-10 is filled with people who absolutely cannot be trusted, creating a very hazardous environment for the zadr community, and Melodyofthevoid is connected to all of those people, living a double life amongst those of us that don't "ship zadr correctly". She has plenty of friends her inner circle knows nothing about, and nobody on either side knows who she really is.

[boldlyanxious]

None the Wiser 6

Masterlist

All fic masterlist

Bio-dad Bruce prompt-Fashion show

Marinette was not expecting her day to go well when Rochelle stepped in front of her before they left the locker room. She had spent a few minutes reorganizing her things before heading off to lunch so she could have what she needed ready for the afternoon and now they were alone in there with not even the sound of others in the hallway.

"I need to talk to you," Rochelle said.

Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked unhappy. Marinette tried to smile even though she was apprehensive.

"What can I do for you?" Marinette responded.

Rochelle pulled out an envelope that Marinette recognised as a response from the fashion competition, but it wasn't like the fancy envelope she received.

"I didn't do very well. I was in the lowest rank."

"I didn't know you entered."

"I didn't tell anyone. I've only been sewing for a couple years and not often."

"Are you wanting pointers?"

"I really want to model. I'll model my own but probably not be noticed. Are you modeling your design?"

Marinette was shocked. She didn't think of using another person as a model mostly because she would usually use Alya but she hadn't made it to fit Alya.

"I don't actually want to. I'm a bit clumsy and it's worse when I get nervous but I made it my size."

"I could do it for you."

Rochelle looked like she wanted to add something but she stopped herself. She stood still while Marinette eyed her then walked around her.

"I think it should work," she said tapping her chin. "I need to touch you for a moment."

She waited for a nod before she pinched a bit at Rochelle's outfit in a few places nodding.

"I don't have a measuring tape with me today. I think our measurements are similar enough aside from the obvious height difference but your additional height is definitely helpful. Can you come over after school today?"

She nodded slowly, "Are you serious? You'll let me model for you?"

"Oh yeah. I was dreading having to do it but you want to and probably already have an idea of what to do if you want to model."

"We aren't really friends though and I haven't been very friendly."

"Well I either missed it or you aren't very good at being unfriendly," she said with a smile.

After they finished with classes they met back at the lockers to walk out together. Marinette took her through the bakery and up through to her room. She was happy with her decision to change her style over the summer so she didn't have an embarrassing amount of Adrien's modeling pictures cut out and plastered everywhere.

She adjusted things so the fold-away screen was set up for changing and pulled out the dress for the fashion show.

"This should work really well. They are good colors for you."

"It's so nice. You are really talented."

"Thank you. I've been working at it a long time."

When Rochelle had the dress on, Marinette checked the fit and made notes for the changes needed. There were no drastic changes and Marinette looked how it looked on the other girl's taller frame. Marinette figured how long it would take to make the alterations and set up a time to do a fitting after that so it would be ready for the show.

---

The day of the show arrived and Marinette feeling like she might not make it. Time kept slowing down so she would dread what was coming and then speeding so fast she couldn't keep up. Her parents didn't know how to get her to sit still and eat something. Bruce would be there as well as Damian and Dick and a couple of Damian's friends. Tim hadn't been able to get away from work and from what they said about Jason she thought maybe they were hiding him until she was more comfortable.

She still hadn't told anyone but Luka about this new family she might have but she was so nervous about the show and him being there that she pulled Alya to the side and told her about meeting him when she went to change during Alya's party.

"Wait, what? That was weeks ago. Is that why you've been acting weird?" Alya asked.

"Well I wasn't sure what was going to happen. My parents thought he might get a lawyer and try to get custody."

"Can he do that?"

"I don't know. We think he probably has more money. His suits are designer and he has made several trips. He will be there today."

"I can't believe you kept this from me! It's so wild. How did he even find out?"

Marinette explained how biology class had given her the wrong results so she took the DNA test. Then relayed what had happened after.

"The boy from school is his son. I guess he's technically my brother. But neither of us are very happy about that." Marinette said.

Alya started with her the rest of the time and they went together to meet Rochelle before going to the location of the fashion show. By the time they arrived the first group was about to go on. They had multiple runways set up with seating and some standing area. The stages would be used one at a time but to keep the flow going they would move to the next stage to have time for the many entrants and to make it easier to find the information.

There was still a lot of time before the final show. After each set there would be a long break to give time to arrange everything again and allow people to come and go as needed. Many would only be there to support the person they knew who entered but for the final show everything would be set up for the big stage similar to a major Fashion show and the seats would all be there. A lot of fashion related figures and publications would be there for only that main event.

Sooner than Marinette could have imagined Marinette was hugging her parents before she headed back to check on Rochelle. Her older sister, Charlotte, was a makeup artist and had done her hair and makeup. Marinette had fashioned a coordinating hair ornament with a necklace, arm cuff and high heel covers.

Charlotte finished with Rochelle and pulled Marinette over so she could do her hair and makeup as well. Diane wanted to know more about covers for the high heels. Marinette told her all about how she loved to make jewelry and accessories. The high heel covers saved money since shoes were expensive and took up a lot of space so she started making covers to go with her neutral heels so they would be more versatile.

She didn't see Bruce and his family before the show but several people peeked out to see the crowd excited when some of the more famous people entered. She was a bit surprised to see someone taking a picture of him while Damian stood further away with his arms crossed. She wasn't sure who they thought he was. Fashion was an area she was pretty confident in her knowledge of all the major players and even a fair bit of the less known designers.

The lights all turned to the stage and the crowd hushed significantly as the music started. Rather than ranking it by type of clothing the organizers had decided the pieces by color starting with white and going through the rainbow and ending with black. Marinette's storm inspired greys and blues with a shock of bright violet put her near the end. Each model walked alone but quickly while the featured designer was named and the outfit was described.

It was over very quickly. For all the work that went into them fashion shows were not typically very long. Even with 50 featured models and designs the beginning had not even been half an hour ago. The smaller runways had already been dismantled to make space for the audience. After all the models and designers headed out the backstage area was being out away to leave only main stage for the announcement once the judges finished deliberating.

As Marinette headed towards the crowd where she could see her parents making awkward conversation with Bruce and the 4 boys with him. She took a moment to tell Rochelle to stay in the dress if she wanted for now. Hopefully it would get a little more buzz for both of them unlike the models or designers who had changed already to preserve their designs.

Marinette approached the group but she was not up for making conversation. She kept peeking nervously at the judges as they were making their final decision. She could never have told anyone what was being discussed but she knew every move the judges made until they all began to stand. Marinette watched as an envelope was walked over to the presenter and she slowly walked to the stage. Her microphone picked up the gentle swish of her skirt and the click of her heels.

Marinette couldn't hear what she was saying she focused on the hands as they worked on opening the envelope with a crinkle of paper as the seal pulled apart. She removed the 12 cards, each printed with the name of a contestant. As she told them they would be read in no particular order she demonstrated the point by shuffling and mixing the cards before restacking them to read the names of the winners.

As each name was called the winner would walk up to the stage and stand to face the crowd. They were handed a packet containing the information about the prize as the cheers died down before the next name was read. As each person walked forward to join the incomplete dozen Marinette became more and more desperate to be called.

She didn't actually think she could win. It was a large contest and she was only in her first year of lycée so many of the contestants were older. She supposed that was why they decided the groups to have all of them be able to publicly share their designs. She took a deep breath to calm herself but she just held it there as she watched the ten people being joined by one more after he was handed his packet.

The woman looked down at the last card and continued smiling as she waited for the hush to fall over the crowd before she read the last name.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

Her parents were cheering what she looked at them and then she saw Bruce and Dick were as well. Alya was bouncing up and down holding her hands while screaming and cheering. She started pulling Marinette towards the aisle and then shoved her forward to propel her to the stage. She joined the line of other winners but she was still in shock. The crowd was cheering again, her section was definitely the loudest even though the presenter had called for another round of applause for all the winners.

Next

Taglist

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[purpleyellow]

Benched

Seventeen 14th member

Hayun’s masterlist

“Home;Run promotions gets cut short for Hayun”

a/n: Feel free to let me know your thoughts as well as send me some requests💙. Ask box is also open to random chats.

Hayun wasn’t even awake yet but she could feel a sharp blinding pain on the lower right side of her abdomen, it took her a few seconds to get a grasp on reality and come to her senses, each moment that passed she groaned a little more and curled up on herself until she finally opened her eyes to see the empty dark room.

If it wasn’t for their recent moving of dorms, the girl could have easily woken up Joshua to tell him she wasn’t feeling quite right. But since she had been lucky enough to have her own room for the first time, there was no one in sight to help her out. 

Trying to get herself into a sitting position, she felt the pain intensifying immensely to the point where tears welled up in her eyes, so the girl had no other option but to stay laying down and either scream until the others showed up or call someone to come check on her.

Deciding on the latter since she was far too uncomfortable to make a scene, Hayun reached under her pillow to grab her phone and quickly pressed Seungcheol’s contact number, waiting for the call to ring three times until he picked it up.

“Hello?” Scoups’ sleepy voice broke the silence in the room and the girl doubted he had even checked who was calling him at that hour.

“Can you come here?” Hayun’s own raspy voice was a surprise for both of them, the leader quickly picking up that there was something wrong.

“Hayun?”

“I’m not feeling well, please come” She pleaded as the pain only seemed to grow more and more like there were knives dragging under her skin.

Hearing the call end, Hayun watched as the lights from the hallway turned on almost instantly, Seungcheol’s sleepy figure opening her door a few seconds later making her wince from the brightness.

The sight he was met wasn’t very pretty, besides the disheveled look she had from sleeping, the girl was holding herself in a fetal position and her face was considerably flushed. Placing a hand on her forehead, the leader instantly recognized a pretty high fever sending him into a mild panic mode.

“What’s going on? What are you feeling? How did it start?” He asked randomly trying to understand what the next step he should take, the girl only pouted and took a few deep breaths before whispering to him. 

“My belly hurts like a bitch” She said, wincing and the boy crouched down to her height.

“Is it like... period cramps?” He frowned and, despite her state, Hayun rolled her eyes.

“Trust me if cramps were like this my uterus would be long gone,” She said and heard a few steps from the hallway.

“Is everything okay?” A voice suddenly came from the hallway and they both turned to a sleepy Seungkwan leaning on the doorway. “The lights woke me up”

“I think I might be dying” Hayun whispered and he widened his eyes.

“No one is dying. Seungkwan can you please go wake up Jeonghan and Joshua and get them here” Scoups talked before the boy could freak out and then turned to the girl “Does it hurt everywhere?”

“Mainly here” She placed his hand on where it was and when he lightly pressed the spot the girl buried her face in her pillow groaning. 

More footsteps were heard and this time Seungkwan came, not only with the two Cheol had called, but also Wonwoo and Hoshi.

“I think we should get her to the hospital” The leader began as soon as the crowd settled in her room. Hayun quickly explained what she was feeling to them as Seungkwan sat near her head, gently patting her hair as a way to give her a little bit of comfort.

“Is this the first time you felt it?” Wonwoo asked worried but before she could agree Jeonghan spoke up.

“No, earlier at the comeback stage she was holding onto her stomach before asking for some pain killers”

“And you didn’t think about telling us,” Scoups exclaimed looking between both of them

“Talking about it, the day prior she took a break in between practices because she wasn’t feeling well” Hoshi mentioned “I thought it was because of exhaustion or something like that”

“I thought so too, both times actually” Hayun groaned trying to sit up, instantly getting assisted by Joshua and Seungkwan.

“Doesn’t matter now, let’s just get her to the hospital. She can barely hold herself up” Scoups said and all of them looked down at their pajamas and then back at him making him sigh “Okay. Me, Shua and Wonwoo are going to quickly change while the rest of you help her into some clothes”

“Just give me an oversized sweater, I don’t care” Hayun mumbled, making Jeonghan jump into assisting her getting her arms through the yellow mustard hoodie she had on earlier.

"I want to go too" Hayun heard Seungkwan whining as she was getting into the fabric which made the girl let out a chuckle before groaning at the pain it caused her.

“Someone needs to stay behind and let the others know what is going on” Hoshi tried to console the pouty boy.

“Yeah, and please call the managers while you're at it. They're going to be pissed that we're taking her to the ER without letting them know but I don’t really care right now” Scoups said walking in and looping Hayun's arm over her shoulder and getting followed by Wonwoo.

Getting up and walking to the car was a slow process considering each step caused the girl to hiss at the sharp intakes in her abdomen region. Laying in the backseat with her head on Joshua's thigh, she tried to focus on anything else other than the movement of the car.

“I honestly thought I was constipated since yesterday,” Hayun said as the silence in the car felt too suffocating to her. “Or like, exhaustion or something.”

“It could be appendicitis” Wonwoo mumbled from the passenger seat “You'll be fine just hang in there”.

“I’ve been a little nauseous too, maybe I’m pregnant,” She said, making the atmosphere less tense as the boys laughed at her exaggeration.

“Shut up” Joshua gently slapped the back of her head before resuming to run his hand on her arm.

As they got to the emergency room, the staff there took her to some examination where the doctor came to the same conclusion as Wonwoo. Diagnosing her with appendicitis, he began talking about the treatment plan.

“We'll perform surgery to remove the appendix as soon as possible to prevent it from bursting, it’s a simple procedure where we’ll-”

“What about the recovery period?” Hayun asked over him. She knew with surgery there was no way she would be able to complete promotions normally but still was worth asking about it.

“If everything goes fine you should be leaving the hospital within some days, though resting is crucial. I wouldn't recommend going back to normal activities in less than a couple of weeks. This is all estimation of course” He told her politely before returning to explain the procedure.

Looking around, the girl noticed the boys and the two managers who had joined them were listening attentively to the doctor. Sungcheol squeezing her shoulder ever so softly whenever he felt she was getting tense.

“If you don't have any more questions we should be taking her to the surgical floor” He ended his speech and the boys made a circle around the stretcher she had been placed on.

