#and a passing knowledge of some weird new tech stuff now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hugmekenobi · 2 years ago

Text

S2: The Bad Batch (5)

Chapter Five: Entombed

Gif by @tommy-millers

Hunter x femaleJedi!reader

Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you're having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.

Chapter Summary: A proposed mission by Phee interrupts a planned break for you and Hunter and this mission is anything but relaxing.

Masterlist for S1

<Previous Chapter

Genre: Friends (idiots) to Lovers (we're in the lovers stage now)

Chapter Warnings: I make up a timeline, fluff and the slight awkwardness that comes with these fools figuring out relationship stuff, canon-typical violence, couple brief instances of mild innuendo, kissing, Phee gets a bit of a hard time (will not be a consistent theme), mild injury mention/description

Word Count: 7.7K

Author's notes: Another one done! Appreciate the patience, I had a few days of just feeling really tired which threw off the schedule a bit lol but hope y'all enjoy! Excited to start work on Ch6!

“Can I ask you something?”

You stopped absentmindedly browsing the various stalls and narrowed your eyes at the man whose hand was currently intertwined with yours. “Why do you sound nervous?”

“Probably because I’m going to make a mess of this.” He mumbled self-consciously.

You continued to look at him sceptically as you began to walk back to Cid’s parlour. The two of you had wanted a bit of time to yourselves whilst you were free from any missions and had decided to grab some time away. You all suspected the shortage of work came from a petty Cid who didn’t take too kindly to Hunter ensuring that she stopped any further cutbacks on the shares she granted you all.

In a weird way, it had a small silver lining. Wrecker and Omega now had some free time and were running an errand of the scavenging variety for Tech and there had been some time to do something just the two of you. Of course, credits were short, so it took the form of just a casual wander around, but you didn’t mind it at all.

“You know that new hotel that just opened up?” Hunter continued.

“The one that looks too nice for a place like this and is cash only and most definitely a front for money laundering?”

“Yeah.”

“What about it?”

“Well… we’re not on a mission… and uh I figured we could use the time off to get some proper time away with um just the two of us. What do you think?”

Of all the things for him to suggest, you wouldn’t have guess that. You turned and gave him a broad smile. “I’d love to!”

“Yeah?” Hunter asked, his face brightening.

“Yeah!” You confirmed happily and you gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “But what’s the real occasion? Usually booking time on the Marauder works just fine and you don’t get all nervous asking for it. Spill.”

Hunter looked away from you for a moment and rubbed the side of his neck awkwardly. “I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“Hunter, I promise I will not think it is stupid. Tell me.” You prompted gently.

Hunter cleared his throat. “I had thought it could be a kinda belated six-month anniversary type… thing….” He trailed off as he awaited your reaction, but you gave nothing away. He hesitated for a moment, taking your silence as a sign he’d gotten something wrong. “That’s a thing people do, right? People who aren’t in our particular situation I mean.”

Your knowledge on the subject was just as limited as his but you loved that he was saying it. The thought had crossed your mind, but you hadn’t expected anything, the cards just hadn’t been dealt in your favour. Until now. Evidently you were silent in your appreciation for too long because Hunter started backtracking.

“I’m sorry I missed the actual day and um things have been a bit hectic, we can just forget the whole thing and move on. We don’t have-” Your finger on his lips interrupted his ramble.

You didn’t think it was possible to love him more yet somehow seeing him pushing himself out of his normal comfort zone for something like this made it possible. “What you have just offered is incredibly sweet and thoughtful. I had just never considered it as possibility given our rather hectic schedule and I didn’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on things. Also, with regards to the date, that’s flexible given the uh other events that day brought.” You said uneasily before you wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled into him as the two of you continued your stroll. “I love you. It sounds perfect.”

“Good.” Hunter replied softly. He’d pushed his comfort zone further than he ever had before by bringing this whole idea up but your enthusiasm and not feeling entitled to something like this in the first place made him feel much better about the whole thing.

The two of you turned the corner to where Cid’s parlour was and started to slow down. You weren’t quite ready to go back yet. You broke the quiet first. “How exactly are we going to pay for this?”

“Eh I kinda figured with our skillsets… we… um… wouldn’t really need to.”

You pulled back so you were walking more side by side rather than you pressed into an uncoordinated angle at his side and your smile widened. “Law breaking and room service? You sure know how to treat a woman.”

“Does it count as law breaking if the establishment is most likely breaking the law anyway?” Hunter disputed in a good-humoured manner.

“Call it a grey area.” You said with a dismissive wave of your hand.

Hunter hummed and gently pushed you back against the wall. “You’re definitely comfortable with this?” He needed to make sure. In an ideal galaxy, he’d actually have the funds to take you to a place like that and to one that wasn’t involved in money laundering. Of course, in an ideal galaxy, going on a break would involve leaving a home that wasn’t quite as portable as his current one.

“Definitely.” You confirmed, kissing him once more. After a few seconds, you pulled away with an important realisation. “There will be a proper bed!”

“I hear that’s part of the appeal.” Hunter said drily as he left a light trail of kisses along your neck.

“You know what that means though?”

Hunter brought his eyes up to meet yours.

“We could actually sleep for 8 hours! Come on, when was the last time you could say that?” You said playfully.

Hunter huffed out a laugh. “Silly me for thinking something else.”

You pretended to look offended by the suggestion. “Get that mind out the gutter, Sergeant.” You nudged past him and made your way towards the steps that led down to Cid’s. But yes, we gotta earn those 8 hours after all.

Hunter caught up to you and grabbed you and playfully imparted a series of quick kisses on your neck whilst he tickled your sides.

You couldn’t help laughs that left you and you batted his hands away. The good-natured fun swiftly evaporated as you both saw Phee sitting in the parlour entertaining Bolo and Ketch.

You both shared a look of mild irritation. You hadn’t really warmed to the pirate yet, the only thing she had going for her right now was she seemed good with Omega, and you sensed good vibes between her and Tech. The two of you walked over to the bar counter where Echo and Tech were sitting. You tuned into the story she was telling Cid’s two regulars.

“I had no choice but to fend off the Octomorph. Bare-handed.”

You rolled your eyes at the familiar tale and wondered which parts would receive embellishment this time whilst Bolo and Ketch released gasps of admiration.

“This story changes every time she tells it.” Tech said.

“You’ve been listening every time she tells it?” You responded elbowing him in a teasing fashion.

Tech just furrowed his brow at you and went back to his datapad.

Hunter just sighed. “Those two’ll believe anything.”

You glanced at him. It was like being back in this place sucked all the energy out of him and any pleasant mood he was once in was just replaced by tiredness and your heart went out to him. A night away would do him some good. The sound of the door opening, and Wrecker’s laugh caused you all to look towards them.

“Mission accomplished! One compressor, as requested.” He said cheerfully as he tossed it to Tech.

Tech caught and examined it. “Ah. Nicely done, Wrecker.”

“That’s not all we got.” Omega said triumphantly as she dumped the various other things she found with Wrecker onto the table.

Tech wasn’t too impressed. “This assortment, however, could have been left at the junkyard.”

“Easy, quick draw.” Phee interrupted as she examined the pile. “Let the expert take a look.”

“It is a manifold regulator. And a broken one at that.” Tech pointed out as she picked the item up.

You, Hunter, and Echo all shared a look, but small smiles graced your faces. You were still trying to warm up to her but the rapport she and Tech had developed wasn’t lost on you and it made you happy to see.

“Thanks, Clone Obvious.” Phee clapped back. It was then something in the stack caught her eye. “Hang on.” She picked up the flat, circular object and slid back part of it. “These look like coordinate markings.”

Omega gasped excitedly, “Coordinate markings?”

Phee turned back to face her droid. “Mel, take a look at this.”

Mel waddled over and shone a light through it which turned a pale purple.

“I was right. This is a compass.” Phee revealed. “One from long before our time.”

Mel let out a series of beeps.

“These coordinates are in the Kaldar Trinary system.” Phee explained.

Tech entered the name into his datapad. “I have no record of that system.”

“Because the best treasures aren’t usually found on maps.”

“There’s treasure there?!” Omega asked eagerly.

“Without a doubt.” Phee replied. “This compass is a rare find. You’ve got a good eye.” She complimented the young girl.

Hunter’s attention had become more focused on what Phee was saying and he was studying Omega’s reaction to it. He had a sinking feeling that a dangerous and unpredictable mission was heading his way and sure enough, Omega turned around with the enthusiastic request.

“Let’s go check it out. You heard Phee.”

“She says a lot of things.” He replied reservedly as he crossed his arms.

“I can go alone and take the spoils for myself. Or we go together and split it 50-50.” Phee offered as she put her arm around Omega and handed her the compass.

“Please, Hunter. What if there really is treasure there?” Omega asked keenly,

“Yeah. We’re not on a mission.” Wrecker added.

“It could be fun.” Omega said by means to convince him.

“The last time we went after treasure, it didn’t go as planned.” Echo countered.

“Yeah, I’m with Echo on that.” You agreed.

“You weren’t working with a professional then.” Phee said confidently.

“Right. ‘Professional.’” You grumbled with a scoff.

Phee ignored you and kept her attention on Hunter. “What do you say?”

Hunter looked to Echo who nodded in reluctant agreement before he looked to you and started to point between you and him. “We had…” He trailed off as he saw the hopeful and intrigued faces in front of him. His eyes darted back towards yours.

You gave a ‘well, what can we do’ shrug. You weren’t thrilled with this idea, the thought of poking around in a place where it sounded like it would be better left alone made you uncomfortable. Not to mention the other plans you had once had but the squad came first. Guess we gotta raincheck.

Hunter heaved an exhausted sigh and dipped his head in unenthusiastic agreement.

The others began to make their way out, but you hung back as you noticed the way Hunter’s shoulders sagged as he watched them go. You placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

Hunter appreciated the gesture and brought his hand up to rest it on yours. “What do you reckon the chances are that we find the treasure and get to leave without any trouble?”

You chuckled. “Just remember to breathe and it’s probably for the best that we go. I dread to think what would happen if we left them with Phee and Echo was on his own to supervise them.” With that, you both walked out the parlour to catch up with the rest of the group.

You and Hunter were stood in the hallway and watched as he played with his vibroblade, the sight always sent a warmth thrumming through your veins, but you knew he wasn’t doing it for your sake. Omega hadn’t left Phee’s side since you’d all boarded and she was mirroring all Phee did and you gathered Hunter was feeling a bit left out. Something you found rather endearing, but you were sure he would deny any such suggestion.

“How many uncharted planets have you been to?” Omega asked Phee as she copied Phee’s relaxed pose. Her hands were behind her head whilst her feet rested on top of Mel.

“Too many to count.” Phee replied before she sat up straight. “That’s why I need Mel to keep track of all the legends I’ve chased down over the years. That’s the life of a treasure hunter.”

Hunter stopped twirling the blade. “Don’t you mean ‘pirate’?”

Phee turned the seat to face him. “I prefer ‘Liberator of Ancient Wonders’.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the way you ‘liberate’ them is perfectly legit and the cash benefits are an added bonus and not the core reason. Only a pirate would have an attitude like that.” You said cynically with a frown.

Phee just shrugged before she faced Omega again. “Wanna hear about the time I found the Blade of Zakata Par?”

“Yes, I do!”

Hunter sighed as he sheathed his blade.

Aww, I was quite content to continue watching.

He gave you a half smile.

You came and stood beside him and gently pushed your hip into his. You okay?

Hunter indicated over to where Omega was staring wide eyed at Phee as she told her story. “Just don’t really want Omega getting caught up in all that. We still don’t really know her or how trustworthy she is.” He kept his voice low.

“Yeah, I don’t like her all that much either, but we haven’t exactly been amazing role models in terms of the ways to make a living department. Are you sure there isn’t more to it than simple distrust?” You whispered.

Hunter tilted his head at you. “Like what?”

“She looks up to you and now there’s someone else who is getting her attention.”

“She looks up to all of us.” Hunter deflected.

You gave him a pointed look. “Hunter, you know your relationship with her is different.”

Hunter let out a heavy breath. He wouldn’t quite admit to being jealous, but he figured he’d better check his attitude anyway. “What do you suggest I do? I can’t pretend I’m thrilled with what’s developing there.”

“Give Phee a chance. Maybe she’ll surprise us all.” You offered optimistically.

Hunter raised his eyebrows at you. “This is coming from you? Miss ‘only a pirate would have an attitude like that’.” He quoted back to you.

You jokingly punched his arm. “Fine, I’ll take my own advice too. We can both be open-minded together… like people in relationships do.” You added light-heartedly.

Hunter rolled his eyes before he planted a light kiss to your temple and the two of you made your way into the cockpit as the ship prepared to land.

You took in the dry, grey, and quite frankly dead, environment around you. It looked like whatever had once thrived here and been completely obliterated. The ground was dusty and cracked beneath your feet as you walked. You let Omega and Phee walk past you and you watched as Omega mimicked Phee in picking up a branch from a dead plant.

“I’m not picking up any signs of civilization whatsoever.” Tech said as he examined his datapad. “Which makes sense, considering this land appears to have been razed and left uninhabitable.”

“Who’d wanna hide treasure here?” Echo questioned.

A rapid beeping interrupted any potential answers.

“What was that?” Wrecker asked.

Echo studied the compass in his hand. “The compass just activated.” He held in in front of him and walked a few paces behind him. As the beeping started to fade, he turned around and walked a few steps forward and the beeping increased. “It’s telling us to go south.”

“Let’s go!” Omega said keenly as she grabbed the compass from Tech and ran off in front.

“Now she’s got the right attitude.” Phee commented. “Wait up, kid!” She called as she ran after her.

You released a distant sigh as the others wandered off too.

“What?” Hunter asked when he realised you had made no moves to follow them.

“I’m just thinking that right about now we would be sitting in a hotel room and scamming our way through a room service meal.”

Hunter exhaled heavily at the thought. That sounded very appealing right now. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you.” You reassured him. “If this pans out, we’ll get a better deal out of this than Cid would’ve ever offered us. I’m just thinking about what could’ve been. It’s my way of coping as we do this treasure hunt. Come one, we gotta catch up.”

You had been walking for a while and along the way, you had put your coverings up whilst the others donned their helmets since you weren’t sure what exactly would be waiting for you on this treasure hunt.

Omega stared at the compass as the beeping had suddenly stopped. “It’s a dead end.” She faced the mountainside. “Maybe we go around the mountain?” She mused.

“Or it’s telling us to go inside it.” Phee thought instead as she stared at the pile of rocks. She lowered her lantern and walked over to the rocks and slid her vibrosword in the gap in between the first two. One of the rocks fell away and she felt a mild gust of wind blow through. “Big guy, help me move this.”

Initially, Wrecker forgot that this sorta thing would fall back on his shoulders. He turned his helmet towards you first.

You jutted your chin forward in Phee’s direction. Well, I can’t do it.

Wrecker cleared his throat and marched forward and began to push the boulders away. A loud rumbling meant he and Phee had to quickly retreat back as the topside boulders come crashing down to reveal a gap in the mountain.

“Look! It’s a secret entrance.” Omega said breathlessly before she followed Phee inside.

“Oh! It is a secret entrance.” Wrecker repeated in awe.

Hunter didn’t want to linger too long so he tailed after Phee and Omega with the rest of you falling in behind him.

Flashlights and lanterns illuminate the small entryway room.

“Whoa.” Omega breathed as she examined the wall in the circular chamber you all now found yourselves in.

You looked at the wall and you could feel a deep sense of history resided in this place and you all definitely didn’t belong here. It made you feel rather uneasy.

Hunter noticed the way your back had stiffened and he gently touched your wrist.

You glanced down at his hand and then at the concerned helmet that was staring at you. I’m okay.

“Hunter, these etchings are easily a thousand years old.” Tech said to his brother.

“Older. Much older.” Phee corrected as she looked at the wall. “If I’m right, which is always, we are standing in the entranceway to Skara Nal.” She revealed as she faced the group behind her, but she was met with blank stares.

“To what?” Echo asked.

“Every pirate out there’s heard the legend of Skara Nal. It traces back to the ancients.”

“You mean the Jedi?” Echo said.

“No, they weren’t here.” You said quietly as you traced the markings on the wall, only half paying attention to what Phee was saying. The Jedi weren’t around when this place was.

Phee studied you curiously as your voice had taken on a tone she’d never heard before and it wasn’t one she expected from you. “She’s right. It’s older than that.”

“So, what kinda treasure’s in there?” Wrecker asked.

“The Heart of the Mountain.” Phee said in a dramatic and hushed fashion. “And we’re going to liberate it.” She faced the wall with the levers and shone her light to get a better idea of what you all would be dealing with. It would seem that each lever was responsible for that portion of the wall and moving them would see the smaller stone cubes with the markings on them align and, with any luck, open a doorway.

A bad feeling sank deep within your stomach upon being here. You really didn’t want to disturb anything, let alone the heart of the mountain.

“How do we get in?” Omega whispered.

“It’s a pattern.” Phee stated. “We need to align the symbols in the right order.” She braced her hands against the first bottom lever and moved it counterclockwise, but she couldn’t reach the one above her. “Some help would be nice.” She said pointedly.

Wrecker moved forward and pushed in the same direction Phee had done with the bottom one. The three symbols fell into place and a rumbling shook the inside of the chamber.

“That doesn’t sound good.” Hunter said nervously as the rumbling continued.

The ground you were all standing on suddenly spun and a door slammed across the way you came in and now your only way out was blocked.

You heard a cracking sound above you. “Wrecker, watch-” You didn’t need to finish your warning as you watched Phee push Wrecker out of the way of the falling boulder. Alright, you had to give her a point for that.

Hunter dashed around the rock to make sure his brother was okay and was relieved to see that he was.

“Booby traps. Now it’s getting interesting.” Phee said calmy as she stood up and massaged her shoulder.

“You’ve just trapped us in here.” Hunter snapped at her before he walked away to assess the new situation.

“Relax. There’s always a way out.” Phee replied breezily. “We just have to find it. It’s part of the puzzle.”