“Well be here once you're done,” Cheol told her and one of the managers came near them.

“Actually, it's best if you go rest and then back to the company,” He said calmly “You need to rearrange the choreography and get ready for the rest of the music shows. Don't worry I'll stay here with her and once your schedule is done you can come too”

“Can we postpone it for today at least?” The leader tried to argue but the two managers shook their heads “We’re one member down, I don’t think anyone is going to concentrate enough before we’re sure everything is fine”

“We understand but you’ll have to try. The company already invested a lot on the stages and outfits, the least-”

“One of my members is going on surgery right now, I’m sorry but I don’t give a crap about how much the company spent” He scoffed making the girl roll her eyes.

“Cheol is fine” Hayun sighed nodding to him “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just go along, once I’m out I’ll call you guys”

“Are you sure?” Joshua squeezed her hand and she nodded smiling at him.

“Yes, but let’s get going. I need to get this appendix from hell out of me right now” She said prompting the three of them to give her a hug before some nurses came to take her to the operating room.

[atinymonster]

vlive accidents

ateez 9th member.

when rumors start flying around about her and sunwoo dating after sunwoo accidentally reveals his phone wallpaper on a vlive.

➴ masterlist

taglist ➴ @galacticstxrdust, @jiyeons-closet, @banhmi07

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i’m sorry please don’t freak out

Seeing that message first thing in the morning whilst she and the boys were settling into the waiting room made her stomach churn out of uneasiness. What possibly could’ve happened that he had to text her that ominous line?

[tiny princess 👑💗] why? what happened?

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] don’t get mad but

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i accidentally showed a little bit of my phone wallpaper during a vlive with changmin hyung last night

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] and deobi’s being quick and observant...some saw it was you...

Jiyu felt her heart drop to her stomach at the thought of a dating scandal breaking out. They just started promotions for Thanxx, and not only did she not want a potential scandal to affect them, she was also worried for Sunwoo and his members.

She bit her lip out of anxiousness, something that didn’t go unnoticed by one of their stylists. “Everything okay, Jiyu?” she asked while prepping out their stage outfits

Jiyu softly smiled. “O–Oh, yeah I’m okay, unnie,” she reassured before returning to her phone.

[tiny princess 👑💗] oh...well...i haven’t been notified of any articles or anything like that...

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] i’m really sorry, know you’re in the middle of promotions :(((

[tiny princess 👑💗] no worries, bub. i know you didn’t mean to

[tiny princess 👑💗] i gotta go, we have dry rehearsals soon

[my sunshine ☀️❤️] good luck, lovebug!

[tiny princess 👑💗] (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

Turning his phone off, Sunwoo let out a sigh as he laid his head onto the table. Eric worriedly looked over. “How’d she take it?” he asked.

Sunwoo groaned. “She wasn’t mad. But I don’t know how she’s actually feeling...”

Truthfully, Jiyu felt anxious. She was anxious about the future and what could potentially happen if articles did pop up. Would she ruin her group’s reputation? What would happen to her and Sunwoo? So many scenarios and questions floated through her head.

Seeing as though something was on her mind, Seonghwa gently nudged the girl as they watched other groups rehearse. “Everything okay?” he asked, worry evident in his voice.

Jiyu pursed her lips before sending him a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to spoil their moods first thing in the morning. “Yeah, just a little sleepy,” she said.

Seonghwa patted his shoulder. “You can lean on me if you want.”

Taking his offer, she rested her head on his shoulder as she continued fretting over the situation. Throughout the day, it ate at her mind. Even the other boys noticed something was wrong from how zoned out and anxious she seemed.

“Ji, what’s wrong?” Hongjoong asked when he discreetly pulled her out of the waiting room. He figured she didn’t want to be asked in front of the others. “You’ve been out of it the whole day.”

Jiyu bit her lip. Could she tell Hongjoong? Sure, he was practically her family—they all were. But she didn’t want to ruin their excitement for thr upcoming promotions.

Seeing her hesitance, he gently patted her head. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it yet but—”

“I’m sorry!” she bursted out as she bowed in apology. Guilt started eating at her mind. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow in confusion from her sudden outburst. “Please don’t get mad at me...” she meekly warned before explaining everything.

Once she finished, Hongjoong bit the inside of his cheek in thought. Taking his silence as a negative response, she bowed again. “I know I messed up, but I’ll take full responsibility of the consequences and—”

Hongjoong sighed before patting her shoulder. “Calm down, I’m not mad,” he reassured. Jiyu stood up straight, but she couldn’t make eye contact with him. “None have us have seen any articles about it yet, either. If we did, one of us would’ve said something about it.”

Jiyu nodded. “Yeah...”

Hongjoong looked at the hall clock. “Come on, we should started getting ready. We have to go in ten minutes.” With a last pat to her head, he opened the door and went back inside.

Jiyu was rooted to her spot for a moment. Was he truly not mad at her? Would he tell the others? Her mind started thinking of the worst possibilities. If anything, she was afraid of the company finding out.

But she had no time to worry. Sucking up her worried and concerns, she forced the thoughts deep into the back of her head as she came back into the dressing room. The boys were all still playing around woth each other, indicating that Hongjoong didn’t say anything. Making eye contact with him as he got his mic pack put on, he gave a little nod of confirmation.

“Oh! There you are Baby Monster!” Mingi said when he noticed the girl standing there. “Hurry and get your mic pack on, we’re about to leave,” he said, handing her the mic pack as a staff member came to her to put it on.

She softly smiled. “Okay.”

As if blessed by every higher up out there, no one noticed her anxiousness for the whole day. They safely finished their first Thanxx recording and every other program they had scheduled for the day. Coming home, Jiyu fell into bed as worry consumed her once again.

She could only imagine the guilt Sunwoo was feeling and she frowned. Right when she picked up her phone to check up on him, someone knocked on her bedroom door. “Yes?” she called out.

“Baby Monster, you might want to see this,” came Yunho’s worried tone.

Fearing the worst, she opened the door to her room. Everyone was gathered around and they all stared at her with their eyes widened and panic written all over their faces. Yeosang help up his phone for her to see once he saw her.

Holding her breath out of nervousness, she glanced at his phone and her heart dropped to her stomach at the new article written in all caps across the screen.

ATEEZ’S JIYU AND THE BOYZ’S SUNWOO RUMORED TO BE DATING

Her breath hitched. The boys nervously stared at her, wondering how she would react. Judging by her expression, she was absolutely scared. Scared for the future of what could potentially happen. Her head dropped—she couldn’t look at any of them. “I’m sorry,” she quietly apologized.

Seonghwa took the girl in his arms and gently comforted her. “We’re more worried about you than angry.”

“...I’ll go to the company about it tomorrow,” she said, voice slightly muffled by Seonghwa’s hoodie. “I’ll take responsibility for it.”

They glanced at each other, worried. “But what if you get...” Wooyoung trailed off, not wanting to voice out everyone’s worst thought of what could happen. Removed from the group.

She wryly chuckled. “Then I’ll just have to accept it. It’s my fault after all.”

Hearing her small voice accept reality, Wooyoung’s bottom lip started quivering as he squeezed into Seonghwa’s and Jiyu’s hug. Eventually, they were all standing in the middle of the room in a huddle, trying reassure her that she’d never be kicked out and that she wouldn’t have to break up with Sunwoo—even if the latter sounded a little too good to be true.

Please don’t let me lose any one of them.

[random-imagines-blog]

Control the Noise {General One Shot}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 1807 Summary: You’re a songwriter with quite a bit of acclaim but you tend to hide behind a pseudonym to keep your private life private. But it doesn’t stay that way for long.

In your rather spacious apartment, you played the piano softly. The Grammies were being premiered tonight on the television, but you weren’t paying attention just yet. The cameras were all focused on the glamorous people that were walking down the red carpet. Beautiful gowns in every color, suits with different color ties. A few of the men chose to wear something that wasn’t just a simple black suit, and people applauded them for it. But you didn’t care for the politics of the music industry. You were in it for the music itself. The lyrics. The chance to have someone with an amazing talent showcase the words that you wrote.

You were feeling inspired tonight. Your fingers glided across the piano, coming up with a melody - and the words were just popping into your head. You stopped playing and reached for the pen that you kept cocked behind your ear, and the notebook that you kept in place of the sheet music. You wrote down a couple of words, then continued on. It was that constant back and forth which took up a large part of your day today.

“Welcome to the Grammies!” The host of the night said, their voice coming from the television. You pressed your last couple of notes, then looked over your shoulder to where bright and smiling faces were looking down upon you. The host was someone that you had written for, actually. One of his major hits only two years before, but you have both since moved on. You had written three of the songs that were up tonight, which was the only reason that you were watching this. You’d be receiving a phone call at the end either way, but you might as well see how people responded to your music.

You were not the type for the famous life. The musicians that you worked with, save for a special few who had become friends, were given an alias. You wanted your personal life separate from your professional. Your neighbors just thought that you played music for fun, and knew nothing about your career. All in all - life was actually perfect this way. You got the money without the cameras.

It all seemed to go off without a hitch. You had a glass of wine, and some food delivered, so you could enjoy it all from the comfort of your couch. Your manager was texting you every once in a while, asking if you were watching, your opinion on some of the other songs, and some gossip on the big music couples that were there that night. You joined in - it was a little fun to gossip.

The night was going swimmingly. One of your songs had just won an award. You were up on your feet and dancing around, excited at the bit of a pay bonus that you were going to be getting from this. And the fact that the song would sell more now, and you’d be getting a little bit more of a percentage. It was nice to have your work recognized, even if only a small handful of people knew that it was someone else who had written the song.

The beautiful singer went up to the stage, among all of the applause. There, she was given the award. You were down on your knees in front of the television, all sparkling eyes and happiness. You had both put a lot of work into this, and she definitely deserved the fame and attention. The song had been written with her voice in mind. With her background in mind. You were especially proud of it.

“It’s an honor to be nominated alongside so many incredible female artists this year,” The beautiful young woman said into the microphone. “I guess this year we really stepped up. I have my mom to thank, my best friends obviously, y/f/n y/l/n for writing this amazing song, and the rest of the team....”

You fell back onto the carpet beneath your feet. Your name was the last thing that you had expected to come out of her lips. It was the last thing that you had wanted too. Your real name had been told to her in confidence. And here she was just spreading it out there.

You could just barely hear your phone ringing from behind you. You reached for it, without removing your eyes from the television. Nobody on the screen seemed to realize that anything had been wrong. People were still cheering, and the singer walked off of the stage after her speech. You raised the phone to your ear to hear your manager in an uproar.

“No - you tell them that this is unacceptable!” He was shouting at someone, that wasn’t you. “Y/N? Hey, just saw what happened - hold on - No, you tell her that we’re never working with her again! They broke the confidentiality agreement! Y/N, you still there?”

“Unfortunately,” You said, holding the phone a foot away from your ear. You could hear him sigh. He sounded as stressed as you felt. “What was she thinking?”

“She wasn’t. That’s the damn problem. All of that fame goes to their heads and they forget about the business side of things! Goddamnit - why do these award shows have to be live when so much can go wrong.”

“So what do we do?” You asked, turning off the television. You didn’t care about who won what anymore - you were just exposed for the world to know. No doubt your neighbors were watching. It was the biggest thing that was happening tonight, and plenty of people were going to see it. Oh God, even your friends who didn’t fully know what you did were going to find out.

“I’m going to call in a publicist, see what we can do. Don’t worry, it won’t be on your dime. The diva can take care of it,” He grumbled. “Just hold on tight and we’ll figure this all out.”

-

It had been three days. You didn’t leave your apartment. There had been a lot of phone calls but you only answered the ones from your manager. It was too late - the world knew that you were behind some of the biggest hits of the last couple of years. Your real identity had been discovered. It was unravelling. This was why you never went public, because of this sense of having no control.

You had to leave the house eventually though. You had to go out and get groceries. You psyched yourself up, picking a rather dull outfit from your closet so you wouldn’t get much attention. Even Lady Gaga sometimes gets her own groceries. Brad Pitt has been seen doing it. Besides, it’s not as if a lot of people would connect your name with your face, unless you had to show some identification. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

You kept a hat low over your eyes nonetheless as you went through the aisles of the supermarket, picking out the things that you would need for the next two weeks. It seemed to be going well, no one was looking twice at you. It was when you went up to the check-out that things started to go awry.

Right on the cover of the tabloid magazines which were always surrounding the check-out counters, was your face. And your name. ‘Star Songwriter’s Identity Revealed!’ The picture wasn’t the most flattering one either. It was taken off of your personal instagram account, which as private. You maybe had fifty followers on there, all people that you know, but somehow, one of those pictures had gotten leaked.

While trying not to bring any attention to yourself, you picked up the magazine like you were inspecting it. Then you set it down, facing the wrong way. Instead of your own face, what you saw now was an advertisement on the back. Then you did so with the rest of them, making sure that each one was turned around. Some poor salesperson would have to fix them but it was horrifying nonetheless.

You got out of there as soon as possible, moving from using the check-out counter with a smiling person behind it, to the self-check out. At least there you didn’t have to talk to people. And you could get out with your head bowed and no one looked at you twice.

Once you were back in the safety of your car, just one of the many in the parking lot, you called your manager again. He had been getting a lot of calls from you lately. Most of the time he wasn’t picking up because he was too busy trying to fix this problem. You caught him at a spare moment though.

“There’s no use,” You sighed into it. “My picture is on the cover of the magazines. Like I’m Madonna or something.”

“Oh honey, Madonna is never on the covers anymore. You’re like Taylor Swift now,” Your manager said. This did make you smile a small bit but it was still unfortunate. “But I hate to say that you’re right. You’re trending all over right now. You made it big - so now it’s up to you what you do with it.”