You caught Hunter’s shoulder as he walked past you. You looked at his covered face with concerned eyes. Breathe, remember? We’re all okay. Worst comes to worst, I’ll open the door and we can leave this whole treasure hunt behind.

Hunter took a deep breath and nodded before the two of you separated to continue to scan the room.

Phee caught the way the two of you were looking at each other. It looked like the two of you were having a conversation without any words. She wanted to put it down to couple intuition, but her instincts told her there was more to it, especially because something similar had happened with Wrecker earlier. For now, there were more pressing matters but her curiosity about this was certainly piqued.

Omega kept opening and closing the flap on the compass and it was then she noticed she could peer through the glass. She examined each of the symbols on the stones on the wall and found that some of them were shining with a pale blue light. She gasped, “Wait! We’re aligning the wrong symbols!” She ran up the boulder that had fallen and looked at more of the stones through the compass lens.

“What do you see?” Hunter asked her as he looked at the area that she was.

“Some of the symbols are glowing.”

“Here. Lay the compass on my lantern.” Phee directed as she placed her lantern on the rock.

Omega did so and sure enough, there was enough light being reflected now to illuminate all the symbols that they needed to line up.

Wrecker pushed the middle level clockwise to bring around the correct symbol for that row and then he and Tech pushed anticlockwise again on the lower level to put all three of the glowing symbols in a row.

The floor moved again, only this time, it reopened your original entrance and revealed another one for you to go through to continue your way into the mountain.

“Mel, note the coordinates and wait here.” Phee ordered her droid who beeped in confirmation. “Come on, kid. Time to go exploring.” She led the way and Omega fell in behind her.

Wrecker had shoved his helmet on top of his head and looked towards Hunter. “Looks like we’re doing this.” He said with a chuckle before he started walking.

“My interest is certainly piqued.” Tech mused as he kept his eyes on his datapad whilst he followed Wrecker.

Echo said nothing, he only glanced at Hunter and tilted his head in the direction of the others before he followed his brother.

Hunter looked at you and glanced back at the door behind the two of you.

Wanting to make a break for it?

Hunter grunted a short laugh. “Tempted to but no. Come one, we don’t wanna fall behind.”

You let out another wistful sigh.

“Now what?” Hunter queried as he walked past you.

Now, I’m thinking about the lacy red number that I was planning on wearing tonight.

Hunter stopped in his tracks and swallowed thickly under his helmet. “What?” He asked, his voice cracking.

The modulation of his helmet couldn’t hide the way his voice broke up. You smirked under your mask. “Yeah, I would’ve finally let Lyra give me it after weeks of telling her there was no point and I’d feel too awkward to ever wear it. Thought I finally had an occasion to fight that fear.” You sighed pensively again. “Guess not.”

“Are you trying to torture me?” He rasped.

“No, just simply keeping you informed of my coping and thought process.” You said cheekily as you stepped past him and patted the centre of his armoured chest.

He groaned and he wasn’t sure how but somehow, he was able to get his feet moving and follow you into the passageway.

“So, what exactly is the Heart of the Mountain?” Omega asked in a hushed whisper as she led the way with Phee.

“A rare crystalised stone. Some say it’s the key to an ancient power. Which makes it worth more than you could possibly imagine.”

“Sounds like it should be something that should remain untouched.” You muttered.

Phee faced you but walked backwards as she addressed you. “Don’t you have any curiosity? Instead of judging my line of work, why don’t you try and be open minded and try to experience the joy of the puzzle.”

“I don’t like messing with ancient relics. If it’s been here for hundreds of years, who are we to take it?” You argued. You guessed some sentiments expressed during history time at the temple had stuck with you.

“Open your mind.” Phee reiterated before she faced forwards again.

Hunter nudged your shoulder with his. “That you taking your own advice?” He teased.

“Shut up.” You grumbled. “I’ll get there eventually.”

You all walked down the dark tunnel- your only sources of light being your torches- but as you continued walking, you got a cold chill in your blood and you and Hunter both slowed to a stop at the same time. Echo and Wrecker followed your example.

“I have run a preliminary analysis of the minerals in those stone slabs. They predate the Republic. Phee may be onto something.” Tech said before he realised that his brothers had stopped walking and halted also.

Phee and Omega turned around when they noticed that the rest of you had stopped walking.

“Hey, tough guys. Want to pick up the pace?” Phee said.

It was the Omega noticed the way both your hand fell to your blaster with Hunter’s doing the same. “(Y/N), Hunter?” She asked warily.

It was then a deep growl echoed throughout the tunnel and you all pointed your flashlights to the hole in the ceiling. When nothing immediately appeared amiss, you focused in on the Force around you and it was then you sense the creature above you. “Wrecker, above you!”

Wrecker heard your warning a split second too late. The creature had pounced and pinned him to the ground, the only thing keeping the animal’s teeth from his throat was the grip he had on its horns. “It’s drooling on me!” Wrecker complained.

You all fired your blasters at the creature, but they had little effect.

Hunter made to move closer to the animal, but it lashed a paw out and smacked him, causing him to fall to his knees.

You took a second to make sure he was okay and when he got to his feet, you turned your attention back to the creature which had now gone back up to the gap in the wall and was attempting to bring Wrecker with it. You all paused your fire whilst Wrecker punched the side of the creature’s face.

Wrecker managed to rip a horn out which led to the animal dropping him.

Once he was safely out the way, you all continued to fire at the creature which caused it to retreat but the barrage of fire on the decrepit wall meant that a cascade of rocks came tumbling down.

You coughed and waved the dust away from your eyes and looked ahead of you. The hallway was now completely blocked with Echo, Tech, and Wrecker on one side and you, Hunter, Omega, and Phee on the other. A less than ideal situation.

“Echo, Tech, Wrecker, are you okay?” Omega asked urgently into her comm.

“We’re fine, but there’s too much debris. We can’t get through.” Echo replied.

“The readings in here are not as clear, but I can track your position.” Tech chimed in as he walked towards another cavity in the wall. “There are small side tunnels throughout. We will navigate a path and rendezvous with you at the other end.”

“Good. Then we’ll keep looking for the treasure.” Phee said into Omega’s comm. She felt you and Hunter pointedly staring at her. “What? That’s what we’re here for. They’ll be fine. Come on. Fortune awaits.”

She’s got a thing for Tech and she’s good with Omega. She’s got a thing for Tech and she’s good with Omega. You chanted inwardly since those were her only two saving graces right now. You looked at Hunter.

“Be open minded and breathe, right?” He said.

“Yup.” You said with a deep sigh before the two of you set off after her and Omega.

You all paused as you were greeted by the sight of the cylindrical tunnel but the sound of growling in the distance was too close for Hunter’s liking.

“We need to keep moving.” He said as he stepped into the tunnel first.

You watched him anxiously. Something was off, this felt far too simple. A thought you and Phee seemed to share.

“Hang on. This is too easy.” She said aloud.

Omega shone the compass on the ceiling and gasped. “Look, there are more markings.”

Your heartrate skyrocketed. Oh no. Hunter, stop! You dashed after him.

Hunter’s step faltered slightly.

“Wait!” Phee yelled as she fell into step beside you.

Your stomach dropped as you saw the ground beneath Hunter’s feet completely crumble away and he was falling through the floor.

Hunter acted quickly and threw his grappling hook.

You lunged and grabbed onto it and started to pull. Phee wrapped her arms around your waist to help and Omega held onto Phee’s as she joined the effort.

It felt like forever before you saw him reappear. Once you were sure he was back on solid ground, you let the wire go and kneeled beside him. “You and heights has got to be my least favourite combination.” You said shakily as you held him close to you.

Hunter squeezed you tightly before he pulled away and tenderly pressed his helmet to your forehead. “I’m okay.” He said, though his breathing was still coming through in short pants. That was too close.

“I think we have to find a way to walk across the ceiling.” Omega suggested as she looked through the compass and examined the symbols above her.

“My thoughts exactly.” Phee concurred.

You clenched your jaw so hard that your teeth hurt. You helped Hunter to his feet.

“You’re just making this up as you go.” Hunter said through heavy breaths.

“It’s part of the fun. Loosen up, Bandana. You’re in good hands.”

Now, you were pretty sure your lip was bleeding. You have a free pass to ignore my advice. I used mine earlier.

“We have almost died three times already.” He argued.

“This reminds me of the time I tracked down the Belmost diadem-”

“I don’t care.” Hunter interrupted sharply.

“Ooh. Someone’s in a mood.”

“Phee…” You warned her with a glare.

Hunter sighed and spoke calmly. “I’m only interested in us getting outta here in one piece.”

“It fits.” Omega had been paying little attention to the quarrel and had instead been looking at finding their way across. It was then she had noticed a gap in the wall that fit the shape of the compass and sure enough, the compass had slotted in perfectly. The symbols turned white, and Omega turned the notch so that the tunnel rotated, and the markings were now on the floor. She chucked a rock on them and was pleased to see that it safely rolled across. “All clear.” She went to get the compass, but it was engrained in the wall. “The compass. I can’t get it.”

Phee laid a reassuring hand on the young girl’s shoulder. “It’s served its purpose. Skara Nal’s reclaimed it.”

“Skara Nal has reclaimed it.” Omega repeated with wonder before she started to walk.

“So, we have to navigate this death trap without it?” Hunter asked Phee.

“Good thing you have me.” Phee replied positively before she walked away.

You and Hunter shared a glance as you both drew your blasters and followed.

“What took you so long?” Hunter asked as he saw his brothers emerge from the side tunnel.

“Phee thinks we’re getting close to the treasure.” Omega said eagerly before she faced the door the three of you had reached.

The three of them walked over to you.

“What type of puzzle is this?” Tech queried as he shone his torch on the door.

“Don’t overthink it, brown eyes.” She let go of her lantern and traced her hands down the centre of the door and paused when she reached the bottom and pulled out a switch. “Sometimes a door’s…” She trailed off and watched as the door slowly creaked open. “Just a door.” She winked at Omega as she saw the excited look on her face.

Phee shone her light into the vault, and she spotted the target. “There. The Heart of the Mountain.” She jumped onto the side ledge and started to make her way towards it, with you, Omega and Hunter following her whilst the others waited by the exit.

You all paused on the first ledge and watched her go towards to item.

You still had a very bad feeling about all this, and it ran much deeper than any uneasiness you felt towards Phee. You genuinely didn’t think this was going to end well. “Phee.” You called out nervously. “I’m really not sure about this. I promise this isn’t just me giving you a hard time, I don’t think we should mess around with that.”

Phee paid your words no attention and removed it. Just as she did so, a disturbing and violent rumble boomed throughout the room.

Wrecker and Echo turned back towards the door, but it had started to cave in and so they, along with Tech, were forced jump away and cling on to the edge of the ledge.

The room suddenly sounded like it was powering up and it was soon brightly lit up. A large blast reverberated through it and Hunter placed a hand on Omega’s chest to keep her from losing her footing.

Everything started to move, causing all of you to make your way down towards the bottom of it.

“I suspect this is not, in fact, a treasure vault.” Tech theorised.

“What was your first clue?” You shouted over the sound of creaking metal.

“What is it?” Omega asked.

“Good question.” Echo responded.

Another huge blast sounded from whatever it was you were inside, and you all shielded your eyes from the brightness of it.

“It just emitted a massive surge of energy.” Tech said. “Whatever we are standing inside is highly destructive!”

“So what do we do to shut it down?” Wrecker asked urgently.

“If removing the Heart of the Mountain activated it, perhaps we must return it to its proper place to deactivate it.” Tech replied.

Phee possessively clutched the artifact to her body. “Do you know how much this is worth? It’s what we came for! Can’t you find a separate kill switch or something?”

“Our ship’s out there. If that thing destroys it, we’ll be trapped on this planet!” Hunter reasoned.

Phee let out an aggravated huff. “Alright. But you owe me.”

“In what possible world-” Any argument from you was promptly cut off as a familiar growl wailed out and all your eyes turned to the door, and you saw the creature from earlier was making a rather inconvenient reappearance.

In all the chaos of blaster fire versus violent animal, Phee lost her balance and the Heart of the Mountain slipped from her grasp and fell through a gap in the interior of whatever thing you all were in. “You deal with that! I’ll get the stone.” She yelled as she started to climb down after it.

Hunter glanced down after her and then looked over at you as you ducked under a vicious swipe of the animal’s paw and opened fire.

You felt him looking at you. Go, we can handle this. Just make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.

“Can’t you do your Jedi trick with this thing?” Wrecker shouted as he kept up his fire at the creature.

Your practice had consisted of the rats that graced the streets of Ord Mantell and whatever animals Cid had you all smuggling, this was a significantly different and more challenging situation. “If you can get it to keep still for two seconds then I’m all yours.” You retorted before you jumped out of the way of its snout. Unfortunately, Echo had been behind you and took the brunt of it as he was tossed to the side. Sorry, Echo!

Wrecker had managed to get to the back of the creature, and he tried to grab its leg, but it kicked him hard in the chest and he was thrown into one of the windows, the glass cracking on impact.

You and Omega focused your fire as you shielded Tech as he attempted to figure out a way to shut down the machine, but it was doing very little to dissuade the animal from its advances.

Wrecker recovered quickly and grabbed the creature’s tail and started to drag it back. “Shoot the window!”

You and Omega fired off a series of shots and the glass shattered which gave him the chance to chuck the creature out of it.

Any relief from having dealt with the animal was short lived since a loud groan wailed throughout the mech.

“Tech, do something!” Wrecker urged as he struggled to keep his balance.

Tech stared at what he assumed was the control panel. “I’m trying, but nothing is working!” He said, his frustration evident.

“Tech, the stone!” Hunter yelled, throwing his brother the object as he and Phee remerged.

Tech caught it but a particularly strong vibration meant he dropped it. He and Omega hastily picked it back up but the initial way they tried to insert it was wrong.

The rest of you watched anxiously as you felt the machine powering the weapon back up.

Tech and Omega managed to get it in, and they turned it and were greeted with the welcomed sound of the machine powering down.

However, you couldn’t catch a break. No sooner had the stone been re-inserted, did it start to crackle and ignite, and you all watched as it melted away. A series of explosions rang out around you and the lights went out and you could feel the machine start to sink to the ground.

“Hang on to something!” Hunter directed. It was then he noticed Omega start to slip away and he reached out and grabbed her forearm and pushed her in front of him whilst you all started to try and get as high as you could.

The machine began to tilt, and you all clattered against the divot you had huddled into.

Hunter found himself torn between protecting you and protecting Omega.

You felt the conflict within him. Omega first, every time.

Hunter swiftly shielded Omega’s body with his own as the machine came tumbling down.

You massaged your bruised ribs and groaned as you felt a headache coming on. You were beginning to realise that lack of heavy armour came with a price.

“What are you thinking about now?” Hunter asked as he made sure Omega was okay before he held his hand out to you.

You pulled down your mask. “That telling Lyra forearm and shoulder armour was enough has come back to bite me and I missed out on 8 hours sleep in a comfy bed because of this unsuccessful quest.” You replied unhappily as you let him help you up. And I’m thinking about the more preferred way for me to feel tired out and sore. You chuckled quietly as you heard the way his breathing stuttered.

You all emerged from the broken window and paused at the edge of it.

“This puts us at 0 for 2 in treasure hunting, even with a professional.” Tech said.

“We did find the Heart of the Mountain.” Omega pointed out. “The legend was real.”

“Now that’s the right attitude.” Phee said merrily.

On the way back, you had taken down your hood and the others had removed their helmets and the sight of the Marauder was a beautiful one.

“At least no one can ever activate that thing again.” Hunter said.

“So, what you’re saying is, it’s a good thing we came after all?” Phee challenged light-heartedly.

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth. “Sure thing, Phee.”

Phee gasped. “Did you all hear that! She agreed with me! See what happens when you stop being judgemental?”

“I banged my head; I’m not thinking clearly.” You argued but a slight grin graced your face.

“Nuh uh, we’re making ground.” Phee replied gleefully.

You just sighed and let her have this one. It was easier that way and it, rather irritatingly, felt better than constantly looking for faults in her ways and occupation. You wouldn’t go around calling her a close friend by any means, but you could give her a chance.

You all continued to walk towards the ship.

“Sorry about Mel.” Omega said gloomily into the quiet.

“This happens all the time.” Phee said casually. “That’s why I keep Mel’s memory stored on my ship’s data bank. I’ll have her rebuilt before we head to Vadnay.”

“What’s on Vadnay?” Omega asked.

Phee turned to face all of you as she walked. “I have a lead on a certain chalice. Very ancient.”

“Really?” Hunter said, his tone filled with scepticism. He stopped walking and let the others pass him.

“Legend has it the chalice once belonged to the Kingdom of Elweys, lost over a millennia ago.” She regaled to the group as they walked towards the ship.

You couldn’t help the light laugh that left you upon seeing the utterly defeated look on Hunter’s face. You rubbed sympathetic circles on his back. “Chin up, Sarge. Keep an open mind.”

“You’re awfully cheery.”

You shrugged. “Turns out the whole Jedi teaching of learning to let go actually has some merit. An open mind makes dealing with her a whole lot easier.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I’ll get there though, I’m sure. Looks like she’ll be around more often anyway.”

“Come on, we got a chalice to find.” You said and you took a half step forward, but Hunter’s voice caused you to look back.

“It was red?”

Your lip curled into a mischievous grin. “Yup.” You stepped back towards him and leaned up. “And quite flimsy. Would probably have torn quite easily.” You added alluringly, kissing the underside of his jaw before you walked away, feeling rather pleased with yourself. An opportunity to get him flustered was always attractive, regardless of the rather irritating overall circumstances.

Hunter released a frustrated growl and walked after you, muttering under his breath. No way would the sight of some ancient chalice be better than whatever you had been planning before all this had happened. Just before you hopped onto the steps, he grabbed your arm and pulled you back and pushed you against the wall of the Marauder, out of sight of the others. He dropped his helmet, cradled the side of your jaw, and looked deep into your eyes.

Your breathing became deeper, and your eyes darted between his and his lips.