“I guess I should get a publicist,” You groaned. You liked it when it was just you and your manager, who was the one who worked with the record labels to get your song out there. It wasn’t the size of your entourage, it was the quality. And after so long of it being just the two of you, you were reluctant to bring another person onto the team.

“Leave that to me,” Your manager grunted. “At least then I’m still good for something.”

“None of this is your fault. I shouldn’t get close to the artists, I know, it’s mine,” You let out a long sigh. “I guess I have some thinking to do.”

“Maybe you’ll find some inspiration and come out with some new songs, eh?” Your manager said, flipping the conversation to work, as they always managed to do. “Your last few were absolute hits. And now that your name is going out there, people are going to be looking for it. Lots of offers already. Just think about it.”

“Okay. Thanks - for everything.” You hung up your phone and checked yourself out in the rearview mirror, slapping your cheeks to get rid of that blood-drained look that seeing yourself in the magazines had given you. At least your manager was right about one thing.

Inspiration really was running through you now.

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 5

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

(Fair warning, this is about to get even darker. We are moving towards a much deeper connection between Chess and Rick; but I find a deep connection needs a backstory. Also; let me know if you want to be added to my tag list. I’m still new at this, but I love knowing that people are actually reading my dribble.)

TW: sexual harassment/assault, torture, sexual themes, violence

I rubbed my neck, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

“Did you just microchip me, like some animal?”, I asked. “Something like that”, Flag said, and pulled a radio from his belt. “GQ, get the crate”, he spoke into it, and walked towards the door.

Diablo went to get a t-shirt, hanging over a chair, and put it on. “They got us rigged with some dynamite shit”, he said, and started stretching his shoulders. “Big boom”, Digger said, emulating an explosion coming from his neck. “Knocked String Boys head clean of”. “Slipknot”, Diablo corrected him. “Whatever”, was the answer, as Digger went to lay down on a bench, covering his eyes with his arm; apparently preparing to take a nap.

“Welcome to the family”, Diablo said, smirked at me, and went for a set of dumbbells in his corner.

Croc had pulled a slice of what looked like day-old pizza, from his hoodies pocket, and was eating it with a terrifyingly pleased face.

Harley – motherfucking Harley Quinn – was muttering quietly to herself, before lighting up in a big smile, exclaiming: “Ants!”, and skipping away to do whatever it is psychopathic criminal overladies do, when no one is watching.

The door behind me opened, and Edwards, whose acquaintance I’d made the day before, came into the gym. Behind him, the Tweedles were dragging a large box. Edwards and Flag exchanged a few hushed words; and Flag gazed over his shoulder to meet my eyes, before looking back at his subordinate. “… hope they’re ready”, was all I could make out from their conversation; and chills ran down my spine.

They put the box on the floor in front of me. Flag bent to unlock it, and his t-shirt rode up a bit, revealing some bruises and scratches on his lower back and hip. “Get into a fight?”, I smirked. “Just a feral cat”, he answered, smiling over his shoulder. Apparently, I’d gotten in enough punches, to make him feel it even now, quite a while later.

He opened the lid. “Here’s your shit. If you want to change, there’s a bathroom through that door”, he said, nodding towards the door Harley and Digger had come through. “Just be careful; you might get an audience. Which reminds me”. He walked over to where Digger lay; and kicked at the bench, making the peeping tom fall of it. “Hey jackass! Stop being creepy, and let people shit in peace”. Digger scrambled onto his legs, and made a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”, he boomed, and laid back down, muttering curses under his breath.

“Ladies don’t shit, colonel. We powder our noses”, Harleys voice came from somewhere. Looking up, I saw that she was hanging upside down from a rope, one leg intertwined with it. Twirling her ponytails, she winked at me, before blowing a large bubble with the pink gum in her mouth.

Croc had pulled out a second slice from his pocket, and was chewing away. His enjoyment of the snack was almost obscene. He nodded towards the box in front of me. “What you got in there?”, he asked. I rifled through the things, recognizing some of my own belongings. It was now I realized that none of the crew were wearing all prison garb. Diablo had a bluish varsity jacket hanging from a chair, and Deadshots sneakers were definitely not prison grade; I could tell from the high-end label on the side.

The other three were also wearing some sort of personal addition to the orange pants and tank top, provided by Belle Reve. For Croc, it was his brown velvet hoodie; and Digger had on a coat that looked like it desperately needed a washing. Harley had on a pair of striped pink and blue shorts, held up by suspenders. The shorts barely covered her ass, and showed of the many tattoos on her legs.

Taking my favorite band t-shirt out of the box, I noticed it still had some cat hair stuck to it, from my beloved babies at home. Selina, I’m trusting you to take good care of them, I thought. I put the shirt on the floor beside me, and continued to go through the box. A polaroid of me on stage, my first night at Sammy’s; my copy of Alice In Wonderland; a pair of hot pink socks, I’d knitted myself; an oversized greyish flannel shirt, I’d stolen from an ex; some makeup and black nail polish, in a black purse; and a pair of broken, furry handcuffs – Ahh, Vegas, I smiled. Finally, I pulled out a small stuffed bunny, I’d won at a travelling fair, a few weeks before I’d been taken by Hatter. I stroked its tiny face, and discretely kissed its head. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Digger looking at me, sending me a friendly smirk and nod. I smiled back.

I kept searching through the box. “Looking for something?”, Flag said from behind me. “Where are my smokes?”, I sighed. “There were no cigarettes in the box when it arrived”, Flag answered me. He’d already gone through it.

A large scaly hand offered me a pack of Marlboro Lights, and looking up at Croc with a thankful smile; I took one of the cigarettes, and popped it in my mouth. “Anyone have a light?”. Diablos hand appeared in front of my face; pinky stretched. A tiny flame burned from it, taking me by surprise; and I half laughed, half guffawed, as I lit the cigarette.

“I knew you could do that!”, Harleys shrill voice sounded. Her head appeared next to mine, and she rested her chin on my shoulder. She smelled like bubblegum and cotton candy, and for a hot second I was tempted to turn my head and lick her face.

“Who the hell gave Croc access to cigarettes?”, Flag muttered to Deadshot. “You know how he gets when he runs out, and goes cold turkey!”. “You’re telling me, man. There’s still a hole in the wall between his and my cell, from when he ran his fist through it”, Deadshot smirked.

“Ooh! What’s that?”, Harley asked, and reached in to the box, revealing a false bottom. I removed the thin board of metal.

There you are!

Surrounded by the whole crew – a curious Digger having joined us – I picked up a black, cropped and hooded faux leather jacket. The pleather was undamaged still, and putting it on, I pulled up the hood, and closed the zipper. With the help of the hood and the large collar, my face disappeared into shadows. Flag looked at me, lifting his chin; staring me down. His gaze made me slightly uncomfortable – or was it stirred? – and I took off the jacket again.

A loose purple, off the shoulder crop top; and a pair of black, high waist, lycra and mesh leggings completed the outfit. Finding my favorite combat boots in the box, I only needed one thing.

I moved around rope, a crowbar, some lockpicks, and a hammer and chisel. There they were. My claws.

“Cute mittens”, Harley giggled, and grabbed for the black fingerless gloves. “Careful!”, I gasped, and quickly grasped them. Harley pouted. “What? You don’t like sharing your toys?”.

I put on the gloves, made a fist; and from my knuckles sprang 4 curved knives. Edwards and the twins quickly raised their guns at me, prepared to shot, if I tried anything. I rolled my eyes, and noticed Flag trying to hide a smile.

Picking up an old sock, I demonstrated the blades sharpness, by cutting through it. The knives went through the fabric like butter; and Harleys eyes widened. “Oh”, was all she said, after which she took a step back; and went to stand behind Deadshot. “Lady, you got some sharp nails there”, he said, and chuckled.

“You still know how to use them?”, Flag asked, not removing his eyes from the blades on my hands. I just smirked.

I went to stand by the wall. I could feel eyes on my back from my audience. I bent my knees; and then leaped. I grasped the wall with the claws, and started climbing upwards. At the top of the wall was a row of tiny windows. “Don’t do it, Y/N!”, Flag called, as I heard the soldiers cock their guns. I looked over my shoulder, winked at him; and smiled.

I quickly moved laterally on the wall. Gunshots sounded, and the wall beside me suddenly was full of holes. “Hold your fire! Hold your goddamn fire!”, Flag yelled desperately. The gunfire stopped, and I made myself reappear; hanging by my claws from the basketball hoop on the opposite wall. One of the Tweedles cocked his gun again; and everything after that happened in slow motion.

The soldier took aim at me; looking pissed. From out of nowhere, Flag jumped at him; knocking him to the ground. The gun went off; bullet narrowly missing my head – and I fell.

---

I landed on my back; the wind knocked out of me. I closed my eyes, and heard people running towards me. I felt a strong arm under my back, and a hand behind my head. “Y/N”, Flags shaking voice called out. “Come on kitten, wake up”, he whispered into my ear, his breath warm against my neck.

I opened my eyes, seeing his face inches from mine, mouth slightly opened to speak again. I suddenly noticed there were specks of green in his brown eyes.

I blinked once. “Are you gonna kiss me now?”, I asked, and smiled crookedly.

Flag let go of me, and pulled back, lips now in a thin line. He stood up, and stormed towards the shooting twin. He grabbed his collar; and slammed him against the wall. “What the fuck is your problem? Do you not know how to follow an order?”. The soldier put his hands up. “Sir, she was going awol!”. “She is an asset. Wallers asset!”. Flag punched Tweedle in the gut; making him double over. “Get this asshole out of here”, he called to Edwards and the other twin; who dragged the panting soldier out of the room, Flag following them to the door, still cursing.

Deadshot crouched in front of me, holding his hand in front of my face, a couple of fingers raised. “How many fingers am I holding up?”, he asked. “What are fingers?”, I joked; making him chuckle again.

He helped me onto my feet. “You are a hard one to kill, Chess”. “Nah”, I answered. “I can die plenty. I think my secret is, I just really don’t want to”, I said, and stretched my arms into the air, feeling my bones pop.

“Why didn’t you run? You could have made it through the window”, Diablo asked from behind Deadshot. “I wouldn’t have made it half a mile. I’m spent”, I answered. “I need energy to smile, and they’ve had me living on cat food for a month. Only just had a real meal yesterday”. “Que cabrón”, Diablo spat.

Politely refusing one of Crocs pocket-pizza slices; I went back to my box of belongings. Kneeling beside it, I quickly changed into the band t-shirt. It had been a snug fit once; but my kibble-diet had made it quite a bit looser.

Flag crouched next to me. “You good?”. He didn’t look at me, but kept his eyes on the ground. “That wasn’t supposed to happen”. I scoffed. “I’m fine. Just a few more bruises to add to the collection”. Flag exhaled. “You can keep the civilian clothes, and three items from the top layer of the box. Your combat equipment will be stored for you, until you need it”. He stood back up. “The rest will be destroyed”.

I scowled at him, and stood up, putting my hands on my hips; swaying back and forth a bit, deciding; then bent over, and started gathering the things I’d chosen. I felt his eyes on me. “Checking out the asset?”, I teased.

“Could you just for a second stop that shit? Stop flirting, and start being serious about the situation you are in!”, he growled at me. “Why? Am I getting in to your head?”, I twirled around, and pouted at him innocently.

He shook his head, and furrowed his brow, scoffing at me. “Just quit it, and do the job we brought you here to do”.

I stepped up to him, and looked him square in the face. “I’ll quit it, when you quit that good soldier bullshit”, I spat. “You had no right to go after me, and no right to keep me here”.

“I have every right”, he said calmly, staring down his nose at me. “You’re a scumbag. A criminal. The world would be better if you just disappeared”. “Oh?”, I asked; not breaking eye contact. “Tell me, what’s the difference between me and the Bat? That asshole is beating up people left and right; no badge, no warrant… He decides who he thinks is a bad guy, and drags them to the front step of Arkham, or airdrops them in to this shithole”.

I stomped away to grab the sack that had been over my head earlier. I stuffed the book, the makeup-purse, and finally the rabbit into it. I saw Deadshot and the others huddled in a corner; obviously trying to give me some space; and pretending not to be staring at the scene.

Flag stormed after me, grabbed my arm, and spun me around; holding me in place, as I struggled. “You are nothing like him. He brings down criminals. You kidnap judges, and torture them”. His face was inches from mine. “He has never stolen money from anyone”. “Maybe that’s because he is already the richest man in the goddamn country!”, I hissed at him. I looked at the squad in the corner. They didn’t seem to have heard.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, Flag asked, and let go of my arm. I rubbed the spot he’d been holding on to. “Never mind”, I quietly answered, not wanting to get into it. The papers I’d seen in Lucius Fox’ safe, had made me put two and two together; but as I’d told Deadshot before, I really didn’t want to die – so mr. holier-than-thou Waynes secret, was safe with me. That was one wasps nest I was not putting my hand into.

Flags face had softened. “What happened with judge Kelper?”. “Your read the file”, I answered, not looking at him. “I kicked his ass”. “Before that”, he demanded. “What made you do it? If you’re not a bad guy, you must have had a reason”. I closed the box, and sat down on it. “Truth?”, I asked. He nodded.

“Kelper would show up at the club sometimes – slumming it. I knew who he was, because he was the judge at an arraignment, where I was charged with pickpocketing for the Hatter”. I folded my hands in my lap. “Someone caught you pickpocketing?”, he smirked, a slight warmth returning to his eyes. “Tetch hadn’t fed me in a couple of days. When my bloodsugar is low, and my energy is down, it’s difficult to keep up the mirage”, I admitted. “Anyway, Kelper would bring in whoever he was paying off, to further his political career, and wave money around; getting the performers to join them at their table. I was stupid enough to take some of it myself”. I winced; remembering how I’d sat on his lap, and played the part of willing participant in his little erotic adventure. Flag looked down. “I never let it go any further than a lapdance”, I said, actually worried he’d think even less of me than he already did.

“So, then what?”, he asked. I bit my lip. “Did you know he’s married? He’s got a beautiful trophy wife, and two teenage daughters, almost out of high school. Cheerleaders, blonde. Ditsy as fuck, but on their way to bright futures, due to daddys money, and mommys good looks”. “But?...”, he probed.

I sighed. “There was a girl at the club, Sarah, just turned 18; poor family, desperately trying to scrape up some money for college. One night, he invited her to join him and his friends in their limo. He said he’d give her a ride home, and maybe a recommendation for college”. Flags eyes turned cold again. I continued. “He kept calling her Stephanie, even when she tried to correct him”. I looked up at him. He was looking more and more aggravated. “She didn’t show up for work the next day, so I went to her place”. I ground my teeth together, before continuing. “Her mom told me she was in the hospital. When Sarah had refused to put out willingly, Kelper had held her down... When he was finished with her, he’d let his friends have the leftovers”.

I looked at my feet. “His youngest daughters name is Stephanie”.

I was jolted, when Flag kicked the box I was sitting on; clenching his fist, and cursing quietly. “Sorry”, he said, looking at me. I was unsure what the apology was for; the kick, or my story.

I stood up. “So, now you know. I beat that shitheads face into a pulp, clawed his skin; and made sure he’d never be able to do that to another person again”. Flag stayed quiet.

I picked up my sack of belongings, and went to face him again. “And just for the record, that last 13.000 dollars… Sarahs mom couldn’t afford the hospital bill, and became behind on the payments. They almost got kicked out of their apartment the week before I raided that safe”.

We stood there for a little while, staring each other down.

“I’m sorry that happened”, Flag said. He sighed. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the situation you’re in. You’re going to have to be a part of this team, if you want to ever get your life back”. He was almost apologetic. “I know”, I admitted. “And for the record; I am a bad guy”, I said. “A really good bad guy”. Flag smirked at me, and moved to the middle of the room. Apparently, our conversation was over.

---

“Alright people! Unfortunately, we won’t have a lot of time to get acquainted with our newest team member”, he called, grabbing the attention of the rest of the squad. “We have a new mission”. “That was fast”, Deadshot said. “Sorry, Floyd. You’re going to have to take a rest from the ball, and reacquaint yourself with your guns”, Flag answered.

“So. Here’s the brief…”.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r​

@hyp-oh-critical​

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Suspenders

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 2,048

Rating: PG-13

Summary: A Brooklyn 99 inspired drabble, featuring Jungkook as Peralta, Namjoon as Holt, and I’ll let you guess the rest. ALTERNATIVELY TITLED: Shanna writes fanfic within fanfic as an excuse to have Jungkook doing dumb shit in an uniform. Go nuts!

“JEON.” Crossing both arms over his chest, Kim Namjoon regards Jungkook with a mixture of exasperation and antipathy. “Do you care to explain why, for the past several days, you have worn those ungodly apparatuses into my workspace?”

“Captain, I’m so glad that you asked.” Jungkook reclines in his seat. “These are what we on the street call suspenders.”

“I know that.” Namjoon stares. “I am familiar with the vast array of garments which can adorn the human body. What I am not familiar with is why you are now choosing to dress like a Prohibition era mobster to work.”

“Well, Hoseok is at home taking care of his sick girls.” Jungkook speaks as though this should be an explanation. “I thought the office would be going through withdrawal.”

“I, for one, think he looks great in them.” Jimin beams from the desk beside Jungkook, giving him a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, Jimin.” Jungkook turns around in his chair. “I’m wearing these suspenders to increase precinct morale.”

Unable to stay silent any longer, you look up from your desk. For the past several minutes, you have been – unsuccessfully – pretending Jungkook is mute. 

“The Captain makes an excellent point,” you butt in. “Those suspenders are more distracting than they are motivating.”

Jungkook’s grin widens. “What’s so distracting about them? Is it the way they highlight my spectacularly toned physique?”

Forehead wrinkling, you give him a look which clearly states you do not trust his level of sanity. “Please. More like you would get caught on a doorframe running into a raid and kill us both.”

“He’s right,” Yoongi says, not looking up from his computer. “You would get yourself killed by suspenders, Jeon.”

“Really?” Jungkook cocks his head. “I always thought I would go out in a dashing way. You know, like John McClane or something.”

Staring at him, you attempt to ascertain whether he is being serious. “You know just because the movie is entitled Die Hard doesn’t mean they actually died hard, right?”

“Obviously.” Releasing his suspenders, they thud against his chest with a dull snap. Jungkook winces. “It was a metaphor. Duh.”

After another long moment, you turn to face Namjoon. “I second your question, Captain. Jungkook and I are supposed to be on a stake-out tonight and if he doesn’t change his outfit, I have major concerns.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says. “My concerns are different from hers, though. I’m largely concerned with the stick up Y/N’s ass.”

“There is no stick up my ass,” you snap, scowling darkly at him. “That would be highly improbable, not to mention painful.”

“Highly-improbable-not-to-mention-painful – title of Y/N’s sex tape!” Jungkook blurts out, high-fiving Jimin. “Captain, I can assure you these suspenders will not get in the way of my job performance.”

“Oh, come on –”

“Prove it.” Namjoon unfolds his arms.

Both you and Jungkook cease talking at once.

“I – what?” Jungkook stares in disbelief at the Captain.

“Prove it,” Namjoon repeats, arching a brow. “Demonstrate you can carry out your professional responsibilities in a satisfactory manner before leaving for your stake-out, or I will formally require you remove your suspenders.”

“But…” Jungkook sputters, trailing off. “Hoseok wears them all the time!”

“Hoseok is a more competent detective than you,” says Namjoon, utterly serious. “Any other objections?”

Grinning widely, you lean back in your seat – the proverbial cat who ate the canary. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, Captain.”

“And seeing as Y/N is the one concerned by this safety hazard,” Namjoon adds, turning to you, “I suggest she perform said demonstration herself.”

Your smile disappears. “What?”

Namjoon waves a hand. “Since the main concern is Detective Jeon incapacitating himself whilst in the line of duty, it only seems logical we simulate said responsibilities and see how he responds. Yes?”

“I – I guess.” Beneath your desk, your foot has ceased tapping.

“And as his partner, you are best suited to performing said simulation. Yes?”

“What about Jimin?” you meekly suggest. “He lives for this kind of thing.”

“Jimin is too loyal to Jungkook. The entire test would be a farce.”

“He’s right,” Jimin agrees. “It would be.”

“Good.” Namjoon nods solemnly. “Now that we are all in agreement, might I suggest the following? Y/N and Jungkook are on their stake-out when their location is compromised by a local gang member – Y/N, you will play the role of said adversary.”

“I – wonderful, sir,” you say, somewhat dazed.

“Hang on.” Jungkook holds up a finger. “If Y/N is said gang member, then who will play Y/N on the stake-out?”

“Excellent point, Jeon.” Namjoon pivots. “Jimin, you can play Y/N.”

“Of course, sir!” Jimin jumps up and salutes. “Always happy to help out in any role-playing scenario. Just let me get into character.” Scrunching his face, Jimin flicks pretend hair over one shoulder. “Mah,” he says, opening and closing his mouth. “Mah! MAH!”

“Captain Kim,” you protest, staring at Jimin incredulously. “Is this necessary?”

“Good question. Detective Park – is this necessary to get into character?”

Shaking his hands at the wrists, Jimin bounces up and down. “Yes, this is imperative to my creative process, but I’m finished. Where should I stand?”

“Over there.” Namjoon gestures at the open space before the water cooler. “Detectives Jeon and Park, please adopt your positions as the two on the stake-out. Y/N, you will enter from stage right and attempt to disarm Detective Jeon.”

“Captain...” Your brow furrows. “I must say, I don’t think this proves –”

“Are you questioning the Captain’s methods?” Jungkook stands from his desk. “I happen to think this is a great idea.”

“Stop talking, Jeon,” Namjoon says mildly. “Or I may change my mind.”

“Noted, sir.”

Jungkook strides across the precinct floor, adjusting his suspenders. Your eyes fall briefly to the curve of his ass, held snug by his pants and equally fast, you force your gaze upwards.

“Fine.” Standing, you smooth down the front of your shirt. “I’ll play along. Prepare for an epic beat-down, Jeon.”  

“Been preparing my whole life for that.”

Having no response to this, you slowly close your mouth.

The rest of the precinct is now paying attention, having set down their belongings as the situation unfolded. Jimin remains firmly in character as you, responding to Jungkook in a girlish falsetto.

“Oh, Jungkook,” he says, laughing shrilly. “You’re such a talented detective. Sometimes, I’m super jealous of how close you are to Jimin.”

Wrinkling your nose, you move closer. “Okay, first off – that impression of me is borderline sexist. Second, I would never say that. You two are weirdly close.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jungkook crouches beside Jimin. “Seems like someone is a little jealous of having a best friend.”

“I do have a best friend,” you retort, pausing behind the corner. “Yoongi is my best friend.”

“No, I’m not.” Yoongi seems bored by the proceedings, arms pointedly crossed before his black leather jacket. “I have no need to see any of you people outside of this office.”

“Cold.” Lowering your voice, you cock your head. “Also, a lie. What’s the plan, Captain?” Looking at Namjoon, you await further instructions. “Do I just… sneak up on them?”

“By all means – use your instincts, Y/N.”

Fighting an eye roll, you slowly step forward. “This is ridiculous,” you mutter to no one under your breath.

Jungkook lazily stretches an arm across his chest. “What a great night for a stake-out, Y/N!” he says loudly, glancing at Jimin. “Good thing I’m dressed appropriately for the occasion. Suspenders are such an under-utilized asset.”

Refusing to let him go any further, you barrel around the corner and make straight for his back. Feet pounding linoleum, you narrow your gaze at his shoulders. Jungkook stiffens, whirling to face you at the last second. He dodges your first blow, throwing one of his own.

“This is stupid,” you grunt, twisting out of his reach. “If I were actually an intruder, I’d have the element of surprise.”

“Not true!” Jungkook manages to loop an arm around your waist, yanking you closer. Huffing, you try and ignore how good his cologne smells. “If this were our stake-out, I’d have the door closed. You gave yourself away by banging it open.”

“Hngh!”

You do not say this last word, so much as grunt it, face smushed into the buttons of his button-down shirt. Although it gives you no end of annoyance to admit, the suspenders do make him look dashing.

Fortunately, they also provide a handhold.

Gripping them with one hand, you yank firmly down from behind. Jungkook swears, stumbling back and you rush into the opening. Shoving him with your shoulder, you knock him off balance and go for his leg, hooking one arm to tackle him to the floor. From this vantage point, you throw your weight forward and plant a knee on his chest.

“Winner!” you declare, triumphant.

Jungkook’s head falls to the ground. “Fine,” he groans, staring up at the ceiling. “I’ll get rid of the suspenders.”

“Great,” you say, brushing dust from your hands as you stand.

“I’d just like to say,” Jimin interjects. “If this were a real fight, it would’ve ended entirely differently because in a real fight, I would never have sat here while Jungkookie was being attacked.”

“I appreciate that about you,” mumbles Jungkook, still lying prostrate on the floor.

“Anytime, buddy.”

Rolling your eyes, you look at Namjoon. “Are we done here?”

“Most definitely.” Turning on his heel, Namjoon walks towards his office. “Detective Jeon – remove the suspenders before you get yourself killed. Seokjin,” he adds, coming to a stop. “Please arrange to have my dry-cleaning picked up before the Captain’s dinner tomorrow.”

“Can do.” Seokjin does not look up from his phone. His feet are propped up on his desk, leaning far enough back to be labeled precarious. “Except tomorrow isn’t good for me, since mercury is in retrograde and my psychic said I should avoid high-stress scenarios at all cost.”

Namjoon stares. “Picking up dry-cleaning is a high-stress scenario?”

“Absolutely not.” Seokjin shakes his head. “I slept with the owner of the place though, and that is high-stress.”

Namjoon stares for a long moment before apparently deciding this is an acceptable answer and striding into his office. The door closes behind him.

On the other side of the room, the precinct has returned to normal. Yoongi swivels to face his computer, Jimin skips towards the espresso machine and you begin the slow walk to your desk. There is a mountain of paperwork calling your name.

Jungkook catches you easily by the arm.

Startled, you glance upwards. “What?” you demand, trying not to give in. Trying not to revel in how good his fingers feel on your skin – rough and tender all at the same time.

Jungkook’s gaze shifts into something unnamed. “I hope you know,” he says slowly. “I wouldn’t let my suspenders get in the way of your safety.”

Ignoring the way your heart thuds at his words, you yank your hand back. “Good to know,” you say, continuing towards your desk. “Guess it’s a good thing I don’t need your protection, then.”

It would be a totally badass moment.

It would be a Charlie’s Angels-esque, walking away from the fire, hair blowing in the wind kind of moment – except Jimin left his fruit dehydrator out in the aisle and you unfortunately trip. Arms flailing, you barely refrain from falling flat on your face.

Chuckling under his breath, Jungkook comes up from behind you. “Oh, I know you don’t,” he says, walking past. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

Turning around, he hovers a moment before sitting down at his desk. The entire time, his gaze does not leave yours and, despite the circumstances, you cannot help but feel his wording is genuine. He really does like that about you.

Heart fluttering in your chest, you sit down as well.

Those suspenders really were kind of hot.

  © kpopfanfictrash, 2019. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Follow-up drabble: The Criminal

[no6secretsanta]

Stay

Stay

From @pigeonsimba to @crowmunculus

The winter chill bites into Nezumi’s skin, tugging his hood back with icy fingers and nipping at his nose and ears until his whole head aches.

Well, aches more, as Nezumi already has a tension headache from clenching his teeth all throughout play practice. Why is it so hard for them to get it?

He knows No. 6 has never been a hub for the arts—that, in fact, until eight years ago, the arts and any other form of self-expression was illegal—but since the wall was torn down and the citizens of No. 6 and West Block were encouraged to mingle, Nezumi would have thought at least some talent might have managed to slip through.