Hunter moved first and kissed you. Tenderly, softly but deeply too. There was no mistaking the passion behind it.

You reciprocated eagerly, forgetting that there would be a group of people waiting on you both coming through the door. The kiss lasted for a few perfect minutes before the two of you parted for air and before things got too hot and heavy.

“Have I mentioned how much I wished we were in that hotel room right now?” Hunter murmured through heavy breaths.

“The feeling is very mutual.” You replied back, just as oxygen depraved.

“I wanted this break for us.” He kept his voice low as he nipped at your earlobe and caressed your sides.

“I did too but it wasn’t to be.” You managed to say through a hitched breath. “We knew the squad would always come first when we started this.”

“Oi, lovebirds! Come on, we got a legend to uncover!” Phee called from the doorway.

“One day.” Hunter promised.

“I know.” You pressed your forehead into his. It’s just right now, the opportunity is gone and that’s okay. We can just stick to the day job and grab time together when we can. We’ve managed all this time; we’ll be just fine. You rubbed your thumb gently along his tattooed cheekbone before you picked up his helmet and you both boarded the ship.

Next Chapter>

Tagging: @noeasyisnoisy, @tpwkcalli, @fuckoffthanos, @arctrooper69, @graciexmarvel, @flyingkangaroo, @nightmonkeysstuff, @brujaporfavor, @sunkissedclones, @ladytano420, @keep-calm-and-drink-caf, @yyourmotherr, @xxeiraxx

#the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch s2 #hunter x reader #hunter x fem!reader #hunter x femalejedi!reader #hunter x female!reader #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch hunter x you #hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars #friends to lovers #fluff

138 notes · View notes

foone · 3 years ago

Text

Hi I'm Foone Turing. I've been here a while but never really did an introduction post, so...

Hi. Yes, that's my name. I'm an asexual trans enby (they/them pronouns), I'm married, and I'm both older than you expect and younger than you expect, depending on what you know me from. I'm a writer and programmer. I'm better known on Twitter, at the moment. I'm well known for being severely ADHD and I'm also on the autism spectrum, somewhere near ultraviolet. I live near Oakland, California, USA, but I grew up on a farm in the south. I'm a furry, but I don't have a fursona yet.

I'm big into retrotech stuff, especially floppy disks. 80s and 90s PC stuff mainly, but I have a passing interest in everything else. I loves me some weird tech that you have no idea ever existed. I'm also big into analog media. VHS tapes, laserdiscs, that sort of thing.

Fandom wise, I'm a Trekie from way back, primarily in the TNG/DS9/VOY/ENT era. I haven't yet gotten into the new stuff, and I have only a passing knowledge of the original series. I'm also a big fan of Babylon 5, Red Dwarf, and Doctor Who (4th doctor, and new who doctors 9,10,11). I watch a bunch of British panel shows: HIGNFY, Mock the Week, Nevermind the Buzzcocks, 8 out of 10 cats (primarily the countdown spinoff).

I am a Big Hater on crytypocurrentseas and AI art. I used to be famously mad at the JWST, but now that it's in space and functional, I've calmed down. They just need to rename it and I'm golden.

I'm currently splitting my social media presence across three sites:

* Tumblr, obviously. Shitposting, jokes, queer stuff, and queer joke shitposts are all going here.

* mastodon: I'm putting my tech stuff here. Teardowns, building new death generators, fun historical weirdness.

* Twitter: formerly my primary platform, but now I just use it to keep in touch with people and make fun of the impending collapse of Twitter.

Stuff I do and have done after the readmore.

(I'm on mobile now but I'll get back to this on the desktop and add more links)

* I run lettuce.wtf, a webcam showing a lettuce to see if it will outlast Twitter. (My money is literally on the lettuce)

* my long running site The Death Generator: a tool for making fake video game screenshots, with user supplied dialogue.

* I run some Twitter bots, one of which is more popular than me, and all of which will need to be migrated soon: Gay Cats, WinIcons, Print Shop Deluxe, and Every Clue Line.

* I got Microsoft 3D Movie Maker open sourced

* I got rickrolled so hard that it ended up on national TV

* I ran doom on a pregnancy test

* I have made many horrible and weird keyboards. Keyboards with hair, keyboards which write poetry, keyboards that take 5 hours to say "hello world", keyboards with randomly placed keys, keyboards with 7 toggle switches instead of buttons, and many more.

* I tear down random electronics and try to figure out and explain how they work. (originally on Twitter, but moving over to mastodon now)

* I pissed off the FBI on more than one occasion. They tried to get me fired, they delayed my wedding by over a month, and they mentioned my 4chan nickname in a federal trial.

* I used to work for 4chan. I was a moderator and coder, I created /rs/ and /r9k/, and I convinced moot to destroy the original politics board (for obvious reasons). Things went further to shit after I left, but I am still glad I left. Oh and I also inadvertently prevented the creation of the 4chan dating/meet up site by being too ADHD to actually complete development of it. You're welcome.

* I ran a windows 95 machine for the maximum amount of time. There's a bug where it crashes after 49.7 days of uptime, so I let it happen. I livestreamed the end on YouTube.

* I've done exhibits at the Vintage Computer Festival on the history of floppy disks and optical discs.

* I've worked with the Video Game History Foundation (and others) to preserve old games and game development resources (source code and such). I'm big into archival!

* I wrote a really famous Twitter thread about the surprising way our vision works, which is still circulating in screenshots (including on Tumblr!) something like 5-6 years later.

* I made my old apartment play the Zelda Ocarina of Time shop music when you walked I the door.

* I run the Tumblr animefloppies, collecting screenshots and GIFs of floppy disks in anime.

* I run several other sub-tumblrs for collecting weird things, but I'll have to link them later.

* I am technically a speedrunner. I did the TAS of Duke Nukem 1, episode 1, and a joke speedrun of Solar Winds, where I beat the game by ignoring every single possible objective and just flying to the end, which takes over an hour.

* I used to make games. Some of them are available for download.

* but it still do, too: I'm working on a (currently unnamed) game about managing a dairy farm. Both the developers have ADHD. This is going to take forever before it comes out, if it ever does.

* I'm currently working on three books. Two are compilations of stuff previously twitterized, one is a novel:

- Always Screaming Forever: non-fiction, stories about my career in the tech industry and various other tech/science/history stuff I love ranting about.

- The Other Side of Screaming: fiction. My short stories.

- Mundane Kaya Sona (placeholder title): a linguist gets pulled into an FBI investigation into a car crash. An unknown language leads to the discovery of a wizard living in a forest in Oregon, and an interdimensional plot to smuggle nuclear weapons to another world, and break a cold war stalemate we (the planet earth) didn't realize we were in. I've been working on the setting for this story since I was about 7 years old, and I'm excited to finally get it out of my head and into yours.

* I'm probably forgetting like 5-10 major things I've done but ADHD is a hell of a drug. I'll add more as they come to me.

#Introduction #Foone

341 notes · View notes

1kook · 4 years ago

Text

viki & hickeys

the 8th installment to netflix & chill :~)

SUMMARY Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air. WARNINGS a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries MISC there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide RATING m (18+) WC 16.3k !!!! ik its fckin LOOOONG

NOTES (!) in true Viki fashion, here’s an nc fic where there’s like 3 different plot lines n a hot male antagonist <3 this series started off as just me wanting to write smut n it still is! now i just like to infuse different levels of angst into it as well </3 as always, lemme know what u think!! i proofread it twice but one of those times had been at 4 am so if u see a typo no u didn't. also here’s a gif of jungkook crying during a dolly parton performances and here’s another gif of jungkook crying bc it’s scary how pretty he looks

Being evil and hot does not come for free. As you’ve long since learned in the past twenty-three years of your life, you truly can’t have it all.

There is always some deliberating character flaw the universe must bestow upon you in order to level you out, make you fall onto the same plane as all the other mortals. Everyone has one, no matter how small or insignificant. Doyeon’s is that she doesn’t know how to work a straightening iron. Namjoon's is that he can’t tell the difference between water and liquor. Jungkook, despite all his tech-y nerdiness, doesn’t know how to do his own taxes. And yours? You don’t know shit about romcoms.

Your knowledge on the romantic genre is what leads to this predicament now, the ring on your finger heavy as Doyeon regards you with what is perhaps the most unimpressed look known to mankind. “This is a promise ring,” she says bluntly, the bustling sounds of the coffee shop around you the soundtrack to your sudden realization.

“No,” you deny, even though you know she’s right. “It’s an engagement ring.”

Doyeon rolls her eyes. “Babe,” she starts slowly, talks to you like you’re a dorky high schooler with her first boyfriend, “did he ask you to marry him?”

The truth is, the timing had been weird. It had been a few days after you’d rocked Jungkook’s world so you understand if he felt the sudden need to pop the question. But you were also sick as fuck that day, had only vaguely remembered the events because you were too busy with the snot up your nose and the raging fever you were battling. Had Jungkook asked you to marry him?

You’re not so sure.

It’s been a little over a month since then, and sure his lack of proactive wedding planning was a little weird, but you had always assumed Jungkook was one of those people who liked long engagements. Liked to drag out the last few months as a bachelor. Maybe he was waiting until you were both financially stable or something, who knows.

Doyeon had been on some soul-searching journey around the country, so she hadn't been home for a while, had only heard of the ring through a two-second snapchat. This is the first time she’s seeing you and it in person; you can tell by the expression on her face that she’s rightfully disappointed.

“Have you no shame, woman?” she tuts, arms crossed over her chest. “You have me parading around the world bragging about your engagement— just for this?”

You knock your forehead against the table, know it’s dirty and icky, but you deserve it. “Listen,” you huff. “I’ve only seen The Notebook, like, once.”

She scoffs. “I can tell. This is so embarrassing, don’t tell me you’ve brought it up to him?”

At her words you startle, nearly send the drinks flying across the floor. “No!” you shout, mindlessly reaching to twist the ring around your finger. It’s become a habit these past few weeks, a comfort to feel it around you. Granted, the feeling is a little muted now. “Of course he’d get me a promise ring,” you grumble, gaze flickering down to the silver band on your ring finger. “Jungkook loves all that cheesy corny stuff.” He really did.

You’ve had enough of Doyeon’s disappointment, decide this coffee date has brought you enough three am anxiety material for the next year and a half. You conclude your date by taking a walk around town, arms locked together as you laugh at people who pass by because you’re both a little mean.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she says, and you agree. Well, a promise ring certainly meant something. It was, essentially, a pre-engagement ring. And the engagement ring that followed was a pre-wedding ring. And a wedding ring was, well, a wedding ring. Your heartbeat thunders at the thought. “You’re busy right now anyway,” she points out, snapping you out of your bumbling thoughts. “Aren’t you getting promoted at work soon?”��

Oh, you certainly were getting promoted at work. After many grueling months of hard work and dedication, the fruits of your labor were finally being recognized. Gone were the days of useless desk work, intern-like errands that barely required the use of any higher-order brain functions. You had worked hard these past few months, proved your worth over and over again, until you were here. Getting promoted into a new branch at your company— one where your talents were actually needed. And truth be told, there was one man to thank for that.

Your friend and superior, Kim Seokjin.

Seokjin is a great boss. In fact, you could argue he’s the best in the entire world and that, if it wasn’t for him, you would have quit this job that first month you started. But you had him to push you along, friendly smiles and encouragements that kept you going until this point, where you’re being promoted up into a branch where your degree finally matters. And it was all thanks to him! What Kim Namjoon was to Jungkook, Kim Seokjin was to you.

So what if he cheated on his wife and flirted with the secretaries— Seokjin was practically a god in your eyes.

And what Seokjin did in his free time was frankly none of your business anyway. You were colleagues at work, got along fairly well, but outside of work you were practically strangers. He was your beloved work colleague, someone Jungkook teased you about endlessly despite never having met him, and you were immensely thankful for him. “Should I be scared he’ll steal you from me?” Jungkook had joked one night, standing behind you as you scrolled through your company profile page. “He is a little handsome.”

You had pinched his side, smiling at his feigned concern when he pressed his lips to your temple. “You’re right,” you had joked back, “he is sooo cool.” And Jungkook had bitten you on the shoulder, laughed that pretty laugh when you yelped in surprise.

Anyway, Kim Seokjin was a god, Jungkook was on his way to maybe, hopefully, one day, being your husband, and all was well.

To honor this moment in time, you decide to swing by Jungkook’s place after your date with Doyeon, finding him lazily sprawled across his living room couch while What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? plays on the Jumbotron. He’s in between projects right now, so he’s spent most of his time relaxing and catching up on all his favorite shows.

Which brings you back to that deliberating character flaw of yours: no knowledge of the romantic genre to utilize in your everyday life. Your love language has always been blunt words, teasing jabs, the raw and unfiltered type of love. Emotions? Impossible to figure out. You’ve gotten pretty far in life reading verbal and physical cues; with Jungkook, you always know he’s upset when he does the little tongue-against-cheek thing, and it has saved you from many potential arguments.

On the other hand, it is so obvious what Jungkook’s love language is when he spends fifty percent of his time on Viki, home to some of the most cheesy kdramas in existence. Most guys spend their weekends watching sports or dramatic action movies, but here was Jungkook. Watching some guy try to court his secretary.

(Okay, he does watch sports and action movies too, but that’s not the point!)

“Hello, sweet boy,” you greet, plopping down beside him. Jungkook smiles back softly. He’s serving absolute pre-pre-husband deliciousness right now, cute glasses, fluffy curls, plaid bottoms that make him look so comfy. God, you were going to suck his dick tonight.

Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, tastes like the chocolate cake you specifically told him not to eat without you. He blindsides you before you can scold him, pulls you onto his lap where the swell of his cock nudges against your thigh. Oh, you were definitely going to suck his dick and ride him well into the sunrise.

“What’s my pretty girl doing here tonight?” he asks, cutely looping his fingers through yours. “Thought you were with the Wicked Witch of the West today?”

You roll your eyes, reposition yourself in a laughable attempt at pretending like you’re actually interested in the show. “We just went out for lunch,” you explain, watching the hot lead saunter across the screen. Juicy ass, but nothing compared to Jungkook’s.

There’s a question lingering on the tip of your tongue, Doyeon’s explanations mixed with your worries, and you hold it for exactly ten seconds before you’re turning to face him head on, eyes going a little crossed from how close he is. “Hey,” you say bluntly. “Is this a promise ring?” you ask, wiggle your finger in his face.

Jungkook blinks, once, twice, and then his face shoots up in flames. “Maybe,” he mumbles, lips pursed as he tries to avoid your gaze. He was adorable. You laugh, endeared by the red flush that crawls over his cute little cheeks and up his ears. Unable to stop yourself, you squeeze said cheeks between your hands, cooing at the annoyed expression that consumes him soon afterwards.

“Aw, you want to marry me,” you tease, but it’s secretly a leading question for him to confess that yes, he does want to marry you. For as hot and confident as you are, you too are plagued with doubts. Doubts that can only be smoothed over by hearing it straight from Jungkook’s mouth.

He rolls his eyes, trying to break free from your hold. “We’ve talked about this,” he murmurs, all embarrassed. But like always, Jungkook knows exactly what you want so he doesn’t deny it, and that’s good enough for you. He’s too flustered to look you in the eye now, childishly craning his head away from you when you try to force him into a staring contest. “Can I finish my show?” he whines, slightly not as hard now that you’ve reduced him into a shy, bumbling mess. It was a nice change of pace from his usual, composed self.

But you relent, sliding off his lap to sit against his side, classic octopus hug around his waist. The episode is in full swing, not that you know anything about it. Like you said, romantic shows and movies were the least of your concerns. Jungkook, however, eats this type of shit up. “He still trying to fuck her?” you ask, not the least bit interested, but if you’re planning on sucking his dick tonight you have to listen to a few minutes of him rambling first.

Jungkook sighs. “Yeah,” he says, “I don’t get it.” You hum, trail your hand over his abdomen teasingly. He feels so warm and lean beneath your palm, you were getting hot just thinking about it. “Why would anyone agree to dating their boss?”

You know that Jungkook’s boss is some old Facebook fart, pioneer of something on the site that neither of you two care about. So it makes sense that such a notion disturbs him. You shrug anyway. “Everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss,” you offer. “It’s like, the power dynamic, I guess.”

His frown deepens. “Would you?” Your boss isn’t exactly an old fart; the reason Kim Seokjin was such a renowned playboy is because, well, he had the looks to pull it off. Still, he had become a sort of respectable figure to you and the idea of sleeping with him doesn’t really sound appealing as much as it would to any other random bachelorette, which you admittedly were not. You glance at the screen, where Park Seojoon swaggers around in those tight slacks and fitted button-ups.

“Hm,” you ponder, “maybe.”

Jungkook laughs. “You’re supposed to say no, you idiot,” he says, knocks his forehead against yours softly. You can’t help but chuckle too, enamored with the happy glint in his eyes and the way his smile eats up his features.

Oh, you loved this man.

Because he was so sweet and good on Christmas, you let Jungkook make the plans for Valentine’s Day. After all, it’s his favorite holiday (“Why? Well, because it’s a day all about you, and me, and us,” he had sighed dreamily in the bathtub one night, hair adorably pushed back to showcase that handsome face of his. Bubbles clung to his chest, had made you dizzy with every breath he took.), so it’s only right that he gets to make the itinerary for the day, fill it with all his favorite things. After all, cheesy romantic stuff like this was right up his lane.

He reserves a spot at the fanciest restaurant in the city, the one that has a months long waiting list. It sounds perfect, and the closer it gets to February 13th, the more excited you become. You say 13th because the 14th is a Sunday, and as much as you would love to get on your knees and praise Jungkook’s body until the wee hours of the next day, you have work. So Sunday is off the table. And it’s better this way, you tell yourself. Everywhere would have been packed that day anyway.

It seems like everywhere you go, the entire world is gearing up for the holiday; from the fast food drive-thru to your favorite lingerie shop, there’s Valentine’s Day specials everywhere you look. Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.

But what good is a lovey-dovey holiday without your own lovey dove himself?