But no. The whole group is a pile of steaming shit.

Nezumi has been working with the troupe for a little over half a year, and they are still as miserable as when he first stepped through the door and ripped their run-through of Into the Woods to shreds. He barely managed to whip them into shape before showtime, and he only deigned to intercede because he could not bear to see a musical butchered so thoroughly in front of a live audience. The end result was passable, but apparently so improved from the group’s prior performances that the actors begged Nezumi to stay on as their director.

Nezumi had been steadfastly against it, but Shion insinuated it might be good for him, and Karan started making obvious comments about how great Nezumi was at theater, and finally Inukashi cracked and told him to fucking agree to the job already so he could stop mooching off of Karan’s goodwill.

Nezumi viciously regrets letting himself be bullied into taking the position. The worst of the volunteers act with all the charisma of wooden dolls; the best are sycophantic hams who howl their lines into the audience and throw themselves upon the stage props like “drama” means “dramatics.” Nezumi wants to cull the whole theater, but he’s already invested so much time into it that he’s loath to start over with a fresh crop of amateurs.

It seems No. 6 will always be a seat of disappointment and frustration for him, no matter how nicely the city functioned now under the Restructural Committee. It’s nights like this when Nezumi wishes he was still on the road.

 When he was traveling the world with nothing but the clothes on his back and his knife at his hip, he only had nature and his thoughts to contend with. The land never disappointed him the way people did; though it tested him almost as much.

He had staggered, starving, over endless yellowing plains; been bitten and stung by animals and insects he hadn’t known the names of; his skin had blistered from trekking over golden hills of sand under the relentless sun; he had hallucinated from hypothermia and nearly died in the mountains outside No. 4.

But Nezumi had always been a survivor, and for every time he skirted death, he gained a little more appreciation for the world around him. It had power he could never wield, power the human race would never possess nor fully understand. Elyurias had shown him his first taste of the wonder of the unknown, however bitter that lesson had been.

 Alone in the wilderness, there is no one to blame but yourself if things go wrong. The elements are punishing, but they are impartial. The sun doesn’t burn him to show its might; the rivers’ currents don’t snatch at his ankles to bring him to his knees; the trees don’t shed their leaves to rob him of shelter and food. The elements don’t care whether he lived or died. Nezumi means nothing to them and they have nothing to prove.

Nezumi had traveled the world for seven years, and even though he knew there was more to see, there had come a morning when he woke and the stillness in his chest said that it was enough; it was time to make good on his promise and attempt to put down roots.

So far, Nezumi has done well to keep the wanderlust to a low murmur in his chest, but sometimes, the roots still feel like choking tethers. He misses the days when he only had himself to rely on, the freedom of knowing that if someone’s company no longer suited him, or a job grew stagnant, he could simply pick up and move on.

Nezumi’s pocket vibrates and the reverie slips away in an exasperated cloud of breath when he checks his phone’s lit-up screen. It’s Midori, the most veteran actor in the troupe and resident thorn in Nezumi’s side. The woman is a prima donna in every sense of the word, but that’s not why she’s on Nezumi’s shit list: prima donnas he could deal with, but Midori is a frustrating mix of loudly entitled and deeply self-conscious. She demands starring roles, only to repeatedly ask for praise and reassurance of her abilities.

He presses the silence button and stuffs the phone back in his pocket. He’s already late and he’s almost to Shion’s house, and he doesn’t want to exacerbate his headache or Midori’s fragile self-worth by spitting venom into a receiver.

Yet another thing to miss about wandering through the wilderness: no phones. Every mile walked in blessed silence.

Nezumi mounts the stairs to Shion’s apartment and fumbles to pull the spare key Shion gave him out of his pocket and shove it into the lock. The brass door knob is so cold the metal burns in his hand as he turns it and slips inside.

Only the lamp beside the couch is on, but the apartment is small enough that the soft light is enough to illuminate the whole space. The front door opens onto a neat little kitchen, and beyond that is the living room, outfitted with a small dining table, an armchair, and a couch and coffee table. Two long bookcases span the length of the back wall, their shelves and tops stacked with novels half pilfered from the underground room and half collected by Shion over the years. The heaps atop the bookcases are high enough that they block the windows behind, so in the afternoons, the sunlight has to steal through the crevices of the towers like a thief, painting irregular patterns on the laminate floors and over the thick-fibered rug that lays beneath the coffee table. The bedroom and bathroom lay off to the right, completing the tour of Shion’s humble abode.

It’s odd to enter the house and realize that it’s Shion’s home. It’s a far step up from the underground room, and certainly much nicer than any of the places Nezumi has lived in since.

Nezumi makes a cursory glance around the quiet living space, but he doesn’t see Shion. He frowns and checks his phone for missed texts or calls, but there’s only the ones from Midori.

Maybe he stepped out? Nezumi is more than a half an hour late, after all, but it would be very out of character for Shion to walk out when he is expecting guests.

The bedroom door is shut and silent, and Nezumi wonders whether Shion is changing. Or possibly he’s asleep, Nezumi considers drily. It wouldn’t be the first time Shion invited him over, only to pass out in the middle of the visit.

Well, if Shion did forget he invited Nezumi over, or accidently fell asleep in his room, Nezumi isn’t going to just turn around and return to his room at Karan’s bakery. It’s too freaking cold out and his stomach is growling like a wild animal, so Nezumi removes his shoes and pads into the kitchen in search of something small and quiet to eat.

A snatch of deep blue fabric catches his eye as he moves toward the cabinet to grab a bowl: a tie thrown over the back of the dining room table chair. Shion’s leather briefcase lays splayed over the table, its papers peeking out of the lip where the buckle isn’t fastened properly.

The corner of Nezumi’s mouth quirks up. He had always thought of Shion as a neat person—after all, Shion threw a fit about the state of the underground room and systematically organized the whole space, and only a neat freak would do something so pointless when they knew full well Nezumi was just going to come back and muck it up again. But after returning to No. 6 and reacquainting himself with Shion, Nezumi discovered that Shion isn’t quite as uptight as he thought.

Shion is by no means untidy, but he has habitual ways of making messes: clothes strewn over his bed, cartons left on countertops, reading glasses and mugs and paperwork abandoned on the coffee table for days before Shion remembers to put them away.

Maybe Shion had been more Type A when he was sixteen, and his time working in the real world has forced him to bend in the interest of saving time, but Nezumi has a different theory: Shion had been on his best behavior in the underground room because he had always thought of it as Nezumi’s home and himself a guest staying there.

Nezumi knows he hadn’t been an easy person to live with, and he can’t say with certainty that if Shion had left messes around the underground room that he wouldn’t have used them as ammunition to threaten and criticize Shion when he felt they were getting too close.

Nezumi presses his lips together as every slight, and scowl, and unkindness he’d shown Shion when they were kids flits through his memory. No, he hadn’t been the easiest person to live with, and despite Shion’s constant probing and declarations of affection, there had always been a wall between them—mostly of Nezumi’s making, but at least part of the distance between them came from Shion’s stubborn misjudgments of his character.

Neither of them understood themselves well then, and that had made it impossible for them to understand each other.

But that was the past, and Nezumi has learned not to hold onto the things he can’t change. He and Shion aren’t the same people now, and they have agreed to start from scratch. Still, he can’t help the surprise he feels when Shion acts contrary to his perceptions, or the pangs of guilt when memories of his past conduct rise unbidden to his mind.

Nezumi peers over the countertop and finds Shion’s shiny dress shoes kicked off against the side of the heavy coffee table. A fogged-up plate cover rests atop the table, laid upon a dish towel to protect the lacquer, and Nezumi abandons foraging for a bowl to investigate. He spots a tuft of white against the dark gray of the couch and realizes that Shion is not sleeping in the bedroom after all.

The couch isn’t long enough for him to stretch out, so Shion is curled on his side in the fetal position, half of his face pressed so snugly into one of the throw pillows that Nezumi suspects he’ll have the lines and seams imprinted on his cheek when he wakes. The top few buttons of Shion’s shirt are undone, as are the buttons at his wrists, the sleeves rolled back to reveal the pale skin of his arms. Nezumi’s gaze traces the edges of the red scar wending its way around Shion’s neck, following its path until it slips beneath the collar of his shirt. He looks peaceful, and Nezumi feels some of the tension ebb out of his head and shoulders as he studies the sleeping man.

It’s odd to think of him—them—that way, as a “man.” On the road, Nezumi always remembered Shion as he had been: cute and heartbreakingly earnest, with his fluffy white hair, big brown eyes, and even bigger ideas. Nezumi had found him equal parts endearing and maddening. But the years have shaped Shion into a man of consequence and elegance.

When he walks into a room, the gravity shifts in his direction; Nezumi’s seen it on televised programs and in person. People are drawn to Shion like bees to a brilliant flower, and Nezumi has never seen someone who’s able to resist Shion’s easy charm; everyone caught in conversation with him leaves smiling and murmuring praises, no exceptions.

Nezumi always joked about Shion being royalty, but he never imagined Shion might actually become No. 6’s new era prince. Calling him Your Highness and Your Majesty seem less like teases now than his actual titles.

But Nezumi doesn’t call Shion those nicknames anymore. The first time he slipped into his old habit, Shion had given him such a look that Nezumi almost excused himself from Karan’s bakery and skipped town again. Apparently, being part of the Restructural Committee has made Shion painfully conscious of how tyrannical governments can be, and he will no longer tolerate Nezumi referring to him as No. 6’s ruler, even in jest.

That’s new: being deferential to Shion. Nezumi isn’t sure whether he’s so cautious because he’s changed enough that he cares about getting into—and staying in—Shion’s good graces, or if it’s that Shion has just become that much more intense.

Shion’s always been too much for him to handle: too warm, too stubborn, too bright, too naive. Too human. The winter they spent together in the underground room was the happiest and most terrifying winter of Nezumi’s life. West Block taught him never to get attached to anything, because he never knew when it would be snatched from him. Nezumi didn’t know how to throw Shion away, and he didn’t know how to keep him safe, so every moment they spent together was like slowly drowning.

The time away from each other has worked wonders on Nezumi’s emotional growth, and he had thought he was ready to come back and face Shion as equals, but Shion is still too much for him. The important difference between now and then, however, is that Nezumi doesn’t want to run from the challenge. He doesn’t need to fight to live anymore and Shion certainly doesn’t need his protection, so that leaves them free to be human together.

Only, Nezumi is still learning how to fully be himself in front of someone he actually wants to see every day. A transient life doesn’t give one much practice on building lasting relationships. But he’s working on it, and this new, grown-up Shion doesn’t seem to be in a rush to prise him apart.

A yellow sticky note is stuck to the top of the plate cover, and when Nezumi cranes his head to read the cramped script, a smile steals over his face. The note says, “Wake me up before you eat!” The words “wake me up” are darkened and underlined several times, a warning that this isn’t a request; it’s an order.

Nezumi has ignored Shion’s verbal instructions to wake him many times before, so he’s not sure why Shion thinks emphatic notes are going to have more weight. God knows Shion needs the sleep. He’s up at 5:00 a.m., works until the sun is far below the horizon, only to come home and continue working. If he passes out on the couch from exhaustion, Nezumi figures he shouldn’t mess with the natural order of things.

But, well… Shion did invite him over, and tonight Nezumi is feeling like a little company.

So, he muses to himself, how should I go about this?

One time, he woke Shion by dropping a stack of books on the table. He thought it would be funny to see him jump at the loud noise, but Shion screamed instead, scaring the shit out of them both. Shion was surly with him for the rest of the afternoon, but he paid Nezumi back the next morning by sneaking into his room at the bakery at the ass-crack of dawn and dumping an armful of paperbacks onto Nezumi’s head before he skipped off to work. That was some cold-served revenge Nezumi hadn’t expected and wouldn’t soon forget.

Tonight, Nezumi decides he’d rather wake Shion gently, so as to avoid any vengeful repercussions.

He reaches for Shion’s shoulder and gives him a light shake. A low groan of resistance rumbles in Shion’s throat and Nezumi gives him another nudge. “Shion. You asked for this, remember?”

Shion���s brow creases and he burrows his face deeper into the pillow, until all Nezumi can see is the mess of his sleep-mussed hair. Nezumi’s mouth twitches. Cute.

The mischievous part of his brain tells him to blow in Shion’s ear, but the rational side knows better. Nezumi slips his fingers into the soft strands of Shion’s hair and gives it a ruffle. It’s criminally soft and warm against his winter-chilled fingers.

“Wake up, Shion,” Nezumi whispers, combing the snowy locks behind his ear. “I’m hungry.”

Finally, Shion lifts his head and squints at him. “Mm. Hey. Did you just get here?” he manages, just before a huge yawn claims him.

Nezumi slides his fingers once more through Shion’s downy hair while he’s too sleepy to really notice, then folds his arms over his chest.

Shion sits up and stretches his legs out in front of him, bumping his feet against the base of the coffee table. “How was work?”

Nezumi screws his mouth to the side, but his headache has dissipated and he can’t drum up the level of annoyance he felt on the walk over, so he answers with a blasé, “Fine. Everyone still sucks.”

Shion flashes him a quick, sleepy smile and nods at the table. “I made dinner.”

Nezumi plucks the fogged-up plate cover off the dish and discovers dinner is chili. “Finally got around to using that crockpot, huh?”

“It was really easy to make. You just throw the ingredients in there and time does the rest.”

“Mhm…. You know you’re supposed to refrigerate this, or keep it in the pot until it’s ready to be served?”

Shion shrugs. “It hasn’t been out that long.”

“It’s gone cold. How long have you been sleeping on the couch? Do you even know what time it is?” Nezumi glances over at the microwave clock.

Shion slants a look at him. “Time to stop being mean to me. I just woke up from a nap, and you know how I get when I’m woken up from a nap.”

Nezumi feigns a cringe. “Yes. All too well.” He takes the bowl and crosses the room to pop it in the microwave. 

When he turns back around, he finds Shion tidying the living room, heaping the dish towel, the plate cover, and his fancy work shoes into his arms before moving to the kitchen table for his tie and bag. He still looks half asleep. Nezumi leans back against the counter and watches Shion stumble around in the half light, his hands full of his mess.

For all that Shion has grown, he’s still very much the boy Nezumi remembers: soft and effortless and searching. Teenaged Nezumi had been a fortress, but Shion’s goodness always fleet-footed its way up the ramparts.

Shion’s quiet tenacity used to scare him. Now it feels like a blessing that someone cares enough to try to breach his walls. If Nezumi hadn’t had the memories of Shion’s warmth through the lonely nights of travel, he wasn’t sure what paths he would have taken, or if the journey would ever have led him back to No. 6.

Shion catches him staring and pauses on the other side of the island counter. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“I haven’t made a sound.”

“Your eyes are laughing at me.”

Nezumi snorts. “My, we really are in a bad mood, aren’t we?”

Shion’s shoulders drop and he sighs. “Yeah, sorry. Today was…long.” He shifts the heap he has collected in his arms and turns to the dining table, weighing his chances of success should he try to add the paper-laden briefcase to his horde.

“You should go to bed,” Nezumi says. “You look one object away from crumpling to the floor. I’ll clean up and leave once I’m done with eating.”

“No, I want to have dinner with you tonight. That’s why I invited you over. I just…” Shion hums in thought, still sizing up the briefcase. He clicks his tongue. “Oh, never mind. I give up,” Shion huffs, and dumps the collection in his arms onto the far end of the table to be fussed over at a time when he has more brain power to deal with it.

Nezumi chuckles, and turns to the beeping microwave to retrieve his food.

Shion settles himself in his designated chair, and Nezumi takes up the seat across from him.

“Where’s your bowl?” Nezumi asks. “You said you wanted to eat dinner with me.”

“Hm? Oh…” Shion colors slightly. “Right, well… I was hungry when I got home, and it was a while before you were supposed to come over, so I already ate.”

Nezumi raises an eyebrow. “And you were asleep before I even got here. I wonder why I came over at all. These are not the actions of a host looking forward to his guest.”

“I was looking forward to you coming over,” Shion insists. “I would have called you to cancel, if I wasn’t. And falling asleep was not on purpose.”

“It was on purpose enough that you had the forethought to leave a note to wake you up.”

Shion has no defense for that, apparently, and drops his gaze to the steam rising from the chili bowl. Nezumi bites down on a smile.

“I can make a small bowl for myself, if you want to eat together,” Shion offers, but Nezumi waves him off.

“Just keep me company and I’ll consider you forgiven.”

The chili is delicious, the perfect balance of spices and liquid consistency. But then, it’s Karan’s recipe, so of course it’s perfect.

When Nezumi first arrived in No. 6, he stayed in a room on the cusp between what used to be West Block territory and Lost Town. He remained there, alone, for a week, fussing over when and where and how he would announce to Shion he was back. He finally resolved upon visiting Karan first, since she was the mini boss in this situation.

Karan hugged him before he even finished reintroducing himself, and things snowballed from there. A month later, Nezumi found himself moved into Shion’s old room in the Lost Town bakery and having family dinners with Karan, Shion, Inukashi, baby Shionn, and occasionally Rikiga. The warm family atmosphere is at once disorienting, uncomfortable, and deeply satisfying. Being part of a greater whole appeals to a part of himself that Nezumi hadn’t even realized he had been missing.

The biggest perk of living with Karan, however, is that Nezumi has his pick of the most delicious foods and pastries imaginable. Nezumi has experienced some extremely novel, odd, and mouth-watering cuisines while traveling abroad, but Karan’s cooking could compete with the best of them. She makes simple things, comfort food, but every recipe is executed perfectly, and Nezumi would take common food made well over fancy dishes any day.

Shion rests his chin in his hand and says nothing as Nezumi eats. He looks more alert now. The glossy film of sleep has faded from his eyes, and Shion’s gaze is back to its usual level of penetrating. Shion’s ability to stare like he can see past all your bullshit directly into your soul hasn’t changed one bit. In fact, being a member of No. 6’s governing body seems to have made his perceptions more astute.

This is both a comfort and a cause of deep uneasiness.

“You must like it,” Shion says, “because you’re not saying anything.”

Nezumi spoons another bite into his mouth and chews on that comment. “I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating. It sounds like you think I only talk to criticize.”

Shion straightens. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Fishing for compliments, then?” Nezumi shrugs a shoulder. “Alright. Karan’s recipe is really delicious. You must give her my praises.”

Shion turns face away and shakes his head, but Nezumi still catches the curve of his incredulous smirk. Nighttime sparring is Nezumi’s preferred type, because Shion is usually too tired to win.

“Deliver the praises yourself,” Shion says. “You live there, not me.”

“I compliment Karan all the time. But I don’t think it means as much coming from me.”

“It means a lot. Mom loves you.”

Nezumi hums a sound of assent and decides to be civil and ask, “How was your day, then?”

“Fine.” Shion leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. “Everyone still sucks.”

Nezumi points his spoon at him. “Touché.”

Shion laughs lightly, but a moment later his face sours and he sighs. “Talking about work after work is depressing. Can we talk about something better?”

“I would love to, but I don’t think either of us do much else but work and read, Shion. And last time I tried to discuss literature with you over dinner, you told me to stop.”

Shion leans his elbows on the table and laces his fingers together, his expression serious. “You were playing devil’s advocate too much. I don’t get why people do that. If we’re having a discussion about something, I want to know your opinion, not an opposing opinion for opposition’s sake. And if it is actually your opinion, then don’t hide behind ‘playing devil’s advocate.’ Just be honest about it; otherwise, you come off as an uppity snob, parroting views that aren’t even yours just to pick a fight.” 

“…I feel like you’ve been sitting on that diatribe for quite some time.”

“I was thinking about it all week,” Shion admits. “People in the office do it, too, all the time, and it drives me crazy.”

Nezumi nods his head slowly. “Duly noted. Anything else you’ve been stewing on that you want to share?”

Shion’s expression goes quiet. His interlaced fingers tense, but he holds Nezumi’s gaze and says lightly, “No. That’s it.” 

The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. Okay… That’s concerning. Nezumi focuses on scraping the last remnants of chili from his bowl to mask his confusion. What did Shion have on his mind that he didn’t want to share?

Did I offend him?

Shion hasn’t seemed irritated or guarded around him lately, but then Nezumi doesn’t know him as well as he used to. Shion’s basically a politician now and is well-versed in evading uncomfortable questions and bending truths. But even though Shion has gained some important networking skills, he hasn’t changed that much in essentials; he’s still straightforward and fiercely opinionated. If Nezumi pisses him off, Shion lets him have it right then and there. So whatever it is, it’s a touchy enough subject that even Shion balks at mentioning it.

Does he want me to back off?

Nezumi’s stomach twists, and his appetite shrinks in the shadow of his thoughts. It’s barely been any time at all since Shion welcomed him back. He couldn’t be sick of him yet… Right?

Nezumi knew reuniting with Shion wouldn’t be seamless. They would have to relearn each other; they’re different now, and there’s no pretending that difference away when they’re in close quarters with one another. He had expected anger and hurt when he and Shion finally faced each other again, but Shion has shown him nothing but warmth. Shion’s emotions are more muted at twenty-four years old than they were at sixteen, but he is no less gracious or willing to throw open his home to Nezumi again.

Nezumi had been grateful for the warm welcome. It was proof that Shion still wanted him around, but he also recognizes that Shion’s willingness to try again merely meant Nezumi had gotten his foot in the door.

Nezumi knows very well he’s on probation.

The seven years of separation that had brought Nezumi so much clarity had apparently caused Shion a lot of pain. Nezumi has picked up enough from Karan and Inukashi to piece together the broken picture of Shion’s life in the first four years of their separation: anxiety, depression, periods of simmering misdirected anger. As happy as Shion’s friends and family are that Nezumi made good on his promise and returned—as happy as Shion claims to be—they have reservations about letting him slip back into Shion’s life. They want definitive proof that he’s here to stay, and will not make a ruin of Shion’s feelings a second time.

Nezumi thought he gave Shion that proof when he agreed to move in with Karan. He thought he’s shown his dedication through the family dinners, and casual conversations, and solicitude for Shion’s personal space over the last few months, but maybe he’s growing too slowly for it to work. Maybe for all the progress Nezumi has made he isn’t enough for Shion anymore.

In West Block, Shion needed him; he was marooned and uncertain, and Nezumi was his only support and source of information. But Nezumi isn’t Shion’s whole world now. Shion has work, and friends, and a mother who loves him, and he’s gotten by just fine while they were apart. Maybe he’s realized that Nezumi no longer fits into his life the way he used to.

“Nezumi? What’re you thinking about?”

Nezumi glares down into his empty bowl. He never wants to return to the angry, caged person he had been, but sometimes he remembers what a bitter hell it is to care about another person, and he wishes he could push away the feelings instead of letting them burn through him.

“Nezumi?” Shion reaches across the table and pokes his bowl with the tip of his pointer finger. “Are you alright?”

“Fine. Just thinking about what you said earlier, about being honest.” Nezumi pushes out his chair and stands. “Easier said than done sometimes.”

He takes the bowl to the kitchen sink and begins to wash it. Midway through soaping the spoon with the sponge, he hears Shion’s soft footfalls on the tile behind him. His presence pricks at the back of Nezumi’s neck like heat, but he keeps his attention on the sink.

“You can use the dishwasher, you know….”

“Old habit,” Nezumi answers. He rinses the spoon off, places it in the drying rack, and moves on to the bowl.

Stupid, Nezumi curses himself. Old habits indeed. He’s too old to be covering his insecurity with fits of pique.

And what is he so upset about, anyway? Shion hasn’t said he’s unhappy or he wants him to leave. He could be hiding something entirely different—he could be hiding nothing at all. Maybe Shion’s just tired. Maybe they’re both very tired and being weird for no reason and everything will settle itself in the morning.

Nezumi scrubs the bowl until the brilliant blue of the glass is completely eclipsed by soap.

“I made you mad,” Shion says like a revelation. “Why?”

Why? Nezumi doesn’t have to do any deep meditation on the question. He’s upset because he has feelings now and everything is inconvenient. Every one of Shion’s smiles makes him hopeful, and every frown and cautious reply sends his mind into a paranoid spiral. And although he’s in tune enough with his emotions now to acknowledge what he’s feeling, his stubborn pride is still an obstacle to expressing them.

So here he is, acting like a spoiled child about something that isn’t even confirmed.

Nezumi splashes a bit of water over the bowl and drops it onto the bottom of the sink with suds still clinging to the rim. He scrubs the water from his hands with a cloth and faces Shion.

“I’m not mad,” Nezumi mutters. “I’m…” Off balance. Terrified. Utterly inept. “Confused,” he hedges.

Shion bites his lip, his dark eyes wide and searching, and Nezumi tries not to sound like too much of an insecure fool when he says, “You lied to me just now. There’s something on your mind.”

Annnnd, now I sound accusatory. Nice. Shion doesn’t answer immediately and it makes the moment so much worse. 

Why did he have to be a masochist and call him out? He should have ignored the awkwardness and enjoyed Shion’s company instead. If Shion is uncertain of their relationship, he could have used tonight to convince him it’s worth giving them another chance. Instead, he’s forced Shion to tip his hand.

With every silent second that passes, Shion looks more uncomfortable and Nezumi wants to crawl out of his skin. He can’t stand the nervous tilt to Shion’s expression. Nezumi turns back toward the sink and runs the water over the bowl again, just to have a reason to escape Shion’s gaze, no matter how transparent.

“I didn’t want to bring it up yet,” Shion says softly behind him. The words trace a line of cold down Nezumi’s spine. “I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and I didn’t—” Shion pauses and clears his throat.

The bowl is clean, but Nezumi keeps the water running, staring down at the stream and dissociating while he waits for Shion to deliver the critical blow.

“It’s only been a few months, and I know you’re still settling in at Mom’s,” Shion continues. “I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you.”

Pressure? Nezumi’s racing heart makes it very difficult to think properly, but he vaguely realizes Shion’s words are a strange lead up to telling him to hit the road.

Nezumi flicks the faucet off and half turns to peer at him. Shion straightens when their eyes meet and a combination of relief and agitation flits over his face before falling into a guilty sort of apprehension.

“I was afraid,” Shion says. “I didn’t want to scare you away when things have been going so well.”

“Scare me away…how?” Nezumi is thankful he’s such an accomplished actor, because it allows him to deliver the question with completely calm curiosity. Internally, he is a mess of electricity. Shion doesn’t want to scare him away, which means Shion wants to keep him close. His heart is pounding so hard his head feels like it’s going to explode.

Shion opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, then turns his burning face aside and fixes his eyes on the front door. He’s raking his thumbnail so deeply and incessantly against the second knuckle of his pointer finger that he seems in danger of rubbing the skin raw.

“I wanted to ask…” Shion mumbles to the door, “whether you might consider…staying here.”

Nezumi drums his fingers quietly on the counter but otherwise stays very still as he probes, “Here as in…?”

“Here. My house.”

The faucet releases an errant drop into the sink; the faint plop is thunderous in the silence stretched taut between them. Nezumi clears his throat and turns his body the rest of the way to face Shion straight on. Shion glances at him sidewise, probably trying to read his expression, but as Nezumi is keeping his face carefully devoid of emotion, Shion will get nothing.

Nezumi leans back, crosses his arms across his chest, and asks as casually as humanly possible, “You want me to stay over tonight?”

He’s pretty sure Shion doesn’t mean anything suggestive by it, considering they are not romantically involved anymore—yet?—but even as a platonic invitation it makes Nezumi’s breath catch in his throat.