One glance out your window and your knees feel weak, because there he is. Dressed in a loose satin button up, shoulders broad, chest defined. He’s got on these fitted dress pants that accentuate his tiny waist too, thick thighs bulging beneath the fabric. There’s a coat hugging his frame, something to shield him from the cold while he waits out on the curb, does this cute little shivering dance in an attempt to warm up his muscles. Your heart feels like it’ll explode at the sight, and you can practically hear the corny, overused romantic song playing in the background of your thoughts, so you hurriedly distract yourself by slipping tonight’s dress on.

It’s cold outside, but the sight of Jungkook makes you feel warm and fuzzy everywhere. He’s so hot it makes you dizzy, and the sap knows it when he meets you on the sidewalk. Instinctively, his hand reaches out to tangle with yours, the other slipping around your waist. “Hi, gorgeous,” he greets playfully, kissing your knuckles. His hair has grown out a little, curls up cutely when he lets it air dry and tickles your skin when he gets too close. “Lookin’ like Secretary Kim.”

“Oh? So does that make you my hot boss?” you tease as you make your way to the car.

As always, he opens the door for you first, flashes you this dorky little wink as he rounds the front of the car. “If it means you’ll sleep with me tonight, then sure,” he says, buckling himself in. You roll your eyes at his claim. You don’t get to see the proud little smile on his face; by the time you’ve composed yourself, he’s already pulling off in the direction of the restaurant.

It’s a classy thing, a restaurant and bar in some insanely tall skyscraper. Of course your seats are right beside one of the huge floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the beautiful, glittering cityscape. “Fancy,” you murmur as you sit down, catching a glimpse of the eye roll Jungkook gives you.

“You say that about any place that serves wine,” he chuckles, reaching for the bottle on the table to pour you a glass.

The wine tastes like perfection, aged for the perfect amount of time. Whatever that was. You don’t really know, but it tastes amazing! Still, amazement aside, you manage a scoff. “I didn’t say that about your house on our first date,” you huff anyway, throwing him a playful glare over the rim of your glass.

Jungkook laughs, full and real this time. It’s a little too loud for the classy establishment you find yourselves in, drowns out the jazz music for a second. “That’s because it was a house,” he says, wearing that big, shiny smile you adore, “and we were watching Transformers.” An amazing date, the mere memory of it makes your toes curl. He had been so dreamy— nearly two years ago now! —and had retained that aura up to the present day. You don’t think you’ve ever been so in love with anyone or anything in this world before, as cheesy as it was to admit.

As if sensing your sudden wandering thoughts, Jungkook nudges your ankle under the table. “Hey,” he says so softly you could melt; his voice was so silky and sweet. “Everything okay?” he asks.

A sigh, chin in your palm. You had to have been abducted by aliens or something— there was no way this was your life, this disgustingly romantic date with this disgustingly handsome man. An episode of Black Mirror maybe? One where you get forced to live in a romantic Viki drama with the man you love, every single day for the rest of your life? Maybe.

Dramatics aside, you could practically feel that sticky sweet, sentimental monster begging to crawl to the surface, unleash the entire Shakespearean collection of lovesick sonnets on your unsuspecting boyfriend in the middle of this restaurant. But the weird ones, were you accidentally dedicate an entire six lines to the bulge of Jungkook’s thighs in his workout pants or the heart-shaped mole on his shoulder. Those kind. Before that can happen, you settle on an equally as gentle, “I love you,” murmured for only him to hear.

Across the table, Jungkook smiles. One of those thin ones when he’s trying to keep his composure but is actually quite flustered, his subtle bunny teeth nibbling at his lower lip. “Thanks,” he responds, still trying to play it cool, but then he almost knocks his glass down and you’re reminded just how perfect he was, flaws and all. “Me too.”

You jab the pointed tip of your stiletto against his shin. “Say it back,” you warn and he laughs.

“I love you,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Straight out of a romantic drama, like the ones on Viki that require a minimum of four different story arcs just to get to this point. But with Jungkook, it takes a few shy smiles and maybe a kiss. It has a scorching heat rising on your cheeks, one you ward away with a hurried sip of your drink while Jungkook reaches for your hand, thumb rubbing over your promise ring as if for good luck.

That singular phrase makes your world pause, its axis stalling while you deal with the overwhelmingly soft and gooey feelings in your chest. Oh jeez, you had to rock his world tonight. It was only right. He deserved it for making you feel like this— this silly and ditzy, like a middle schooler with her crush.

Anyway the food gets to your table after a millennia. Jungkook orders some fancy lobster dish, one that you're pretty sure costs more than the purse you brought along tonight (to be fair, you’re a cheap buyer), and still has the audacity to poke around at your plate too. He eats enough to feed a schoolhouse full of children who’ve just come off recess, practically devouring the table cloth before you stop him. And then he doesn’t let you see the bill; “baby, don’t worry about that when you’re with me,” he purrs, warm breath fanning against the skin on your neck, drunk off pure love and strawberry lemonade because he was driving tonight. The hostess is a blushing mess, fumbling for his change as Jungkook practically gropes your ass in plain sight.

You swear he’s spending too much time on that Viki streaming service, because then, as if the romantic dinner date wasn’t enough, he whisks you off to an even more romantic walk along the river.

If there was ever a world record for “Number of Times you can Make your Girlfriend Swoon,” you’re positive Jungkook had broken it in the span of a few hours. You feel so light-headed and in love by the time you reach the river.

“You know,” you tell him as you walk, the serene sounds of the flowing water beside you the soundtrack to your date. Jungkook swings your joined hands between the two of you. It’s chilly but you’re so full and happy that you don’t let it bother you. “I was gonna throw wine at you when we first met.”

He cackles, that loud, airy sound again that he only lets you hear, with his head thrown back. “What?” he gasps, smiley and pretty, your pretty boy. “And why were you going to do that?”

You huff, feeling slightly embarrassed now to admit such a thing. But aside from Doyeon, no one else has ever heard this classified tale. And well, you’re feeling extra emotional tonight. An abundance of emotions in one night usually ended with you crying like a little bitch at some point or another, so you’re trying to push that off for later. “Because,” you sigh, squeezing his fingers, your lone promise ring versus his assortment of fashionable rings. “You sounded like an absolute fuck boy when you first texted me!”

Jungkook scoffs, playfully scandalized. “Me?” he squawks, pausing to stand in front of you with wide eyes and a ridiculously huge smile, the kind that has his brows raised high, lips going thin, practically displaying every tooth in his mouth from how wide it is.

“Jungkook,” you say calmly, shoving one finger against his chest. “You asked me to Netflix & chill for our first date.”

He groans, using your entwined hands to pull you into his arms for a suffocating hug. “I already told you,” he laughs, patting the back of your head while you get in a few lighthearted punches against his sides. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

“Whatever, you sleaze,” you say anyway, eventually melting into his hands. “Bet you tell all the girls that.” Jungkook makes another scandalized noise, but settles when you wrap your hands around him. He smells so good and familiar, comforting even. Like home and safety, a refuge for your heart. When you’re this close, you can hear the light beating of it beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that has you closing your eyes when he begins humming your favorite song.

He gets about two verses in when your phone suddenly goes off.

Everything in your body says to ignore it, to continue basking in the comfort of your boyfriend’s embrace and this absolutely perfect moment. But it’s the stupid ringtone you set for all your work peers when you first loaded the entire company contact list onto your phone, so the sound alone lets you know it’s a work-related call. And for work to be calling you on a weekend was definitely not a good sign.

“Give me a sec,” you tell Jungkook, pulling away from his arms. He frowns but lets you go, staying close as you dig through your purse for the offending device.

It’s Kim Seokjin calling at this peculiar hour, a fact that confuses the hell out of you. Jungkook’s bouncing on his heels in an attempt to fight off the chill, giving you his beautiful side profile as he glances down the winding sidewalk that follows the river, and then at his watch. His nose is a cute red color that you want to kiss so bad. But work calls, so you tighten up and let that dream go for now. You swipe your thumb across the screen.

“Hello, Mr. Kim,” you greet, trying to keep the confusion out of your voice. “How can I help—“

“__, my love,” he beams through the phone, so fucking loud it has Jungkook glancing over curiously. You give him a tight-lipped smile, one he returns as he shuffles closer, trying to steal your warmth like a penguin. You let him snuggle close before turning back to the droning voice of your superior on the line.

“Hello,” you repeat again, slowly. Jungkook takes your free hand in his; when he squeezes, the band of your promise ring digs into your skin just the slightest. “Was something the matter?”

Seokjin laughs, loud and clear. There’s a lot of other noises filtering in through his line. Briefly, you remember that there had been some work-related party for the higher ups tonight so you write it off as that. “Does there need to be a problem for me to call you, love?”

You falter. Beside you, Jungkook’s brows furrow together, his devilishly handsome features even more pronounced. He’s obviously heard the other man on the line. “Um,” you flounder for a second, “well, usually yes.”

Without missing a beat, Seokjin carries on with a playful tut that you’re almost certain has him lifting the receiver up to his mouth, because it’s so goddamn loud it has you flinching away from your own device. “My __,” he says, sweet and… slurred?

He’s never used this tone of voice on you, only on other women at the office. Something about his broken marriage and needing to heal a wound, you don’t fucking know. You can’t even begin to truly understand that logic, which is why you’ve always just ignored it. Still, in the last few months of knowing Seokjin, he has never made a pass at you. Until now, that is. And until now, you had kind of convinced yourself he saw you in a sisterly way. Which sure, was worse than being friendzoned. But this was your boss you were talking about. Whether you got sister-zoned or not by him was the least of your concerns. So what was going on? What had changed over the span of a few days that had him suddenly reaching out to you on a weekend?

Beside you, Jungkook doesn’t look the slightest bit impressed, tongue prodding against his cheek as Seokjin rambles on the line. You wish you had lowered the volume before answering, but doing so now would appear suspicious, even you could admit that. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Seokjin praises. You nod, remember he can’t see you, and settle on a blunt thanks instead. Jin laughs. “You’re different from the rest,” he hums, voice soft and weirdly intimate.

Jungkook’s frown deepens. “What does he want?” he murmurs, somehow managing to keep his voice calm as always. The deep furrow of his brows and the tongue-against-cheek motion he had done just a few seconds ago all indicate he’s annoyed, that much you can tell.

You shrug, eyes wide as you hurry to get to the reason for the phone call. You’re almost certain it’s just Seokjin being drunk— many people drunkenly dial their friends and family to tell them how much they’re appreciated, this wasn’t anything weird!

Is what you try to convince yourself, but then Seokjin’s voice is dropping an octave by your ear. “Did you get my gift?” he murmurs, voice nearly drowned out by the sounds of the event he’s at.

“Huh?” you stammer, quite stupidly if you do say so yourself. Jungkook shifts closer, obviously trying to hear. A breeze ruffles his hair, his cologne wafting over you. “What?”

A sigh over the line. “My gift, love,” Kim Seokjin says, loud and proud. Jungkook exhales, hard. “I had it sent to your house this evening. Something pretty for a pretty girl— don’t tell me the postman fucked that up,” he jokes and Jungkook huffs, practically breathing fire through his nose when he hears the words.

You fidget. There had been no gift when Jungkook picked you up around sunset, not like you had expected anything to begin with. And aside from Jungkook and maybe your parents, there was no one else on this planet you wanted to receive a Valentine’s Day gift from anyway, especially not from your boss of all people. “Um,” you mumble, acutely aware of the way Jungkook’s face is nearly pressed to yours now in his effort to listen in on your phone call. “I— um, haven’t been home, Seokjin.”

Jungkook scoffs, spits out a particularly unimpressed, “Seokjin?”

Said man doesn’t hear. “Oh, of course,” he says, almost sullenly. “I forgot you had that little boyfriend to entertain tonight.”

It’s the breaking point for Jungkook, who leans back to glare at the phone with the heat of a thousand suns. You press it against your chest before he can hear anything else. “I’m sorry,” you rush out in a hurried whisper, eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge the intensity of his emotions. “I think he’s drunk— he’s never said things to me like this before,” you stammer, feeling like you have to defend yourself for some reason. “I’ll- I’ll take care of it, okay?” No answer, just an aggravated shake of his head, like he’s trying to calm himself down. “Jungkook?” you say, can feel the panic begin to lace your voice when his eyes flutter shut.

He calms your worries with a gentle head butt that has you gasping in surprise, one hard exhale fanning over you. “Okay,” he says, teeth clenched. “I’m gonna go sit.” And then he stiffly walks over to one of the many benches lining the pathway. He sits, just like he had said he would, and glares down at his hands instead.

The sight makes you anxious, unsure of how to diffuse the situation because, like you’ve said many times before, dealing with emotions— especially someone else’s emotions —was hard. Your eyes refuse to leave his figure as you draw the phone back up to your ear again. “Hello?” you call, voice trembling when Jungkook finally looks your way. The soft look he had given you all night is nowhere to be found, replaced with this rather unreadable expression. Something between annoyance and confusion if you had to guess. You don’t know, and the fact you don’t know makes you panic. Your chest feels tight when Seokjin begins speaking again.

“You know,” he says, “you’re quite something, __. Strong, confident. Beautiful.” Had you been anyone else, you might have been flattered by Kim Seokjin’s remarks, maybe would have swooned. He was, objectively speaking, a handsome man with a hefty bank account.

But if that was the criteria for a man to make you swoon, then the man on the bench in front of you checked all the same boxes three times over. The man who’s brows draw closer and closer together the longer you linger on the phone. Jungkook’s foot does one agonizing tap against the concrete and you find yourself stammering into the phone. “I think you’re drunk, Jin.”

A scoff. “I am,” he agrees, and doesn't even bother to hide it. “But you remind me of her, you know that? I like that.”

It’s like he knows something is going on on the line, because Jungkook visibly bristles when you sidestep in surprise. What was going on, your brain screams. Having your superior compare you to his infidel wife was definitely not something you saw coming tonight. “Uh, okay?” you say, “listen, Seokjin— Mr. Kim, I’m... I have a boyfriend. And I really lov—“

He cuts you off. Jungkook bristles at the sudden stop of your sentence. “Yeah, yeah,” Seokjin drawls, and you can feel the sheer terror of accidentally jeopardizing your relationship with Jungkook step aside for the briefest moment to allow some annoyance to seep through. Annoyed with Seokjin and his audacity, his tone, his voice. “Mrs. Kim used to say that about me,” he chuckles humorlessly, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” A long pause. You’re unsure of how to respond. “It’s not real,” Seokjin says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. “Love, that is.”

You clench your jaw, gathering your thoughts to respond when Seokjin beats you to it. “But you know what, love?” You don’t respond. Seokjin pushes on anyway. “Someone’s gonna cheat sooner or later— why not beat him to it?”

Your body reacts first, a startled gasp inhaled through your lips at his disrespectful preposition. Your phone slips out of your grasp. It bounces twice, lands on the ledge that gives way to the river, and you almost kick it in when Jungkook comes up behind you. “Hey, hey,” he says sternly, tugging you away from the phone you almost killed. “What’s wrong— what did he say?”

You exhale, face warm from the discomfort sitting heavy in your chest. “Nothing,” you huff, mind slightly foggy as you try to process that awkward conversation. “It’s— it was stupid,” you spit, pressing the heels of your palms against your temples, the raging anger and confusion making your head pound now.

You had always known Kim Seokjin wasn’t the most faithful man, that the infidelity ran both ways in his relationship. But you had never imagined he would ever compare you to her, his cheating wife, in an attempt to win you over. Furthermore, you’re downright disturbed by the fact he would even try to hit on you after all the mentoring he’d given you, all the polite smiles he’d flashed you, all the praise you had bestowed upon him to Jungkook.

Jungkook, whose jaw twitches as his hands graze your forearms. When you look at him again, you feel an immense wave of remorse wash over you at the way his own irritation is clouded by his worry for you. He had been wronged as well— disrespected just like you —but here he was, pushing his own emotions aside for your sake. He doesn’t want to see you upset. He was so good at dealing with your emotions, knew just what to do when things became too much.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lips pursed together. “I don’t know why— he’s never— I wouldn’t do that,” you settle on, voice wobbling when Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “Jungkook,” you frown, reaching for his hands, “I wouldn’t—“

He shushes you with another one of those gentle forehead bumps. “Calm down,” he says, voice deeper than usual. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Weirdly, it feels like you’ve committed a grave sin against your boyfriend. A crime. “I’m sorry,” you blubber anyway, heart thundering in your chest. “That was horrible,” you huff, desperately blinking away the stinging sensation behind your eyes. “You didn’t deserve to hear that.”

“Don’t cry,” Jungkook says, so soft and comforting; stable. You want his composure, his ability to process and understand things so quickly— his maturity. Sure he had been put off by Seokjin, but he had processed it all so quickly; adapted to the situation and stepped in to save you. Meanwhile, you nearly committed cellular murder because you couldn’t handle yourself. “He’s a weirdo,” he says, for both your sakes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart.”

Still, you sniffle. “I’m sorry,” you say again, the heavy feeling in your chest lightening just a little bit when he pulls you into his arms.

“Crybaby,” he teases softly, a kiss on the crown of your head. You pinch his side. “Second phone you broke in a year.”

The mood for the riverwalk is off after that, and you only walk a few more meters before Jungkook decides it’s enough. “We can still enjoy ourselves at home,” he reassures you, and the way he tries to salvage that soft, fuzzy feeling from before is admirable. So Jungkook takes you home, holds your hand the whole drive back to your place, like he knows you’re still fragile from that extremely uncomfortable interaction, need him to hold you together. Jungkook’s emotional stability guards you like a shield, covers you in a wave of comfort as you calm down. You tell him about Seokjin’s preposition and he bristles. “Prick,” he murmurs beneath his breath, grip tightening just the tiniest bit. Your ring pinches against your skin a little painfully, but you say nothing.

There’s a box of flowers on your doorstep when you arrive, one that makes Jungkook pause at the sight. “Wonderful,” he drones, picking it up for you as you unlock the front door. It gets left on the coffee table, practically mocking the two of you as you remove your shoes and coats. “That’s your favorite flower,” Jungkook notes.