Shion eyes Nezumi up and down, and although he knows Shion’s probably just trying to get a read on him, a flash of heat skitters over Nezumi’s skin. He shifts fractionally and Shion’s eyebrows twitch up in equal measure. Shion stops pretending to be fascinated with the door, and Nezumi has a sense that he’s given something crucial away.

“No. Well—not exactly,” Shion says. “I want you to move in with me.”

Nezumi’s mind sticks.

Move in. Shion isn’t trying to get rid of him. In fact, Shion isn’t tired of him at all. He wants to live with him again.

Which is…terrifying? Exciting? Baffling and blessed and wholly unexpected. Nezumi isn’t sure how to feel about this sudden invitation, because he hasn’t belonged somewhere in years. He had never thought he was the type to stay put.

Until Shion.

His whole impetus for slowing down and returning was Shion. They’ve been stuck in each other’s orbits since they were twelve years old, and Nezumi has finally reached the point where he’s ready to submit to the gravity of them. But that’s a two-way street, and Nezumi expected he would have to match Shion’s patience if he ever had a chance of winning him back. If he and Shion ended up together, this time it wouldn’t be an arrangement of convenience or necessity; it would be because they had chosen to build a life side by side.

And Shion is asking me to live with him again.

Nezumi realizes he’s been silent too long when Shion starts twitch and flutter, a telltale sign he’s about to launch into a nervous ramble. God, Nezumi is so grateful time hasn’t trained that quirk out of him.

“I know it’s kind of… Kind of quick, maybe?” Shion babbles. “And maybe it’s a little backwards, since we’re not…together anymore, yet, and people usually move in after they’re already together, but…” He flushes, but pushes through the stumble quickly. “But we’ve done it before, and it worked then, and I think it will work just as well now. Better, even. We’re older, and we both know what we want out of life—and each other.”

Not the most coherent speech, but Nezumi agrees with all the sentiments. Even so, he finds himself asking, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Maybe it’s a dumb question in light of Shion’s confession, but Nezumi has to ask it. He has to hear the answer in order to quell the doubts bubbling up from the darkest parts of his mind, the parts that have grown quieter as he’s grown, but still whisper he’s not worth it, that he’s twisted and broken and taints any goodness that comes his way.

“I’m sure,” Shion says. “I’ve thought a lot about it and I realized something.” He takes a deep breath and stares directly into Nezumi’s eyes as he says, “I don’t need you anymore, Nezumi. I can get on just fine without you; I know that. But I want you in my life. And it seems like you want that too?”

“Yes.” Nezumi’s answer lacks Shion’s conviction, but it’s alright; Shion knows him well enough to realize he wouldn’t agree to something so serious if he isn’t committed. “I would like that.”

Shion releases a small breath. “So it’s a yes?” He slides a bit closer along the counter. “You’ll move in? You don’t have to. I know it’s fast and you’re used to being alone. I won’t be offended if you need more time.”

“I don’t. I’ve had plenty of time to think too, you know.”

“Right,” Shion laughs lightly. “Okay. Good.”

Nezumi and Shion smile at each other in the wake of their new understanding. Despite the wintry draft slipping in under the front door, the kitchen feels warm.

Too warm.

“I’m not as clean as you,” Nezumi blurts. Moving in together is fun in theory and Nezumi definitely wants to, but it’s only fair he be upfront about what Shion’s about to get stuck with.

Shion’s smile is incandescent. “I know. It’s fine.”

“And I’m told I still kick in my sleep.”

“I have a queen bed now, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I shower in the mornings, and it takes at least twenty minutes, so you’ll have to factor that in when you get up for work.”

“I shower at night, so I think it’ll be fine.” Shion pauses. “But twenty minutes is a long time. What do you do in there for so long?”

Nezumi ignores the question and launches into his next point. “You’re going to need more bookcases. At least two more. I have a shit ton of books; they barely fit in my room as it is.”

Shion glances at his back wall. “I’ve been meaning to buy more anyway.” He raises his eyebrows. “Anything else?”

A million other things, but Nezumi decides that’s enough for the moment. Shion’s eyes are wide and full of laughter and the bit of scar peeking out from his unbuttoned collar is all of a sudden very distracting.

“You better not change your mind about this,” warns Nezumi. “Once I move in, I’m not leaving again.”

Shion’s eyes flash. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Nezumi can’t help but smile when he answers, “A promise.”

Shion lifts his chin and nods, evidently pleased. They regard each other shyly for a moment before Shion decides to diffuse the tension by announcing they’re going to watch a movie.

Ten minutes in and Nezumi pretends not to notice when Shion’s head starts to nod. Twenty minutes in, and Shion is back to being face-down on the throw pillow. Nezumi abandons the movie-watching farce and watches Shion sleep instead.

This is what I’m signing up for, Nezumi thinks, shaking his head. Night after night of Shion asleep and defenseless on the couch. He cards his fingers through the fluffy white hair at the nape of Shion’s neck.

He can hardly wait.

[poe30]

Summer Love: Final Part

SummarySummer Love:  Julie’s older cousin comes for a summer visit from the east coast, unaware of just what she’s going to get herself into, while helping out. But she’s got a secret of her own, one she’s hid from most of the family, and it includes her 6th sense. Will she be able to help save the ghost band from their curse or will it all blow up in their faces? Especially when a summer love blossoms between one of the ghost boys and herself.Pairings: Ghost!Luke x Fem!Reader

~~~

The performance was much better than anyone could think of, everyone laughing as they walked towards the house, Julie excusing herself and headed towards the studio. [y/n] hummed lowly, assuring the other two she’d go check on her in a few minutes, letting Jules have a few minutes to herself, knowing what she was doing. Quickly, she had changed into something more comfortable, before making her way out to the studio, telling the two not to wait up for them. She couldn’t help but slow down, coming to a full stop when she reached the studio, her heart beating fast as she took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down, only to grow confused when she saw a quick flash of glow from inside.

[y/n] couldn’t believe what was happening in front of her. The boys were glowing, almost like they were coming back alive in a sense. Her eyes going wide, is this what they needed to defeat Caleb with? Tears slowly pouring down her face when she realized it was indeed the missing piece her friends and her were looking for.

“I feel stronger!” Luke couldn’t help but be excited, catching er standing by the doors.

“Group hug!” [y/n] didn’t know how she got dragged into the middle of the group hug, but she wasn’t going to complain as she held onto Luke.

“I wonder if this will work on Willie..” Alex couldn’t help but try to be positive, as the group broke off, Luke’s arms not leaving her waist, as he held her close. “It’s worth a shot, right [y/n]?” Alex had hope in his eyes as they turned to look at the girl. The expression on her face, made them unsure and quite nervous for her answer.

“Its not gonna have the same effect, there will be complications..” looking over at him, she couldn’t help but grin, “But, it’ll work. An, I’ll need your guys help to make it work.” her tone turned serious, all of them instantly agreeing, not knowing exactly how this plan would go off, and she knew if they would find out what exactly she planned, they would a hundred percent disagree with it. Grabbing her phone, she leaned back against Luke, calling Rex once more.

“Come on...answer you prick..” murmuring to herself as it continued to ring, before he finally picked up. Not even giving him the chance to speak, “Plan is complete, I found the final missing piece. Tell the others the plan is a go for tomorrow night at the spot.” Smiling softly as she shooed Luke away from kissing her neck.

“Are you serious? That’s great! I’ll let them know. Rest up Queen, you’ll need it.” Before he hung up, ignoring the little questionable looks from Luke. Reassuring him, that what planned usually took up a lot of energy. It was true to a point, she wasn’t fully lying to him, it would take up ninety-nine percent of her energy.

“Well the bands back, congrats guys.” changing the topic, as excitement filled the air once more. The girls hanging around a little longer in the studio before calling it a night, bidding the boys a goodnight as they headed into the house.

“Never thought my little cousin would have powers, let alone that one.” ruffling Julies hair softly, chuckling lightly, Julie couldn’t help but ask what she meant about that. Falling back onto [y/n]’s bed, she placed her bag next to the bed before joining her cousin on the bed,

“You have the same power grandfather did. We call it the ‘Light of Life.’ The name is pretty much self explanatory, not everyone can possess that power. Its rare and even rarer for two members of the same family to have it.” She explained, leaning back next to her.

“Now that the boys have felt the power, they’ll slowly become human again.” murmuring out quietly, as she sighed.

“That’s good though, right? They can finally make their dream come true.”

“Yeah in a sense, we both know they’re too stubborn to cross over at this point even with the opportunity in front of them.” Staying in silence for a little, [y/n] sighed, “Get some sleep Jules, we’re gonna need it for tomorrow night.”

~~~

[y/n] hummed lowly with the music that drifted from the radio, the boys in the backseat as Julie had called shotgun, the windows down as she drove them away from the ocean. Her bag by Julies feet, as her fingers tapped to the music on the steering wheel, but was actually to help soothe her nerves. Even with having done this before, it was still always nerve wracking for her. Turning onto a dirt road, she ignored the conversations that was going around her, her being too busy to calm her mind. Throwing the jeep in park, she sighed as she leaned back against the seat, turning the vehicle off.

“Don’t be alarmed if my friends talk to you, they can see ghosts like we can.” Grabbing the bag, the girl got out, shoving the keys in her bag as they made their way over to four others.

“This is Rex, Ray, Sasha and Claire. Guys this is my cousin, Julie. Along, with Reggie, Alex and Luke.” the [h/c] colored girl did quick introductions, knowing it’d be best to get them over with. Sasha and Claire dragging the girls a bit away, letting the boys make some conversation.

“So you’re the one whose stolen our precious Ice Queens heart huh?” The question more so threw the boys off, before asking what they meant about her, chuckling softly at the trio the two boys explained,

“She usually doesn’t open up to others and can usually come off as cold and distant, along with being blunt.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember she was like that when we all first meet. She even threatened to break our bones.” Reggie admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, as the girls came back over.

“Sounds like something she’d do. You wouldn’t be the first ghosts she’d done that too.” Rex chuckled, causing the girls to roll their eyes as Julie stood next to the band.

“Can we just get this over with?” [y/n] sighed, letting her shoulders sag in slight defeat. She was just ready to get this whole damn thing over with. The other four quietly agreed, before they all started walked to the clearing, Julie motioning the boys to follow them. The five of them placed their bags down once they’d gotten to the clearing, [y/n] grabbing a book out of her bag and handing it to Ray.

“Now Jules, you know what to do right?” her voice ringing softly throughout the open area, as her cousin nodded, letting out a small ‘yep’. Luke, on the other hand, could only take in the sight of [y/n] underneath the moonlight. How the moonlight casted over her form, her [e/c] glowed in the dark when she glanced back at the group. He had definitely just fallen even deeper in love with the girl.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road. You’ll have about a half hour to forty five minutes to get this done.” Ray told her as they finished setting everything up. Humming softly, she nodded,

“That should be more than enough, Jules come here, you three too.” Her voice was serious as they all walked over to her, the other four standing off a little bit in a square around them.

“Alright, Reggie, Alex, Luke, place one of your hands on my arms or shoulders. It doesn’t matter which. Jules,” She held out her hand, as the girl placed her hand in her cousins, letting their fingers intertwine.

“Whatever you do, do not, remove your hands off my body. No matter what happens, keep them there.” Once all three boys did what she told them, [y/n] took a deep breath, giving them all a nod. The four of them instantly begin, as she relaxed her body,

“Try and stay relaxed and calm. Don’t freak out.” She murmured to the four closest to her. Already feeling herself get a bit lightheaded, letting her eyes close as she concentrated. Feeling a bit lightheaded, she squeezed Julies hand, letting her know to start. Julie sighed, closing her eyes as she concentrated, her body instantly glowing a gold color, soon enough the four boys started glowing as well, as it slowly seeped through [y/n]. With a bit of pain, she groaned as she stepped out of her body.

“God, that never gets easier.” She murmured, her outfit completely different from her jean shorts and tank top with a flannel. She was now in black ripped skinny jeans, a gray tank top with a black leather jacket. Rubbing the back of her neck, she let it crack as the four gaped, glancing between both of her.

“Just remember, don’t let go. Ill try and be fast.” with a snap of her fingers, she was gone.