You glance at the expensive bouquet. “It is.”

Jungkook drops down onto your couch, eyes flickering to the meticulous arrangement in front of him. “You told him?” Not really. But back when you had thought Jungkook and you were engaged (read: last week), you had spent days looking at different floral shops that specialized in this flower, frequently leaving the tab open on your work computer. Seokjin must have seen it then. At your extended silence, Jungkook says, “nice.”

You frown, setting your heels on the shoe rack. “Baby, I didn’t,” you tell him softly, reaching for the zip on the back of your dress. It comes down, and after clearing your hips, it falls to the floor in a dark heap you pick up quickly. It leaves you scantily clad in a black lingerie set. Meanwhile, Jungkook drops his head back, glaring at your ceiling. Tentatively, you step over to him, toying with the fabric of your dress in your hands. “You said it was okay.”

“I know,” he sighs, an unexpected confession from him that makes you pause. Despite all you’ve been through, he still rarely highlighted situations that upset him. “It’s just,” he says, turning his head to look at your form again, eyes not drinking you in like you hoped he would. “It’s scary.”

The couch cushion dips beneath your weight when you settle beside him. “What is?”

Jungkook shrugs, avoiding your question by reaching for the TV remote on the coffee table, right beside the box of flowers Seokjin had sent. He opens up the Viki app in a flash— the one linked to his account —and has even loaded up the next episode of Secretary Kim when you question him again. “What’s scary, Jungkook?” you repeat.

On screen, there’s a beautiful scene on a bridge, the two leads happily conversing. It’s serene, something neither you nor Jungkook feel at the moment.

Eventually, he says, “you could leave.”

You pause. “What do you mean?” Leave? Where on earth would you leave to when this was your home? He doesn’t meet your gaze.

Another scene passes by on screen, some cheesy line and an even cheesier promise. Jungkook’s foot taps against the floor, the sound dull against the plush rug beneath you. It’s a nervous tick you’ve only seen him do at the height of truly stressful situations. Weird because just half an hour before you had dubbed him as the epitome of calm and collected at the river.

“I thought he was cool before.”

He did. But the word ‘cool’ didn’t always have the same meaning for Jungkook as it did for you.

In the past, Jungkook had frequently joked about having to meet Kim Seokjin and thank him for all the help he’s given you at work. After all, up until now, you had only ever had good things to say about the man, raving about his cool demeanor and respectable work ethics. Now, the memories paired with the conversation from earlier leave a bad taste in your mouth.

You’re a little confused with Jungkook right now; part of you had convinced yourself that whatever happened on the phone earlier with Seokjin was put behind you, marked off as an anomaly in the evening. After all, Jungkook himself had said it was okay. Park Seojoon appears on screen, and you can’t help but glare at the character, residue emotions from the river pushed off onto this innocent actor.

Still, Jungkook surprises you. “It’s just that—“ he sighs. And then, “what if you leave?”

You blink, eyes trained on his side profile and the way he’s nervously chewing through his bottom lip until it tints a red shade, gives way to sensitive skin when he bites too hard. “Why would I leave?”

He says nothing. On screen, Park Seojoon says something so cheesy and romantic that it would have otherwise made you cringe, made Jungkook soft. But he’s stiff as a board beside you instead. You almost think he’s going to disregard the entire conversation when he finally speaks again. “Well.” You perk up at the sound of his voice, overly aware of the way he’s started picking at the skin around his thumb again, another nasty habit you’ve been trying to help him get over. “He’s cool. Rich.”

“And so are you,” you offer, covering his hand with your own.

Jungkook ignores you, releasing a long, shaky exhale. Somehow, he’s exuding a similar energy as before; discontentment mixed with understanding. Like he’s greatly conflicted but forcing himself to remain calm. Another trembling inhale, and then Jungkook quietly recites, “everyone wants to sleep with their hot boss.”

You recoil just the slightest, brows pinched together at the absurd conclusion he’s drawn. “Baby, that was just a silly conversation,” you say slowly, slipping your hand into his. He squeezes so tight you’re afraid he’ll break your bones. “And we were joking—“

“I know!” he exclaims, enveloping your significantly smaller hand in both of his before bringing them up to his face, lips pressed against your knuckles. It’s not a kiss, more so a desperate need to feel you against him. Eyes wide, you can’t do anything but watch as that collected exterior slips away, revealing a whirlwind mess of emotions. It’s a rather unexpected show from Jungkook. “It was a joke. We were joking. But I’m—“ his jaw clenches. His voice is so tiny when he speaks again. “I get scared sometimes, __.”

His emotional outburst renders you speechless, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, jaw clenching, hands trembling.

It’s a stark image change from the cool Jungkook that had comforted you at the river, had patted the back of your head when you had been so distraught. His chest heaves for air and you don’t know what to do; it’s always the other way around, him comforting you, that when it comes down to this you find yourself at a loss. It makes you feel like you don’t know enough about yourself or him or your relationship in general to help him, always so lost when things like this happen.

Jungkook has never been good at expressing negative emotions, always preferring to bottle them up and only show you his very best side. Granted, he’s been getting better at letting go lately, has whispered his doubts to you in the dead of night after a particularly grueling project, an uncomfortable social meeting. But he always waits until you’re half asleep and in the dark to tell you how he feels, hushed worries that you barely remember the next morning. And by then, Jungkook’s moved on from them anyway, flashes you a pretty smile and purposefully guides you away from that conversation. You know he’s started keeping a journal recently, but aside from seeing the blanks pages when he’d first gotten, you don’t have a clue what happened afterwards. It’s probably hidden away somewhere, his feelings locked up in a cupboard or a box, the secrets it holds never to be spoken of aloud.

He doesn’t like talking about his more personal problems, hoards them until you’re forced to intervene. Find him slumped over at his dining table with bags under his eyes, the skin on his lower lip bitten beyond belief.

Rarely does he sit down and express himself like this, lays his heart out carefully for you to see. Had he not said so right now, you would have never known Jungkook struggled with such doubts about you and your relationship.

(It makes your heart ache at the realization.)

Jungkook always acts like everything is okay, always forces himself to hold it together for the sake of you and, quite frankly, everyone else. He’s there when Taehyung breaks up with his girlfriends, pats him on the back and lets him run through every video game he has on his PS5. He’s there for Namjoon when his thesis becomes too much, proofreads it even though he doesn’t understand a word just for the sake of giving his best friend another perspective. Hell, he had even been there for Doyeon when her new landlord had tried to overcharge her, had carried the bulk of your argument when you ran off to try and fight with the old man.

(“He’s too nice sometimes,” she had murmured the next morning at her place. After the shouting match the night before, you had crashed with Doyeon on her new bed, your sweet boyfriend taking up her couch. Somehow, you and Jungkook had managed to knock a clean seventy-five bucks off her monthly bill. It wasn’t much, but for an apartment in the city it sure felt like a lot.

You had hummed, patting the top of his head on the way to the kitchen. “He’s a good boy,” you had said, heart thrumming when he instinctively pushed closer to your hand, nuzzling into you even in his sleep. “He cares about everyone a lot. Worries to death about his friends.”

The state of their relationship was weird; they were always fighting about one thing or another, ‘eternal enemies’ as Doyeon liked to claim.

But for the first time, she hadn’t denied they were, in fact, friends. Instead, she had quietly stood at the breakfast nook overlooking the living room with a somber look on her face that was completely unlike the Doyeon you knew. She didn’t respond with her usual backhanded compliments, didn’t even call him a gremlin either.

“He even worries about you, Miss Wicked Witch of the West,” you had teased, reaching over to pull Jungkook’s shirt down where it had ridden up, exposing his cute belly button to the cold apartment. She had sipped at her mug of coffee, eyes foggy and distant. “It just takes him a while.”

“He’s always cared about you though,” she had murmured then, and you had marked it off as her being half asleep. But Doyeon had given you this look, a look so profoundly wise, as if she was saying, “more than you’ll ever know.”)

Most importantly, Jungkook is always there for you. He holds you in his arms, strokes your back comfortingly whenever something goes wrong. Listens to your concerns and offers you advice, learns new things for the sole purpose of helping you out. Lets you make stupid decisions and always saves you at the last minute. And you want to repay him for all that, want to look after Jungkook like he does for everyone else. But it’s hard, it’s so fucking hard, when he doesn’t let you in, when he holds his emotions at bay for the sake of protecting yours. When you don’t even know where to start sometimes.

The beating of your heart is accompanied by a dramatic orchestral ensemble on screen, violins and flutes as the two lovers reconcile some issue with a kiss. Beside you, your own lover is one second away from falling apart. “Hey,” you say quietly, slipping your hand out of his to hesitantly place on his back instead. With your release, Jungkook uses his empty hands to drag over his face, hide himself from you. “I’m not going to leave you, Jungkook,” you try and comfort, “I love you.”

He shakes his head, dark locks bouncing around. “I know, I know,” he sighs, but it doesn’t sound like he believes you. It sounds like he’s forcing himself into composure again, jaw flexing as he shakes his head. “But— what if—” another aggravated huff, his thighs jumping anxiously. “You’ll get bored.” Not a question, but a statement.

“Of you?” you ask anyway. He nods. “I won’t.”

He sits up so suddenly you have to move away to avoid bumping into him. “You will,” he urges, finally looking at you, distress painted over every inch of his face. “That guy, that Seokjin, he sounds more interesting than me. He sounds cool and put together, like the world is his oyster and,” he rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “You talk about him sometimes and... and you call him a god, __,” he stresses, doesn’t leave room for you to object. “And I know you’re joking, but—“ a sharp inhale, and then, quietly, “everyone gets bored of me, __.”

Your frown deepens. “But I won’t,” you argue, confident in your claim, shifting onto your knees beside him. Your dress is thrown over the armrest of the couch, and the draft in your apartment makes goosebumps rise on your bare flesh. “You’re not boring, Jungkook,” you tell him, voice softening when his features pinch up, nose wrinkling as he wards off the stinging behind his eyes.

It’s teenage trauma. Jungkook had told you at least that much before, this crippling sense of loneliness and an inferiority complex that hindered him during an influential growth period of his life. It’s why he’s so quiet when he has so much to say, why he brings you along to every party he gets invited to; he’s never felt like he was enough by himself.

Sometimes, it leaks into his confessions. “I don’t deserve you,” he says frequently, but some days you want to hot glue him to a chair and force him to listen to every reason why he does and always will deserve you or anyone for that matter. “You make me better,” he claims, but he does that all on his own, lights up the world with his smile alone.

He’s gotten better, that much you’ve learned from Namjoon and Taehyung. And even you’ve noticed it on your own, watched as he animatedly talked with his friends and his coworkers, drew people naturally to him with his warm aura.

Even still, there’s moments where he relapses. Moments like this.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs beside you, “I know I’m a handful—“

“You’re not,” you interrupt, cupping his soft cheek in your hand, turning him to face you. Jungkook leans into the touch, and your heart breaks in half when a tear escapes over his waterline, pretty eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not a handful, Jungkook,” you tell him, shuffling closer until you can press your forehead against his. The truth is, you don’t know how to comfort him, but this is how he’s always comforted you; it feels nice when he does it for you. “You’re just enough,” you say, voice soft because it feels like your precious boy is about to fall apart in your arms, his shallow breaths rivaling the volume of the television. “You’ve always been enough.”

He sniffles, and another tear tickles the side of your thumb, catching the light. “I’m sorry,” he repeats anyway, a disbelieving chuckle tacked on at the end.

“Don’t be,” you shush, pushing away a strand of hair when he leans closer. His frown is still prominent, pink lips red and soft under your thumb when you tap your finger against them. “You can tell me when things worry you, you know,” you inform him, heart swelling when his eyes fall shut and he leans into your touch. He’s so handsome, the cute little mole beneath his lip begging to be kissed. “I’ll always listen.”

Jungkook hums, breathing evening out. “I know you will,” he says. “But I like listening to your voice more, and I can’t do that when I’m talking.”

You snort and Jungkook finally lets a tiny smile slip. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after your meltdown,” you mumble, kissing his cheek softly.

Jungkook chuckles, real this time, and sniffles right afterwards. “I’ll flirt with you whenever I want.” And, because he’s just so full of surprises tonight, he sniffles once more before he’s unceremoniously tackling you back onto the couch. You squeal, the TV remote digging into your back painfully. It has the volume accidentally skyrocketing, startling the both of you with an ear-shattering orchestral piece at the height of some emotional scene. Jungkook scrambles to free the device and lower the volume before your eardrums burst. “I didn’t even know your TV could go that loud,” he says, and he’s speaking normally but the deafening violins are still reverberating in your head, making him sound quieter than he really is.

“Come here,” you say instead, and he obeys, crawling into your arms, mouth hovering just over yours. “You feeling better?”

Jungkook nods, dark hair bouncing. “You make me better,” he tries, but after tonight’s realization, you respond to his corny words with a pinch against his doughy cheek instead.

“Don’t say that,” you frown, toying with one of the earrings decorating his ear. The tip of his nose is flushed red, the exertion from crying catching up to him. His lashes are dark, probably feel so heavy with the residual tears that cling to them.

Jungkook repositions himself, guides your legs around his waist. “Why not? It’s true.” He glances at your mouth. “You make my life better.”

“Wrong,” you say bluntly, brushing his hair back with your hands. “Your own perception and understanding of your experiences makes your life better. I just happen to be in it.” Jungkook looks the tiniest bit surprised at your suddenly logical argument. “Trust me, I saw it in a documentary the other day.”

At that he laughs, full and loud, pecking your lips once with a sweet smile on his face. “Now I know you’re lying,” he grins, gently nudging his nose against yours. The drama on the TV is but a quiet hum compared to the pounding of your heart in your chest when he looks at you like that. “Because you don’t even like documentaries.”

You kiss him softly, holding his hair back for him. He tastes a little bit like the chocolate cake he had at the restaurant and the lemonade he drank (he didn’t indulge in the sweet wine with you because he needed to drive). His lips mold perfectly against yours, and he sighs softly when he finally draws back. “But I like you,” you purr.

Jungkook’s eyes darken, one heavy exhale fanning across the lower half of your face. You readjust the leg around his waist, pull him closer just the slightest bit. “Don’t flirt with me so soon after my meltdown,” he repeats, lips brushing against yours. You chuckle. “You don’t know what that means to me.” You can roughly guess, but that opportunity is taken away when Jungkook slots his mouth against yours, soft lips molding to yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, wastes no time slipping in when you open for him, hot and wet.

Jungkook’s fingers are just as warm when he trails them up the back of your thigh, pulls you impossibly closer until the buckle on his belt is pressed flush against your mound. A tiny whimper escapes your lips, chest jumping just the slightest from the pressure. It makes Jungkook pull away with an easygoing grin, chocolate eyes half-lidded. “You okay?” he murmurs, breath a little shaky from the kiss. You nod, tangling your fingers behind his head and pulling him in close again.

He evades your puckered lips, ducking down to press his own against your throat, right beneath your jaw. “Ugh,” you groan, digging your nails into his back through his satin shirt. “I wanted a kiss.”

Jungkook nips at your skin, this tiny gesture that couldn’t hurt even if he tried. “You always want a kiss,” he retorts softly, the quiet smack of his lips filling your ears as he bestows a series of smooches against your skin. And it’s so devastatingly tender how he handles you, like you’re made of glass and will break at a moment’s notice, like he wants to treasure your body for the rest of his—

Jungkook chomps down, hard, and you hiss. “Sit still,” he orders, soothing over the bite with one broad lick of his tongue.

You whimper. “That hurt.”

“And it’ll hurt even more if you keep moving,” he warns you, and before you can ask what that even means, he’s leaving another stinging bite just further down. It’s at the midway point of your neck, right in front, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat when he sucks a painful mark over it. “There,” he says, mostly to himself. “All mine.”

Your legs tighten around him, and you fight down the wave of heat that threatens to consume you when he places one final kiss over the second mark— the hickey.

Jungkook doesn’t usually leave them. In fact, you can rarely recall a time where he had purposefully gone out of his way to mark you up like this. It was always accidental, always unplanned, because he knew how troublesome it was for you to cover them up for work the next morning. Work, where your coworkers and your bosses and Seokjin could see.

Brows pinched together, your brain begins to draw a connection, one that Jungkook is soon confirming himself. “Everyone will see that now,” he hums, kissing a trail down your neck.

Of course.

You pat the back of his head in amusement, hiding a smile against his soft locks. Before you can say anything more, maybe tease him for being so cute, there’s a hand on your hip that snaps you out of your scheming. Jungkook lifts his head, does that endearing little head shake that pushes his hair out of his eyes, before leaning in for another languid kiss.

It’s even slower than the first, mostly because he’s a little too preoccupied with running his hands over your body now. It starts at your shoulder, teasingly snaps the strap of your bra as you push your tongue down his throat. Jungkook whimpers, that pretty sound that makes you desperate to hear more. It’s the same sound that he always makes when he wants to be pampered, wants you to kiss his entire body while he lays there and takes it.

And you’re all too ready to act on it.

Duty calls and you’re there to answer, tilting his head for him with your hands against his cheeks. He sighs against you, breath trembling as it tickles across your skin. That soft and tender way that makes you melt because he’s just so precious, so dreamy.

But you’re too caught up in your plotting to remember the hand he’s got on your hip, the one that teases the waistband of your panties with one lone finger. It’s only when Jungkook pulls away from your inviting mouth, his other hand holding you down by your shoulder, that you’re snapped back into reality. His lips are swollen and red, slick from your tongue, and so tantalizingly kissable. He huffs out a breath, eyes flickering over your face. “Can I touch you,” he husks, and gives into the temptation to press a kiss against your jaw.

“Yes, please,” you shiver, hypnotized by his hungry stare.

Jungkook wastes no time, pressing another kiss against the bruising mark over your throat that dissolves into a series of lighter smooches he trails down between your breasts. His hands come up to cup your boobs over your bra, giving them one harsh squeeze that has you releasing a long exhale as he moves between the valley and down your tummy, over your belly button. “Open,” he says at your pubic bone, carefully guiding your legs apart until you’re spread wide for him.

The dark panties you’re wearing tonight— the super expensive ones you had spent an hour measuring your body for the exact sizing —receive one light kiss over the front. “Always so pretty for me,” Jungkook murmurs, tracing one lone finger down the middle. Your stomach contracts when he nudges it against you, the soft material of your panties just barely pushed between your folds.

As his hand occupies itself with some relatively light foreplay, Jungkook tasks himself with leaving another tingling mark against your skin. This time, it’s on the inside of your thigh. He starts it off slowly, a few littered kisses against the skin until he deems one spot worthy enough and abruptly sinks his teeth into you. “Not so hard,” you whimper, reaching down to bury your hands in his hair.

Jungkook lets it go, sloppily licking over the area. “You like it hard,” he husks, meeting your gaze as he licks one, long stripe over the tender skin. “Don’t you?” You nod demurely, pressing your knuckles against your lips to hold back a tiny moan from slipping past your lips.

With that new mark blooming over your skin, Jungkook transfers his attention to your pussy, hidden beneath the soft material of your panties. One finger hooks under the hem, tucking them aside until he can see you in your entirety. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing one light kiss over your clit that makes you inhale sharply, fingers digging into his scalp. Jungkook throws one final glance your way before letting his tongue slip past his lips, the very tip flicking against your clit.

Your breathing becomes shallow, anticipation building in the pits of your stomach as he slowly but surely begins playing with you. His tongue is so warm and wet, nudges your throbbing clit, nose pressed against your mound. “Mmm,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut as his mouth works wonders.

“Ah,” you gasp, whiny and high-pitched, when he dips one finger past your wet folds. The entry is seamless, his pointer finger sinking into the velvet walls of your cunt as his tongue swirls against your hardened bud. “Jungkook,” you mewl, knocking your heel against his shoulder. Jungkook huffs, suctions his lips around your clit. The cold metal of the rings he always wears— the duo set from that Chrome Hearts brand he likes so much —presses against the trembling lips of your pussy, makes your back arch when he twists his finger inside of you.

He’s so precise with his tongue, knows just how long and how hard to lick against your pulsing clit until you’re trembling, thighs quivering. Briefly, he pulls away, flicks his hair to the side in one suave motion that lets you see his dark eyes when he glances back up at you again, covered in a thick sheen of lust that makes them appear almost black as opposed to his usual warm brown. His hands reach for the waistband of your panties, tug them off with one fluid pull.

“So pretty for me,” he murmurs, the end of his words laced with a slight rasp that makes your hips jump. “All for me,” he says, roughly pushing his finger into you again. The harshness makes your entire body tighten up in surprise, eyes fluttering shut when he slips his middle finger alongside his pointer this time around.

“Baby, wait,” you whimper, walls fluttering around the two digits. Jungkook leans back in, presses a chaste kiss against your clit that makes your breathing stall as he thrusts his fingers into you.

He ignores your cries, locks his lips at the juncture where your thigh meets your body, sensitive skin that bruises all too easily when he sucks against it too hard. “Only for me,” he sighs, all pretenses discarded as he begins rapidly and roughly fucking his fingers into you. It’s intense, has your thighs quaking as he speeds them up.

The coil in your stomach tightens, and you have to bite down on your knuckles to stop the litany of whimpers from slipping past your lips when Jungkook ducks down again. He bypasses your quivering clit, warm tongue licking at the warm, wet folds around his fingers instead. The proximity makes the tip of his round nose brush along the length of your cunt, a sight and sensation that makes you moan, his bangs harshly tugged away from his forehead to give you the perfect view.

It’s with a particularly hard shove and twist combination of his fingers into your clenching walls that you cum, a gasp caught in your throat as your hips push toward him, chasing the feeling Jungkook bestows upon you. Your breathing is a mess, inhales too short, your exhales inconsistent, as Jungkook slows the speed of his fingers inside of you, lets your cum ooze out around them, coat his fingers and his rings.

“No,” you cry, watching that look come over his face when he withdraws his hand, the look that usually follows him sucking your cum into his mouth. “Jungkook, you don’t have to do that—” you whine, reaching for his wrist and yanking it towards you.

Jungkook follows, crawls back up beside you as he chases his own sticky fingers. “It’s mine,” he urges, has this weird look in his eyes you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. And just as quickly as it crosses his features, he’s lurching forward to catch his own fingers in his mouth. It’s lewd, the way his tongue wraps around them, leaves them sleek under the TV glow, tattoos and rings glistening. He has the audacity to moan, eyes fluttering shut as his devious tongue slips down between his fingers, so long and precise. There’s a tiny noise that tears itself from your throat, one that has him flickering his clouded gaze up to you as his fingers are released from between his own lips. “You like that,” he murmurs, wet fingers trailing down your cheek, capturing your chin to turn your face his way completely.

His tongue is sinful as it slips past your lips again, the tangy taste of yourself clinging to him. His breathing feels hot, suffocating. But his kisses are so good, make your mind go blank. So blank, that the fingers that rub at your clit surprise you completely. “Kook,” you gasp, breaking away from him in surprise.

Jungkook doesn’t let you get far, capturing your mouth with his again. The two fingers you had felt on your chin are gone, firmly pressed against your swollen clit, experimentally rubbing against it. Never mind the fact you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, thighs quivering when he drags them against the wet, soft skin. It makes you shudder, breaking away from him a second time for a desperately needed inhale of fresh air. Jungkook follows behind closely, pressing kisses over your jawline, your chin, as his fingers continue moving against your clit.

He has them pressed together, rubbing at the front of your slit where that bundle of nerves is hidden. It makes your stomach contract, hips jerking forward into the touch in an effort to match him, to speed up the process. “You were made for me, pretty girl,” Jungkook huffs against your cheek, nose pressed against your skin because he’s just so close, practically molded into your side as his fingers send rhythmic shocks of ecstasy up your spine.

Your mouth drops open, stuttered gasps filtering through your lips as Jungkook takes advantage of your sensitive body to draw out another orgasm. But there’s a weird sensation that builds in your stomach this time, one that brings with it a sense of panic. “Wait—“ you gasp, fisting the silky material of his shirt beneath one clenched fist. “Jungkook,” you warn, toes curling.

He responds with a harsh nip against your lower lip that makes you whimper. “Go ahead,” he purrs, rubbing his fingers over you at an insane speed, one that has your juices sloppily spread over your pussy, makes you buck into him and moan against his mouth.

The feeling grows, an intense, unfamiliar thing that you rarely recall ever feeling before, gasping for air as Jungkook’s fingers caress your clit, pressing down hard. “Fffuck, fuck,” you sob, mouth opening in a silent scream, eyes rolling backwards as you feel your pussy lips contract harder than ever before, thighs quivering as your juices squirt out of you, lower body reduced to jello as Jungkook quickens his movements, wrists jerking back and forth as your pleasure sprays out of you. “Ju— Jungkook,” you wail, forcefully slamming your thighs shut when he doesn’t stop, the pleasure seemingly never-ending under such a torturous touch. “Stop—stop,” you beg, eyes filling with tears that spill over when his trapped hand manages one final rough rub against your clit accompanied by a final gush of wetness.

Only then does he stop, leaning back on his knees to drink you in with dark eyes that make you quiver. There’s no trace of his usual post-orgasm cockiness, the smile he’ll flash you, the teasing jabs. Nothing, just a frankly terrifying gaze that has you self-consciously pressing your hands over your chest.

Jungkook doesn’t take kindly to it, roughly snatching one of your wrists up until you’re sitting up, the traces of your own orgasm present in the damp couch cushions beneath you, inner thighs coated in a thin sheen of your own pleasure. Jungkook leans in close, nose bumping against yours. “You came like that for me,” he says quietly, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You nod, eyes wide and teary when he reaches for the front of his shirt, giving it the same treatment he usually gives yours; two hands at the front, yanking it apart until the buttons are torn from their stitches and bouncing across your floor.

He throws it off to the side, his tan skin highlighted by the cool tones of the television, the dark sleeve of his tattoo especially prominent. The black ink almost looks blue under this light. You’re so distracted by the perfect swirls and doodles on Jungkook’s skin that you don’t realize that same hand is reaching for you until it’s too late, long fingers wrapping around your throat to jerk you forward, head tipping back to look up at him. “Say it, sweet girl,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded. “Tell me you’re mine.”

The fingers around your throat squeeze once and then slowly begin tightening. You gasp, meeting his hooded gaze with yours, lips quivering for a response that’s stuck in your throat, trapped by your own surprise and tightening airways. Frantically, you reach for his wrists with both hands, not to pull Jungkook’s hand away, but to ground yourself from the hazy cloud of lust the moment evokes.

Still, your body isn’t as strong as you thought, and once Jungkook reaches a certain tightness around your throat you find yourself coughing. Instantly, he loosens his grip. But not too much. “I- I’m yours,” you rasp out, gasping for air.

For now, it satisfies Jungkook enough for him to release you. And while you’re grateful for the rush of fresh air that fills your lungs, the phantom ghost of his grip around your throat sends a new gush of wetness between your thighs. One that grows tenfold when Jungkook reaches for his belt, undoes it easily. It comes off with one fluid motion, carelessly shucked off to the side as his attention moves to the front of his pants instead.

He doesn’t let you sit around uselessly. “On your knees,” he says, so quietly you almost don’t hear it. “Sit on your knees facing the table.”

You blink slowly, the dry tears on your cheeks leaving stiff trails against your makeup. It takes a moment for your brain to process his request, one long second that has Jungkook pausing in his movements, leveling you with one solemn glare that eventually has you springing into action. You hastily slip off the couch, shuffling toward the coffee table between it and the television. The rug is soft beneath your knees, a luxury you can’t enjoy to the fullest because there’s a ball of excitement and fear stuck in your throat. (Right beneath your bruised skin and recuperating windpipes.) Sitting back on your calves, it feels like every nerve is standing stiff as you await his instructions.

“Bra off,” Jungkook says from behind you, and you’re startled by the sudden ripping of stitches behind you, almost turning to look at him. He stops you with one hand around the back of your neck, drawing a surprised gasp from you. “Sit still,” he commands, your back stiff straight, eyes focused on the screen. After a beat, Jungkook lets you go, pats the back of your head gingerly. “Good girl.”

A whimper catches in your throat at the praise, and you barely manage to bite down on it in time, hurriedly reaching behind you. Your hands fidget over the clasps on your bra, and you nearly jump out of your skin when one lone finger traces down your spine, undoing your bra for you. You don’t know why, but you say, “thank you.”

The television changes scenes in front of you, the bright colors a stark contrast to the darkness of Jungkook’s eyes. Your hands tremble in front of you, fingers anxiously tangling with each other. A few inches beside you, there’s a dark red box filled with the flowers from—

Suddenly, your vision goes dark, hands instinctively reaching up to your eyes. The pads of your fingers come in contact with a soft material, smooth and silky. Just like— “Is this… ?” you murmur, hands sliding across the makeshift blindfold Jungkook’s made for you, the same texture as his shirt had been.

He doesn’t grace you with an answer, just a hand against your hip as he, presumably, settles behind you. “Does it matter?” Jungkook says instead, voice all too close to your ear. Your entire body locks up, hands quickly returning to their spot against the coffee table.

Just as you’d suspected, Jungkook is all too close now, hands crawling over your body. They start at your waist, massage the skin tenderly, lovingly, before gliding up to cup your breasts. You shiver, a quiet exhale escaping you as Jungkook rubs his palms over your boobs, trapping your stiff nipples between his fingers. A sound threatens to escape you, and you trap it behind a bitten lip, fists clenched against the table before you. “You know,” Jungkook says conversationally, like he’s not pinching your nipples enough to make you squirm. “Who else do you think can make you come like this?”

You brain lags. “W- What?” you stutter, thighs pressing together to ward away the arousal. Not like they’re already sticky from before, from when Jungkook had made you squirt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat, pressing a kiss against your shoulder that he trails up to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Who else,” he says slowly, “can make you come like this?”

It’s not a trick question— no one could. You tell Jungkook as much. “I— no one,” you answer, rolling your lips in when he kisses the tender spot beneath your ear again.

His kisses feel loud, but not as loud as his voice when he says, “exactly.” You swallow, gripping at the edge of the coffee table when he releases your boobs, trails one hand between your thighs, the other around your throat to pull you backwards against his chest. It makes your hands flail, landing against the tops of his thick thighs.

Jungkook holds you close, fingers tightening around your throat teasingly. “No one else can please you like you want,” he exhales, letting his fingers trail over your skin. “Not the guy on tv, not your exes, not the fucking loser at your job,” he hisses, lips against your ear. “No one,” he reiterates, voice softer now as he presses a kiss against you. “No one but me.”

And it’s true.

You can’t even muster your usual mouthy, bratty attitude when Jungkook serves you cold hard facts like this. Not when you can feel his aching member press against the small of your back, rest perfectly in the slight dip between your ass cheeks. “Isn’t that right, sweet girl?” he murmurs, voice low.

You nod, tummy tightening when he uses the hand between your thighs to spread them apart. “Only you,” you agree, voice feathery.

Jungkook hides a grin against your skin, a mean chuckle escaping him when he rests his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck,” he says, releasing your throat. “Such a good girl,” he praises, hands on your hips again. He uses them to encourage you up onto your knees, hips bumping into the edge of the table as he shuffles you forward. “Bend,” he says quietly, palm flat on the center of your back, pushing you down until your belly button is pressed against the cold wood, boobs swinging forward just the slightest. “Perfect.”

Jungkook shuffles up behind you, soothes a hand over your hip when you flinch at the first press of his cock against your folds. “You’re okay,” he comforts, voice like honey as he lines himself up. Your folds are slippery and wet, loose from your arousal and the two orgasms he’s already given you.

Despite all that, the first push of his engorged cock past the tight muscles makes you gasp. “Baby, that’s,” you moan, nails scratching against the coffee table to make a sound that you would otherwise find uncomfortable. “I—“

Jungkook pants behind you, cock sinking further and further in. “I’ve got you,” he husks. His voice is like the light at the end of the tunnel, your dark vision forcing you to rely on him entirely as he guides you through the motions. “Made for me,” he repeats, voice airy.

You nod jerkily, arms trembling as his cock plunges deeper inside of you. “Made for you,” you gasp, head falling forward, forehead pressed against the cold surface in front of you.

He moans, and there’s one deafening moment of silence when he finally reaches the hilt, soft pubic hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your folds. It’s a familiar sensation, having him buried inside of you, but it’s always different when he’s doing it from behind. He always feels fuller, bigger, mushroom tip practically kissing your cervix.

“Kook,” you whimper, walls unintentionally contracting around him when he lingers a second too long. “Move.”

“Fuck, fuck,” he curses behind you. “I know, it’s just—“ he pauses, squeezes your hip so hard, you’re certain it’ll bruise. “I wanna… y’know,” he groans, dropping his head against your back, warm breath fanning across your slightly sweaty skin.

It makes something in your stomach click into place, shifting back just the slightest. The small drag around your lips makes you brave. “Then do it,” you urge, desperate for any sort of friction.

Jungkook practically growls, bucking into you once. “No,” he says, like he’s battling with himself, faced with a mental hurdle he can only cross alone. “You don’t understand,” he sneers, suddenly snapping back into position behind you, pulling you flush against his pelvis once more. It makes you whimper.

“I kinda do—“

“You don’t,” Jungkook hisses, forcefully thrusting his hips into you enough to make your hips knock painfully against the edge of the coffee table, a startled moan falling from between your lips. And from there, it’s like you’ve unleashed a beast, because Jungkook shows you no mercy as he begins fucking you, his fat cock slipping in and out of you, his angry head flirting with your entrance. “I wanna fucking breed you,” he sneers, fingers digging into the skin around your waist to hold you still as he bucks his hips forward.

His vulgarity makes your skin heat up, the warmth probably tangible over your sloppily made blindfold, eyes wide despite the fabric that covers them. “That—” you gasp, thighs trembling with each powerful thrust.

“It’s too much, I fucking know,” he huffs dryly, releasing one hip to press against your shoulders, roughly shoving you forward until your breasts are pressed against the surface, arms bent up beside you to stop yourself from hitting your head. “But— But,” he shudders, suddenly stopping his thrusts to grind his cock against you instead, pussy lips quivering around his girthy member. “I wanna,” he pants, “wanna see you so fucking full of me, because— you’re mine, __,” he seethes, “right?”

You nod blindly, dumbly, brain too flooded with the stimulation he’s bestowing upon you to think properly. “I- I am,” you confirm, gasping for air. “And you’re mine,” you manage to get out, one hand slapping down against the coffee table when he draws his cock out, slams himself back into you quickly.

“I’m yours,” Jungkook slurs behind you, slowly picking up his pace again. The hand on your back lets go, and it’s with trembling arms that you manage to push yourself back onto your forearms, one hand blindly reaching for the hand he’s got gripping at your hips.

“Oh my god,” you whimper, the sounds coming from your connected bodies so lewd and obscene, disgustingly wet when Jungkook slips back inside. He surges forward again, and you try to catch your balance, knees quivering underneath the force of his thrusts. Your hand slides over the tabletop in a feeble effort to hold onto something, anything. You can’t see, and even if you could there’s not much to hold onto on a flat surface.

Except the box your hand knocks into. Your confusion lasts for only about a second because then Jungkook is ramming his cock into you, over and over, until you’re certain your hips are going to bruise and your knees are going to give out. Jungkook’s moans are soft and feathery, sighs that fan over your shoulder and make your back arch, eyes rolling backwards for the briefest second as if you were possessed.

“Mine,” he whimpers, desperate and needy, fingernails digging into your skin as he pushes on. “Gonna be mine forever,” he growls. “Gonna— Gonna be so pretty and big,” he moans, “tits so fucking full.” The image he puts in your mind makes you dizzy.