“What the fuck just happened…”

~~~~

[y/n] hummed, poofing into The Hollywood Ghost Club. Chuckling a little darkly, she let a small smirk over come her face as she slowly walked down the hall, her nails making a noise as she raked them against the wall. Many of the ghosts she passed, backed away, sensing the kind of power she had, before she spotted Willie among them. Giving him a friendly smile, she nodded, letting him know it was time. Willie didn’t waste time as he ushered the ghosts to where the others where. Letting them poof out one by one before only Willie was left.

“Callie’s in the dressing room behind the stage.” Giving him a nod, she let him poof out, making her way towards said dressing room. Giving it a small knock, she poofed in, not giving her any time to answer.

“Yohoo babe. It’s been awhile.” [y/n] smiled as Callie ran into her arms, her red hair flowing behind her as the girl latched onto her.

“How...how are you here..” She whispered out, not letting go of her friend, not believing she was actually in front of her.

“That’s not important, what’s more important is getting you out of here for now.” She whispered back to the girl, gripping her shoulder as she felt a power behind her. Smirking to herself,

“An, where exactly are you taking my bunny, little sparrow?” Calebs voice rang out behind them as Callie froze, before backing off of [y/n]. The [h/c] girl sighed, before turning to him.

“It’s finally nice to meet, Caleb Convington. I’ve heard so much about you.” The girl’s voice held nothing but genuine kindness, but there was something definitely hidden underneath her words, Caleb noted.

“Oh? I’m glad to know that, little sparrow. But, I’m afraid I don’t know who you are. Would you mind telling me?” He gave her a smile, not moving from his spot, getting a bad vibe from the girl in front of him, and the small smirk that etched its way on her face, proved his point.

“Oh, I’m no one special.” She shrugged nonchalantly, making sure to keep Callie behind her, glad she was staying quiet for the time being.

“Is that so? No mere ghost can usually get in here without invitation from me. So how did you get in sparrow?”

“Have you ever heard of someone called, Queen?” The words dripped off her tongue as Caleb felt a chill run through him as the name suddenly popped into his mind. He knew exactly who Queen was.

“I believe so, little sparrow. Do you have beef with her as well?” He cautiously asked, not knowing if the girl infront of him was friend or foe. The smirk quickly widened, as her eyes got a little darker.

“Me? Beef with someone with that power. Yeah no, I don’t have a death wish.” She waved her hand absentmindedly,

“Oh please, sparrow. She’s nothing to brag about. She won’t be able to harm you as long as you stay here with me.” He could finally feel the power the girl was giving off, and he knew that right then and there he wanted the girl on his side.

“Is that so? Glad to know.” Tilting her head to side lightly, she flicked her wrist, instantly sending him into the mirror, a dark expression covering her face. Caleb groaning when he smashed into the glass, giving the girl a glare as he got up, brushing off his suit.

“That wasn’t nice sparrow. If it’s a fight you want, I’ll gladly give you one.” He threatened, his staff poofing into his hand.

“Bitch please. Do you even know who I am?” Her voice held venom, “Let me fill you in on something sparrow, I’m your worst nightmare, and your reign ends tonight.” She spat, as the two instantly began to fight, throwing blows at each other.

“Callie, get out of here.” She ordered, blocking one of his attacks, as she flicked her wrist again, sending him flying through the wall and onto the dance floor.

“I’m not going to leave you here, [y/n]!” Calebs eyes widening at the name, as he slowly got up. He knew that name, it was one of the very few he feared.

“Don’t worry about me, ‘kay?” giving her friend a small smile, before Callie poofed out of there with Willie. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to get this over with, she only had a few minutes left before her time was up. Silently stalking towards her prey, she forced him back down onto the floor, her power coming out full force.

“I see my name rings a bell. Too bad, I have to end things here and now.” Queen sighed, tilting her head as she grinned.

“W-what do you mean? You can’t get rid of me!” He tried to protest, not being able to get up under her powers.

“Wanna bet? They don’t call me Queen for nothing. Like I said, your reign ends here, Caleb. Your wife is pretty pissed at you too. Tell her I said hello okay?” She gripped onto his suit, bringing him up so his face was infront of hers, and was satisfied when she saw his eyes held a hint of fear in them.

Alright, Claire, Sasha. Time to wrap it up.

The girls hummed back as her hands slowly glowed a soft black, murmuring some ancient words, Calebs protests grew quieter and quieter before she finished the spell.

“Have a nice life in the afterlife. God knows you’ll be judged for the things you’ve done. Don’t worry, your little club will be taken care of.” Giving him one more grin, she watched as he grew more and more transparent before he was completely gone. Standing straight back up, she groaned, her head pounding as she poofed back towards the others. Blinking softly as she saw all the ghosts there, along with Callie. Letting out a shaky breath.

“Everyone listen up. Caleb is now gone, forever. You’re free from his curse. You now have the decision to make if you’d like to stay here on Earth or cross over.” Her voice rang out as the ghosts began to talk amongst themselves, Callie running up to her best friend.

“Callie, you have the choice to stay or go. If you stay, the club will be in your hands and you can run it however you’d like.” Giving her friend a painful smile, the pounding now worsening, as the group still touching her was worried and concerned.

“[y/n], you don’t have long, get back in your body now.” Rex’s voice rang out, as she sighed, gripping her head.

“Whatever your decisions are, talk it up to the other four, they’ll help you with your choice.” Was the last thing she said as she merged back with her body, her body instantly going limp, as Luke caught her. Her breathing was a little irregular and jaded as she didn’t move, her face being a little pale. Luke trying everything he could to get her to wake up.

“She’s not gonna wake up. She used up all of her energy, regular and spiritually. Let her have a few days rest and she’ll be back to normal.” Sasha came over, giving the girl a few head pats, humming softly, “Atleast three days before she’ll wake up. You four are more than welcome to stay with us till she wakes up.” She offered, walking off to help the other three with the ghosts.

~~~

The four of them ended up taking Sasha’s offer, wanting to be close to their friend. Luke haven’t leaving her side as he silently watched her sleep. Noticing, how her face had gained color again after the first day.

“I guess I can catch you up huh? I’m not sure if you’ll remember or not. But, your friend Callie, ended up taking over the Ghost Club, a few ghosts decided to cross over, the rest decided to stick around with helping Callie.” His hand grabbing one of hers, his fingers brushing against her knuckles. “Julie, she ended up helping your friends and was able to help Willie be like us. So Alex and him are over the moon.” He continued on, updating her on everything that has been going on the past few days. From news to the music they’ve been working on to help distract the group from what went down.

“Well.. I’m glad everything worked out then for everyone..” your raspy sleepy groaned out, giving his hand a small squeeze as his head whipped to her now awake. Her head was still thudding, just not as bad as before, as she slowly sat up. His eyes widened as she rose a brow at his weird behavior, before shrugging it off and taking the medicine that rested on the bedside table, washing it down with the water. He didn’t take no time in crushing her in a hug after she was done, taking her by surprise as she slowly wrapped her arms around him.

“Never, do that again.. please..” he whispered out, causing her to blink and push him back lightly.

“You do realize its my job right? Just usually never to that extent.” She thought, shrugging as she gave him a small smile, “I don’t usually go ghost much, Caleb’s case was an exception though that needed to happen. But I’ll try to tone down, worry wart.” She couldn’t help but reassure him, before feeling his lips on hers. Her eyes widening slightly, before she kissed him back,

“Good, cause I love you.. and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” his forehead resting against hers, her being able to see all the emotions running through his eyes, along with the gentle smile on his face.

“I love you too, Luke..” She hummed, giving him her own gentle smile back as she brought him in for another kiss. Maybe visiting her cousin was the thing she needed the most outside of her work for the summer. It was worth it in the end, and the others couldn’t help but agree.

*I know its been awhile since I've updated, between the writing, I've had some curveballs being thrown in my life, that I didn't expect to happen or even deal with. I'm sorry for making you guys wait for the final part of this story. I'll slowly be starting on proof reading the Reggie x Reader story I have planned, along with other stories I have drafted up as well.*

Taglist: @crybabyddl

[lunnanunna]

Needs to Stop Pt. 2

STRAY KIDS Extra Member AU

Sumamry: Jisoo returns and Ollie tries to stand up for herself.

Warnings: Swearing and violence.

Taglist: @hyunmijung​ @changbinnieslaugh​ @galacticstxrdust​ @giant-puppy-yunho​

A/N: I have no idea what I just wrote. I don’t even know if I like it. But I need to get this story moving.🙂

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

“Okay, Ollie. You’re the last one left. Once you get your outfit on, we’ll do a last minute touch up on your hair and make up right before you hit the stage,” Chaeyoung, one of the stylists said.

Ollie nodded her head and walked over to the corner of the green room where a door that led to a small room was. It was where each of the members of Stray Kids had gone to quickly change outfits after their first performance, and into their next set of clothes.

They were at a music show promoting God’s Menu and were getting ready for their second performance of the show. All of the boys were done and Ollie was the last one to get ready.

She quickly entered the small room and saw her outfit laid out. Removing her current outfit, she reached to grab the teal slip dress. Once on, she put on a pair of safety shorts, adjusting them so they comfortably hugged her hips and hid all the right parts. (No need to flash everyone.)

She put her black combat boots back on and the denim jacket, then took a quick look in the mirror, listening as all the chattering of the boys quieted down. Ollie moved a bit quicker knowing that they were leaving the room to make their way to the stage to wait for their turn.

Ready, Ollie grabbed the handle on the door and turned it. The sight that greeted her was definitely not one that she would have wanted to see. Her blood chilled.

Jisoo stood by the door. Locking it. She looked at Ollie, no mask or hat this time. The girl, who definitely looked younger than Ollie, looked like she hadn’t slept in days. Her skin was pasty, and the dark circles under her eyes, were the darkest Ollie has ever seen on someone. Jisoo was really looking the part of the deranged stalker.

“Ollie,” Jisoo greeted, taking a step towards the dancer.

On instinct, Ollie took a step back. She warily eyed the girl then the door. If it was locked, it would be harder for Ollie to escape, but not impossible. She just had to get by Jisoo.

Ollie steeled herself, and looked up at Jisoo, her eyes set hard. “Jisoo-ssi,” Ollie said, impressed that her voice was so steady. She straightened her back, squaring her shoulders.

“I’m glad I'm finally going to be able to talk to you alone. It’s been hard, with all the boys, staff, and now the bodyguards,” Jisoo said, running her fingers through her naughted hair. Ollie internally grimaced at the sight.

“Really? If you wanted to talk, you could have come to me like any normal person would,” Ollie folded her arms over her chest. She was going to keep her talking. It was time Ollie ended this.

“Well, I don’t really want to talk to you. At least not like your usual fans,” Jisoo tilted her head to the side, looking at Ollie, smirking. “I’m. Not. A. Fan. So please don’t insult me.” She smiled a sickly sweet smile.

Ollie raised a brow at her. The hell was this girl talking about? She was giving major creeper vibes. A shiver ran up Ollie’s spine.

“Okay. Understood,” Ollie stared her down, as she walked closer. “So then what do you want to talk about? You’ve got me all to yourself, though it may not be for long, seeing as I have to be on stage soon. People will come looking for me,” Ollie said looking at the clock by the wall. She had about fifteen minutes before they had to go up on stage. Hopefully someone came looking for her.

“Oh, don’t worry. This won’t take long,” the dark haired girl said, moving so fast, that Ollie had no time to react.

Ollie swallowed hard as Jisoo stood a mere few inches from her. She could feel her breath as it fanned her skin. The raven haired girl almost gagged at the smell. (Jisoo must really be going through it.) The dancer took a deep breath, trying to settle her nerves. She needed to stand her ground, she’d freak out later when she was alone.

“Okay, talk then,” Ollie waved her hand as if to say ‘Go on.’

Jisoo removed her hands from where they rested in her pockets, and for a quick second, Ollie thought that she may pull out a weapon. (Ollie had seen too many movies.) Instead, Jisoo's hands were empty.

Before Ollie could even breathe a sigh of relief, she felt herself being pushed backwards. Jisoo had actually pushed her. Ollie braced herself, landing on her butt, her arms breaking the fall. She groaned in pain, but couldn’t focus on it very long as she dodged a kick.

“What the hell?!” Ollie exclaimed as she crawled back like a crab. Jisoo smirked as Ollie’s back hit the couch behind her. The girl sent a kick into Ollie’s stomach, and all Ollie could do was groan, doubling over. “Fuck.”

“You see, Ollie,” Jisoo said her name as if it burned her tongue, “I’m just one of the many fans that feels that you should have left the group ages ago, or better yet, never joined. I’m sorry to say this, but Chan-oppa actually made a mistake in choosing you.” She sent another kick into Ollie’s side, not giving her enough time to dodge.

“And you think, using me as a punching bag will solve the problem?” Ollie grunted, holding her side. She looked up at Jisoo and saw the craze look in her eye. Ollie had to get out of there as soon as possible.

“Not really. This is more of a warning. Leave and no harm will come to you.” Jisoo crouched in front of Ollie, and yanked on her hair, forcing the dancer to look at her.

“You don’t scare me.” That was a lie. It was a complete lie. Ollie was absolutely terrified. “I’d never leave my boys.” Ollie smirked as Jisoo’s face dropped. The victory was short lived, as Jisoo smashed Ollie’s head against the floor.

The world spun, as a ringing made itself known in Ollie’s ears. The pain shot through her head, red hot. Ollie opened her eyes only to see her vision blur. Her senses were muffled, as she tried to focus on something. Anything.

“Bitch.” Of course Ollie’s senses would pick that up. She groaned as she watched Jisoo walk away. It looked like she was grabbing something from one of the couches (Probably an item of one of the boys.)

Ollie made to get up just as Jisoo left the room, closing the door behind her, but dropped back on the ground, when everything spun. (She felt like she was going to be sick.) It had been a while since Ollie had had a concussion, but she remembered the feeling all too well.

Tears burned Ollie’s eyes as she laid on the ground, unable to move from the pain. She hated the idea of someone, especially one of the boys, finding her like this.

Groaning through the pain, Ollie pushed herself up and leaned back against the side of the couch. The room spun even faster, and Ollie had to close her eyes. 

Her phone was in her bag, so she wouldn’t be able to call anyone. She just prayed to any deity that was listening (She was an atheist, but she thought she’d give it a try.) that someone would come looking for her soon.

After what felt like hours, but was really only like five minutes, the door opened. Ollie half expected to see Jisoo. Her heart beat slowed a bit, when she saw Chan poke his head in. Then it picked back up at the shocked look on his face. 

Ollie could only imagine what she must look like. Makeup running from all the crying, hair disheveled, on the floor, leaned up against the couch, clutching her side. (Sorry Channie.)

“Ollie? What- I- Shit,” Chan struggled to form words, even in English. He raced over to her.

“Just- Don’t,” Ollie held up a finger. She didn’t want to deal with anything right now. She knew for a fact that there was no way she’d be able to do their last stage, so she just wanted to skip that conversation and go straight to the part where she’d go to the hospital.

“Let me get manager-hyung,” Chan made to move, but froze, looking at Ollie. She could see tears forming in his eyes. See the tremor in his hand. And as much as she hated the fact that Chan found her, she’d prefer it over one of the kids.

“It’s getting really bad, Chan,” Ollie said, more tears slipping. Judging by the look on Chan’s face, Ollie could tell that he knew that Jisoo was the one who had done this.

“It’s gonna be okay. Okay?” Chan wrapped Ollie in his arms holding her. Ollie in turn, wrapped her arms around him, crying into his chest. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle this.

Ollie’s Masterlist