You nod dumbly, knuckles bumping against the box a second time. “Jungkook,” you choke out, fingers blindly nudging the box aside. But there’s no strength behind it, your entire body feeling weak and useless, all the energy concentrated in the coil in your stomach, the one that grows and tightens with every entrance of Jungkook’s cock into your pulsing walls. “There’s— There’s something,” you gasp, pinky finger tapping against it.

Behind you, Jungkook stills, harsh breaths deafeningly loud. Louder than the television and the corny music that plays, the mindless chatter of the characters you couldn’t name even if you tried. “Why would you...” Jungkook huffs, irritation lacing his words.

You don’t get to question it, because a second later his finger is tucking itself beneath your blindfold, yanking it off carelessly. It makes your head crane backwards, a tiny yelp torn from your lips as the blinding glow of the TV attacks your poor eyes at full force. Jungkook’s long since stopped his rapid thrusts, and it’s only when you glance off to the side that you realize why.

It’s the stupid box of flowers Seokjin had sent you, the one Jungkook had placed on the coffee table when you first got home.

Behind you, Jungkook releases one long exhale, both of you looking at the arrangement with various degrees of discomfort. “Did you like them,” he murmurs, cock throbbing inside of you.

You shake your head, a soft, “no,” falling from your lips. The muscles in your thighs quiver like mad.

Jungkook says nothing, but you watch as one inked arm stretches out from behind you, the movement of his hips pushing his cock deeper into you. A tiny whimper catches in your throat, watching as Jungkook hooks a finger over the lip of the box. One swift tug has it gliding over the tabletop, coming to a stop right beside your forearm. Jungkook leans back, the silence terrifying.

“Did you think they were pretty?” he asks, tracing one finger down your spine. Your lower lip trembles as your eyes scan over the bouquet, at the pretty color selection and lovely scent that joined together to overwhelm your senses.

“No,” you say, but it feels like a lie.

And Jungkook thinks so too, wrapping one hand around your throat and pulling you back forcefully. It’s the same as he did earlier, but with his cock deep inside your pussy, it sends a shock throughout your entire nervous system, a sob tearing itself from within you as he unintentionally pushes himself deeper inside. “Did you,” he says a second time, practically seething, “think Seokjin’s flowers were pretty?”

Your eyes flicker nervously across the screen in front of you, but everything is a blur, Jungkook’s harsh breathing against your ear. “Yes,” you confess, whimpering when his fingers tighten around your throat, press down against your windpipe as he inhales sharply. “But they’re just flow—“ He squeezes your throat so hard, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, mind growing fuzzy. Eventually, he lets go and you dissolve into a fit of coughs, bent over the coffee table again as Jungkook slips his stiff cock out from within you. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle, throwing a teary-eyed look over your shoulder.

What you’re not expecting is for Jungkook to grab that same shoulder and roughly push you onto your side away from the coffee table, falling onto the fluffy rug as he shoves you down. “Something pretty for a pretty girl,” he sneers, biting down a frankly maniacal grin.

“What?” you exhale, probably looking at him with the same maniacal look in your eyes.

(You were made for each other, so crazy and in love.)

Jungkook stretches one toned arm out, and you flinch when he uses that same beautiful arm to send the box of flowers flying over the edge of the coffee table, a hard thwack resounding throughout the room when they land face down on the other side, petals against the floor, water dripping out from inside.

With those out of the way, Jungkook wastes no time flipping you over, face shoved down against the soft rug as he angles your hips up. “Thinking about someone else when I’m right here,” he growls, ramming his cock back into you with no warning. You sob, clawing at nothing as he bucks forward. “What a mean girl,” Jungkook scolds.

“I- I wasn’t,” you defend weakly, shivering as he snaps his hips against you, the rug irritating your cheek when the motion sends you forward. Jungkook uses the hands on your hips to pull you back, your skin clapping together loudly.

“You think Seokjin would— would fuck you like this?” he spits, using you like a toy as he fucks basically for himself, cock sliding in and out of your squelching walls. “You think he’d push you down and—and call you a stupid girl?”

You shake your head, eyes squeezed shut to fight the wave of tears threatening your waterline. Truthfully, it doesn’t make much of a difference, especially not when Jungkook yanks your hips back again, your entrance sensitive from all the friction. “No, no,” you sob. ”He wouldn't.”

Jungkook scoffs, not bothering to slow his pace down. “Of course he wouldn’t,” he spits, and then, strikes your ass. Two hard cracks of his palm, rings and all, against the globes of your ass. You wail, unconsciously jerking away only for Jungkook to drag you back. “Stupid girl,” Jungkook sighs, cock twitching inside of you. You can feel the beads of precum oozing out from the tip of his cock inside you, their warmth making you shudder.

Your other ass cheek receives the same treatment, two harsh smacks that leave the skin tingling, blood rising to the surface. “Stupid, stupid girl,” he repeats, palms rubbing over your cheeks for a brief second, only to strike down again. “Aren’t you?” You nod, fat tears dripping out of the corner of your eyes and down onto the fluffy rug beneath you. Your behind stings, pain blossoming over your skin. But it’s the good kind, the one that has drool escaping from the corner of your lips from how overwhelmed it leaves you.

“I- I’m a stupid girl,” you agree, your words punctuated by a series of tiny sobs and sniffles. Your walls feel sensitive, raw, from his thrusts. You’re ready to come, trembling hands slithering down to reach for your clit.

“Don’t,” Jungkook warns, snatching your arm up and twisting it behind you.

You cry, tears and drool against the rug. “I wanna come,” you whimper, trying your other hand only for it to meet a similar demise. “Please,” you sniffle, turning your face the other way as if the angle will somehow be different.

“You don’t come until I say so,” Jungkook hisses, using his grip on your wrists to tug you onto his cock. You moan, choke on your own saliva from the force, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix for real this time. It renders you stupid, just like Jungkook had called you, chin trembling as your eyes roll backwards. Behind you, Jungkook grunts something deep and raspy. “Fffuck,” he spits, pistoning his hips into your inviting heat. “You were doing so good tonight—“ a particular brutal buck of his hips, a loud moan torn from your lips “—but first those fucking flowers and now this?”

The rhythm of his deep thrusts cut your moans into stuttered little cries, your words broken with every ram of his cock inside of you. Your walls feel worn, every brush sending a tingling shock up your spine. “I- I’m sorry,” you weep, shoulders shaking from your own tears and the rumbling orgasm that’s just about ready to snap.

Jungkook says nothing, too busy shoving his cock inside of you to grace you with a response. Instead, you’re subjected to his relentless thrusts, sharp gasps from his pretty mouth. “Fuck,” he pants, releasing your wrists after one particular thrusts, your walls clenching around him painfully when he draws his cock out.

“I can’t,” you sniffle, knees giving out before he can catch you, sadly sinking down onto the plush rug. “Kook, I—”

Jungkook makes a sound, something between a growl and a roar in the back of his throat as he follows behind you, planting two firm hands on the sides of your head to use as leverage to fuck himself in. With your thighs pressed flat together, the squeeze is tighter than ever before, and your eyes roll backwards as he gets to work, walls fluttering from the overstimulation.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he pants, all games thrown aside as he begins pounding his cock past your folds, deep into your contracting walls, until that tight spring in your stomach gives out and you’re clenching up beneath him, entire body going stiff for one long beat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you weep, thighs quivering as you cream his cock, make his movements so slippery and wet, almost dangerous when he’s going this fast. His name falls from your trembling lips, every nickname and pet name you’ve ever given him mindlessly blubbered through your orgasm. Jungkook pays you no mind, thighs tensing up as he chases his high, short breaths and moans filling the space as he fucks himself into you. Until, finally, a few deep strokes later, he’s coming with a shuddered cry of your name on his tongue, collapsing over you, forehead pressed to your back as he catches his breath.

“Fuck,” he groans one last time, body going slack very quickly. He slumps down beside you, softening cock slipping out of your tender folds.

The floor between the coffee table and the couch is dark, the television glow not reaching down here. Even still, the sweat clinging to Jungkook makes him look like a sparkly Twilight vampire, the dip between his pecs collecting the smallest pool of sweat. You can’t stop yourself from running your pointer finger along the skin, over his nipple. His pec jumps deliciously under the attention. “Stop,” Jungkook sighs, catching your wrist in his, pressing his lips to your knuckles in an attempt to distract you. “Or I’ll really get you pregnant next time.”

You push yourself onto your elbows, pinching his doughy cheek. “You won’t,” you tease. Jungkook flicks his hair away from his eyes to level you with a look you’ve never seen before, not a trace of his usual post-sex playfulness to be found. It has you retracting your hand, eyes wide when he doesn’t stand down. Still, you can’t lose. “...No you won’t,” you repeat, quieter, almost unsure. Almost a question.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, tugging you into his arms. He’s all sweaty and sticky, just like you. He’s lucky he doesn’t have four separate loads of cum— three from you, one from him —sticking between his thighs. “Keep telling yourself that,” he pants, so smoothly. Too smoothly. It makes you clench your thighs, something Jungkook doesn’t miss. “Stop it,” he warns a second time.

“You’re just so dreamy,” you whine, sitting back up to play with his hand. “Like, when you made me squirt?” He chuckles softly, eyes fluttering shut. “Not gonna lie, I thought I saw the answer to the universe for a second.”

He’s worn out today, more than usual, that he doesn’t bother gracing you with a response. But it had been a long day for Jungkook; from planning an entire date, to the Seokjin debacle, to the crazy hot sex he’d gifted you. It was only reasonable. You reward his efforts with a soft peck against his cheek that makes him smile, a light blush painting his cheeks. “You did good today,” you hum, patting chest comfortingly.

“Felt like I was in a Viki drama,” he confesses after a moment, has that tiny smile on his face that makes the apples of his cheeks especially round, especially cute. “The kind that have twelve plot lines going on.”

You laugh, snuggling beside him. The rug feels dirty, but so do you so the feeling is cancelled out or whatever. “You’d be the Park Seojoon of any Viki drama,” you tell him, and Jungkook laughs.

That loud and airy one he reserves only for you.

epilogue

Namjoon calls Jungkook’s phone a little after eleven, talking your ear off about some date he’d gone on while Jungkook is in the shower. You tell him about what happened with Seokjin and like all respectable college mentors, he just about flips. “You can sue him,” Namjoon hisses, furious for you. Not that you aren’t anymore, but in a weird act of impulsiveness, Jungkook had gone outside and ran the stupid box of flowers over with his car as you watched from the open window of your apartment. It was weirdly cathartic.

He’s in the shower now, humming the lyrics to one of the songs from Secretary Kim, a song called It’s You by Jeong Sewoon (thank you, Shazam), that makes every inch of your body overflow with adoration when he hits that long note. Anyway, you’re perusing the rest of the streaming service for a movie to watch. Jungkook said you couldn’t watch Train to Busan tonight, something about it ruining the mood. So now you’re debating between a historical romcom or a modern romcom.

Over the line, Namjoon is doing all the raging for you. “Men are trash,” he huffs one last time, before eventually letting it go. (For now.) “Hey, do you know how to cover up hickeys?” he asks suddenly, just as Jungkook reappears in the living room. His skin is glowing, looking like the hottest man alive. The window is still open, a feeble attempt to air out the smell of sex in the room, and the draft makes Jungkook shiver because his hair is still a little wet.

“Hickeys?” you repeat, stretching a hand out for him as he rounds the couch. Jungkook takes it, places a soft smooch against your knuckles, close to your promise ring. Your heartbeat stutters just as Namjoon hums.

“Yeah, this girl,” he says, cutting himself off with a laugh. One you recognize all too well because it’s the same one you let out when you talk about Jungkook to other people. Said boy settles close beside you, leans his cheek against your head when you snuggle into his neck. As soon as he’s there, you lose all rights to the remote, watching as Jungkook completely disregards all your searching just to click back onto Secretary Kim. He had missed a whole episode. “We went a little crazy tonight—“ you gag at the image Namjoon places in your head “—and Doyeon bites kinda hard—“

“Doyeon?” you interrupt, all mental processes coming to an abrupt halt as the name bounces around your mind. Jungkook, having mastered the art of listening in on your phone calls by now, freezes beside you. “You know a Doyeon?”

“Yeah!” Namjoon says excitedly as you sit up. Jungkook meets your gaze, big Bambi eyes giving the performance of a lifetime, and gives your this overly innocent shrug of his shoulders that tells you more about what he does know than what he doesn’t. “Kim Doyeon. She went to your school— actually, she graduated with you and Kook.”

The world comes to a complete stop as you glare at Jungkook, his panicked features cueing you in to the fact he was aware of this, as you’d suspected. “Namjoon,” you say slowly, fist tightening around Jungkook’s phone. “Are you aware you’re fucking my best friend?”

There’s a long silence on the other end, Namjoon presumably processing the information while Jungkook tries to calm the boiling anger within you. “He didn’t know,” Jungkook whispers, big pretty eyes on you as he tries to save Namjoon from you.

All his efforts are in vain when Namjoon clears his throat and so eloquently says, “and you’re fucking my best friend?”

epi-epilogue

The Best Buy employee doesn’t ask questions when you and Jungkook go in to get your cracked phone screens repaired. He does, however, give Jungkook an over-exuberant sales pitch on a brand new line of computer monitors that are almost as big as the television at your house.

You try to save him from the dangerous hands of capitalism, but the Hello Kitty bandaids decorating your neck are itchy, the skin still so tender, so sometimes it’s wiser to let him waste his money than argue otherwise.

“Good girl,” Jungkook says as he swings your arms back and forth on your walk to the car, impressed by the fact you didn’t argue with him in a Best Buy today. “My perceptions and understanding of you in my life make me happy,” he beams, too smiley as he unlocks the doors.

“Shut up,” you glare, painfully tearing the stupid bandaids off your neck as soon as you get in, brandishing the blossoming hickeys Jungkook had so graciously given you last night. At the sight, he bites down a smile. “You’re about to perceive and understand these fists.”

And Jungkook smiles— he always smiles —as he leans over the center console to press his mouth against the darkened skin at the front of your neck, mindlessly rubbing his thumb over your promise ring. “Perceive this love,” he says, so cheesy it makes you gag.

“Goddd,” you groan, pushing him away before he can see the smile on your face. “Someone get this man a Viki deal.”

#networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader smut #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts smut #mine

4K notes · View notes

talesofarcadia78 · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! 😄 Can I request a fluffy oneshot with prompts: “And I love, I love, I love you.” and [a gentle “I love you too” whispered after a soft kiss, followed immediately by a stronger kiss] about Douxie attempts to confess his romantic feelings to shy!female!human! reader and he end up super flustered, but its okay because she thinks it's cute? Hint: She has romantic feelings for Douxie too! I live for flustered Douxie! 💖 Please?? ~🌼

A/n: Special thanks to @itsgabby.2021 for helping!

Confession || One shot

The wind picked up, letting out a quiet whistle. The leaves on the trees had started to change it's colours from the bright green to a warm orange. You wrapped your scarf around your neck and tugged on your jumper, attempting to get warmer.

You continued your way down the path to work.

The smell of coffee instantly hit you as soon as you opened the door of your beloved GDT Arcane Books. You hung your tote bag on one of the hangers next to the entrance.

"Good morning, Y/n!" a chipper voice called from the second floor of the store.

"Good morning, Douxie!" you called back.

You walked over to Douxie's cat, Archie, who was enjoying the morning sun by a window. You pat Archie on his exposed stomach, earning a purr before making your way over to the register.

You had been working at the bookstore for only a month but you felt like that you've been working there forever. Douxie was in urgent need of an employee as his last one had left the state with his wife. He had hung posters all over town, handing any passing person his business card and making calls to his friends to spread the word. Luckily, you had just moved from Europe to the small, quaint town, Arcadia, desperately needing a job.

One day, you were walking around in town, when you noticed a poster saying that GDT Arcane Books was hiring. You rushed over to the store to get interviewed. You were honestly expecting an ageing women/man to be the owner. But it turned out to be your pen pal, Hisirdoux Casperan. He was very happy to meet you in person after years of communicating through letters. He immediately gave you the job, no interview needed, since he knew practically everything about you and vice versa.

After a couple of days of working at the store, you had started to admire Douxie more than just a friend. You had developed a crush on him, which slowly turned into love. But, you knew that Douxie would never feel the same way, so you keep your mouth shut. You were happy with what you had and didn't want to ruin it by blurting out your feelings.

Little did you know, Douxie felt the same way for you.

The offer had been placed to stay at Douxie's place, knowing that you were new in town. But you politely declined, since you were already staying at a pink haired witch's apartment named Zoe Ashildr.

Turns out, Zoe and Douxie knew each other as fellow wizards. Douxie trusted Zoe to keep you safe and kept you company whenever he couldn't.

Back to the present, Douxie came down the stairs with two cups of coffee in each hand, whilst using his telekinesis floated empty boxes behind him.

"Here's a cup of coffee for a lovely lady," Douxie winked as he set a cup on the register as you were counting a new shipment of books.

"Thanks, Doux!" you called, keeping your self distracted as your cheeks had turned a crimson red from his comment.

+ + + + + +

You went to the back, needing to refill a few shelves with new novels.

Almost there…

Your fingers lightly brushed the book you wanted, but you failed to grab it.

You tried again, standing on your tip toes, even though you were on a ladder, you took the risk. This time you successfully got the novel but your foot slipped off of the ladder.

"Douxie!"

Douxie was walking to the back, wondering why you were taking so long, when he heard his name getting yelled by none other than you.

He rushed into the back room to see you falling from a dangerous height.

"Magna tawna truess!" Douxie incanted.

A sky blue aura surrounded you, saving you from the fall. You slowly got placed on the ground.

"You alright?" Douxie asked, frantically looking over you for any injuries.

"I-I'm alright Douxie," you replied.

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Whenever you need to get something from that height, just ask me, okay?"

You nodded in response.

+ + + + + +

You handed the book to the petit, old lady, who gave you some cash, along with a tip, before she headed out of the store.

“Time to close up shop,” Douxie stated, coming out from the back room.

“Finally! It’s been a long day,” you replied, stretching.

Douxie laughed at your antics.

“Get some rest, Y/n,” he smiled, heading to the front door and holding it open for you.

“Thanks, Doux. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said as you walked past him, “I-- ummm… Bye.”

“Yes. Bye, love. See you tomorrow,” he chuckled.

You made your way to you and Zoe’s shared apartment.

You couldn’t help but fluster yourself as thoughts of Douxie ran through your mind.

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your destination, Zoe ready to greet you.

“Hey, Y/n!” Zoe called, leaning on the doorframe, “How was work?”

“Oh, y’know… same-same,” you answered as you entered the abode.

“I forgot to mention this earlier! Douxie’s coming over for dinner!” she hollered from her spot in the kitchen as if she didn’t expect a reaction out of you.

“W-w-what?!” you sputtered, spitting out the drink that was in your mouth.

“Yeah! He should be here at 7!”

You looked at the time.

6:45…

“But… that’s… t-that’s in 15 minutes!” you cried as you ran to your room and rummaged through your clothes for something to wear.

“Well, you better hurry!” she snickered, playfully rolling her eyes.

After rummaging through your wardrobe, you finally found (you choose what you want to wear, rather than the usual plain white shirt and black pants.

Abruptly, you heard the door bell rang.

Oh no… Douxie's here.

You scrambled out of your room and into the main room to see Zoe standing in the doorway, greeting Douxie. He walked inside and spotted you.

"Hey, Y/n!" Douxie waved.

"H-Hi Douxie," you said, “W-what a nice surprise…”

“Indeed. I thought dinner was cancelled when you left work, but Zoe reminded me,” he informed.

You all sat down at the dining table, Zoe serving you your meals.

Zoe and Douxie talked over dinner, exchanging quips and banters.

You just sat there with your mouth shut, afraid of saying something embarrassing in front of Douxie.

After dinner, you tidied up the table, carrying the dishes to the sink.

“Hey! We should get some dessert! How does ice cream sound?” Zoe asked.

You and Douxie exchanged excited glances and nodded in agreement.

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

“Great! Let’s go!” Zoe exclaimed, ushering you and Douxie out the door.

+ + + + + +

You all were enjoying your ice cream at the Bluff, as you all had found the ice cream truck there. Douxie and you were sitting on the bench that was provided, while Zoe was sitting crossed-legged on the ground.

You were showing Douxie all the constellations, pointing each one out to him. He was amazed by all of your knowledge on just stars and space. Douxie knew you had an interest in a lot of things, cooking, art, sport, space, and a whole other stuff. Now, he knows you also take an interest in constellations.

Suddenly, someone's phone began ringing. Zoe noticed it was hers and picked it up.

By the way Zoe's expression turned from happy and cheerful from stressed and worried, you could tell, something was wrong.

She hung up and jumped to her feet.

"Sorry, guys. I have to go. There's a problem at Hex Tech," Zoe explained. "Bye!"

She rushed off before either you or Douxie could say anything.

You both looked at each other and shrugged before going back to constellations.

+ + + + +

Now, you two were just gazing at the stars. Douxie was in deep thought.

He had fallen in love with you in the few months he had started to write letters to you. He had only seen you through a photo that you had attached of yourself in the second letter to him, but he also got to know you through the letters. You had poured your heart into those letters, telling him everything and anything. Douxie had done the same.

He wanted to confess to you so badly! Douxie had planned to confess his feelings a few days ago, though it didn't turn out so great.

Douxie had taken you out to lovely restaurant for dinner. Everything was going according to his plan, your hands were in his as he was going to say everything, when the waiter came and interrupted. And for what? The damn bill!

You being you, took out your card to pay. Douxie wouldn't allow that. So, you two started to argue over who was going to pay the bill. Douxie ended up paying, as he planned the dinner for you.

He tried again outside of the restaurant, where there would be no interruptions. Well, that's what he thought.

You had to go to a friend’s house just after the dinner, so they decided to pick you up. Douxie had no idea about this.

Again, he was going to confess, when a car pulled up beside you two, telling you to hop in.

You apologised and headed off.

After you were gone, Douxie kicked the ground and headed to his house.

Defeated.

+ + + + + +

As you were looking up at the night sky, star gazing, Douxie was gazing at you.

He had made up his mind. He was going to tell you. Everything. Right then and there.

"Uh… Y/n? I-- uh… I wanted to tell you something," Douxie spoke up.

You turned your attention to him, "Yeah?"

Douxie took your hands in his, which made you blush a little.

"Okay, here goes nothing. Y/n… ever since I saw you-- I mean… wrote to you… Well, after I got to know you through writing letters-- through the letters, I started to look at you differently. Not in a weird way! Just more than a friend? Then, when I saw you for the first time in Arcadia, before you came to the shop. I was shocked, like I was surprised that you were in Arcadia. It's not a bad thing! I thought you lived in Europe, but turns out you moved. Anyways, I started to admire you than more a friend. I've gotten to know so much about you over the past month. So, all I want to say is that… I love you…" Douxie stammered.

You giggled at his stammering and flustered state.

He is so adorable.

Douxie took a deep breath before he repeated, "I love you." He stared into your eyes before he pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you softly as you kissed back. You both pulled away, keeping your foreheads touching.

"I love you, too," you whispered.

Douxie's eyes lit up like a child before he pulled you into another kiss, though this time, it was more stronger than the first.

You both pulled away for air just as you heard a click.

You turned your head to the source, to see a pink-haired witch standing there with her phone out, clearly taking pictures.

"Aww! You two are so cute!" Zoe cooed.

You furiously blushed and buried your face into Douxie's chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Zoe Ashildr!"

Word Count: 1,900

118 notes · View notes

planet4546b · 3 years ago

Note

hello i would like to hear more about technology in s/n. i know it’s primarily radio tech (?) but i want details. u know the drill

Ok hiiiiiiiiiii I literally completely rewrote this at least 5 times I <3 weird technology but it is SO hard to develop when you also have no idea how technology works. And once again this is crazy long but omg am I having fun

So the fun thing about technology in this world is that in the process of rebuilding technology and technological knowledge after the resonance, they were able to use both modern day, familiar technologies to us and completely new technologies from other worlds to base their knowledge off of. So like, someone’s taking apart an old rusted apart car engine to figure out how to rebuild an engine, and someone else 15 miles away is doing the same thing with a car that looks like it’s from the 1800’s and runs on hard light and is flotsam from another universe. So while a good chunk of technology looks relatively similar to sort of early/mid 1900’s technology, technology varies WILDLY from city to city, and some of it looks completely and utterly unrecognizable.

Backstay is probably the best example of this! Backstay is an entire city that was originally from another dimension and while it’s now completely integrated into this world, much of it is at it’s core sort of deeply weird. Backstay is ALSO (arguably) one of the most technologically advanced cities on the east coast (the cities on the west coast are Doing Some Shit. we’ll get there) - they’re very much an industrial city, with factory manufacturing and electric light and electric trollies and the early stages of computing, etc etc. They’re also powered by probability engines that create power through manipulating quantum uncertainty on large scales that are guarded by a religious order. So. That’s the general vibe of a lot of their technology - it looks like a lot of brick and steel and steampunk bullshit, but you peel back one layer of all of that and the underlying machinery is just bizarre.

Backstay also is doing a lot of making this tech very available - their current sovereign is trying to make up for the previous sovereigns warmongering across the continent, and is like uhhhh here lemme build some power relays so you can have some of our power and also we’re gonna build the first train system. Do you want our lightbulb technology. Except most other places on the map have, pretty independently, worked out their own technologies (to various different degrees - Staple has a decent amount of space around them for larger scale architecture, so they may have farm equipment that uses engines while Oiler’s pass doesn’t particularly have engines but does have a more robust communication system, you know?). Electricity, the beginnings of digital technology, radio as the primary form of communication, intra-city transport of some kind (99% of inter-city travel is still just horses or by foot, it’s easiest with how travel works), food preservation, decent medical technology (important note: i dont know how medical stuff works, but i do know that part of the reason emily moved to staple is because hrt was available there. so), non-automatic firearms, and advanced building materials (concrete, steel, etc) are preeeetty common across the board, they just look slightly different in each place and are used in diff ways etc. Also, now that in the past 75ish years regular travel + communication between the cities has been established, technology is shared between them pretty reliably. While I can’t completely describe how the tech in each of the cities works 100%, I can give some vague sort of visual touchstones that I’m thinking about while designing tech from each city:

As previously mentioned, Backstay is a lot of steampunk, and…weird steampunk at that. Just bc I think it’s cool, I think the probability engines look like neutrino detectors in some way (as much as I <3 Kamiokande, I think it’s probably the Sudbury neutrino observatory)

Oiler’s pass has a focus on sort of trade knowledge + trade knowledge that’s passed on as oral traditions within families. Their tech is still mostly handmade, and is made to be easily repaired and a lot of it ends up looking kinda patchwork.

Loom actually has most/all of their tech imported, from Backstay and Oiler’s mostly. They have a similar focus on sort of trade knowledge in families, but tech made in Loom tends to be made of sort of weird materials (Girl How Did You Make A Circuitboard Out Of Wood.)

Stitch + Staple have an aesthetic that sort of combines the technological and the ritual - there’s a lot of ceramic and metal wires and little charms tied onto radio antennas - ESPECIALLY in the crossing across the suture (I thiiiink this crossing is in part managed by a religious group, but I haven’t decided yet). Some of yao yao’s older character designs were def on the mind for this style.

I don’t talk about the cities on the west coast a lot because they’re 1. not plot relevant (except for in pepper’s ghost) and 2. WEIRDOS but talking about their technology is fun, so really quick update on them: the gloaming protectorate is originated in a group of people who lied about being from another world after finding tech from that world - their tech today is a lot of crystal, glass, and sandstone, and they have some weird fantasy vibes going so they’ve really merged the mythic and the technological. Triad has been living underground for centuries, so 99% of their technology hasn't changed too much since the resonance, but has been specialized in batshit ways (they also have a lot of really unique things the rest of the world doesnt particularly need, like hydroponics technology and water recycling and a sort of cobbled together wifi to send messages across the city). Decade (my friend and bestie decade) is focused on architecture to an absurd degree, so they have like, incredible building technologies, but not well developed agricultural tech or medicine or weapons etc. They also have what’s probably one of this world’s first computers - it’s a warehouse-sized construction made of etched glass that spits out architectural plans that only make like, some sense, and it can’t do anything else, but it’s still pretty sick.

One final note: Sam has a whole little arsenal of technology she carries around with her that’s all COMPLETELY handmade, most of it from bits of her spire station. She’s got advanced portable radios, a handful of recording devices, quantum detection gear, etc etc, and spends a lot of time sort of fiddling with it and fixing it in the background. A lot of the sort of detection/observation tech that Mel uses that’s more typical of travelers in this world is almost completely analog in fun ways, so to everyone else Sam essentially has like, a tricorder. Lmao.

Anyways WOW this took me forever but also holy shit thinking of this was so fun and its still rattling around in my head. I think I’m gonna do a bunch of tech concept sketches when I get around to it bc I have Ideas now so thank you ilu!!!! muah muah muah

#asks #cherrytries #signal to noise #im so sorry this took me a week bestie i went OH SHIT TECHNOLOGY. and then kept getting lost on wikipedia rabbit holes #for like. the history of firearms. hkgjldsalgkjdsag #anyways im now having fun coming up w some concrete tech concepts in my sketchbook so #ough i thought i had one more side note but now im blanking gjkldsag

9 notes · View notes

adamarinayu · 4 years ago

Text

Since I can’t draw right now (it’s like 1 AM) I decided I’d just write things down about Domestic DUno AU (I still don’t have a proper name for it!!) so here we go~

Info below the cut to spare the mobile users my ramblings~~

BACKSTORY STUFF

-Donald first became PK as a teenager (14 or 15), pulling petty pranks and avenging perceived wrongdoings. He ended up accidentally becoming a hero after stopping a thief and unknowingly saving a young girl’s life, and he realized he could direct his temper, anger and frustration not at making other people miserable, but at protecting others. Gyro, who went to school with Donald (Donald and Della attended a private school that would accommodate their adventure schedule; Gyro, being the absolute genius he is, attended on a scholarship) was there and ended up helping, being the one to inadvertently provide PK with the weapon he fended off the criminals with. PK talked to Gyro and the two became partners in crime-fighting that way.

-After deciding to become a hero, it was small-town villains mostly that he dealt with. Thieves, and the like. He didn’t start fighting mutants and those kinds of things until he was 17 or so, and the Evronians didn’t show up until he was 18. This is when Scrooge gave him a summer job at his newly acquired tower, figuring since Donald didn’t want to go with him and Della on a three-month adventure (as Donald was needed in Duckburg, he couldn’t be gone for three months!!) then he may as well work and earn a little money. As Duckworth was still alive, Duckworth was in charge of the manor, so Donald didn’t need to worry about upkeeping the mansion.

-Donald met Uno after a failed attempt to fight the Evronians, and they partnered up, with Uno providing Donald with otherworldly advanced tech that Gyro... would probably understand if given the time and chance (come on, he built a time machine out of a bathtub, he could totally understand future tech). After the first battle with the Evronians that Donald eventually wins, he realized that the game had just just 10x more dangerous. Between working on his doctorate and interning for Scrooge’s science department (something the scientists working for Scrooge were salty about), Gyro didn’t have much time to work on new and improved inventions for PK so when Uno contacted Gyro about him stepping down from helping PK, Gyro agreed, acknowledging that the mysterious Uno Ducklair would probably be a better benefactor for the hero. He didn’t know PK’s identity, though, so he didn’t take the memory erasing candy. Instead he focused on his work.

-Years passed this way, with Donald and Uno working together. Of course Donald had his other adventures, such as with Jose and Panchito and Mickey and all them lovely folks, but Uno was his closest confidante and biggest supporter. He was the one he vented his frustrations with Della and Scrooge to, and the one to give him advice on how to deal with it and talk to them about it all.

-At some point during this time, Gladstone finds out Donald is PK. Of course it happens in the typical Lucky way- him finding out saved Donald’s life. Gladstone is shaken up by the knowledge that his cousin/brother is in danger every day and has almost died multiple times. Gladstone becomes a sort of third member of the whole Crime Fighting thing, yep, you heard it right, Cloverleaf is real here. He figures if he’s out in the field with Donald, then Donald will never die because of Gladstone’s supernaturally good luck. Uno, while frustrated with Gladstone’s unpredictable and illogical luck, accepts this. Donald is less keen because he doesn’t want Gladstone in danger’s path but when the gander makes up his mind it’s made up, yo.

-PK and Cloverleaf (CL from here on out) and Uno work together for 3 years before the Spear of Selene incident, where Donald is suddenly left with three eggs. Donald’s priorities now shifted, he quits being a hero and buys the houseboat so he can raise the triplets without Scrooge’s influence. Gladstone does what he can to help while trying to continue to protect Duckburg, and while watching CL on the news Donald has the sudden realization that Duckburg still needs him- new parent or not. So he (metaphorically!!) throws the eggs into their pram, rushes to Ducklair Tower, begs Lyla to watch the eggs for him and rushes off to CL’s aid.

-After the danger is over, Donald collects the eggs, thanks Lyla for her help, then meets up with CL and Uno on the 151st floor where they have a serious conversation. Donald acknowledges that Duckburg still needs PK, but Della’s children also need him. The three eventually come to the conclusion that the kids would be raised by PK and Uno there in the Tower, where they would be safe- and they would be trained so they’re ready for anything thrown at them. (Gladstone is actually the one who is like “nah cuz you be their dad I’m not cut out for that, I’ll be the cool uncle, I don’t wanna live in the tower! No offense Uno” so it isn’t like Donald just decided to leave him out of the parenting)

-The eggs hatch and Donald names them sensible (AKA not Della’s list) names (and pronounces Llewellyn correctly dammit) and Donald and Uno have a time learning hands-on how to be parents. (“I’ve read twenty different parenting guides in the last five seconds and they’re all saying different things, Donald, WHAT DO WE DO-”) The whole “raising kids together” thing brings them even closer than before and forces them to have a chat about their feelings, too.

-When the triplets are small and starting to run around, Uno baby proofs everything. He has a hard time keeping them from escaping their playpen (which is essentially a huge room with an amazing view of the city, he doesn’t know why they’re so intent on escaping). Then eventually the inevitable happens- both Don and Glad end up stuck on the other side of the world for nearly a whole month, and Uno realizes taking care of three toddlers is much easier when you have a body. So while they’re gone, he balances his time between advising them on their mission, taking care of the triplets and building an android body that can handle an AI as advanced as him (throw out that “an AI who is only good could never make a full person” shit cuz Uno can be petty as hell, he’s a whole ass person even without Due yo). By the time Don and Glad get back he’s testing his prototype. Donald is thrilled, of course- his boyfriend has a body now!

-The triplets gain a sister! Everett brings a child to them one day, a little Coronan girl who was for reasons I haven’t decided yet cast out of her family and Everett, with his weird Enlightened Powers shit, went and found her and brought her back to the people he knew would take care of her well (considering his own past failures...). And so the triplets have a little sister who is an alien! Yee! Yes it’s Asveya (Ve). She came to them when she was ~2 and the triplets were 3 or 4, and as she didn’t have a name Donald named her after a friend he met as a child, when he regularly adventured with Scrooge and Della, and whom he ended up meeting again as a young adult.

-Uno perfects the body over time as he learns more things about being a person (he very purposefully leaves out pain receptors, though he includes the best parts of being a physical person ofc- he wants his cake and he wants to eat it too!). Everett decides now that Uno has a body, it was time to introduce him as his son officially and hand the business over to him (stating that it’ll be good for the kids if at least one of their parents had a proper job and income, since savings don’t last forever), and as the kids get older Donald begins training them so they’ll be able to take care of/protect themselves if need be. Uno creates a training field/obstacle course that is fun and age-appropriate, and by the time they’re ten they’re like little superheroes in training. They can give Webby a run for her money. Ve is less interested in being like PK and more interested in being like Uno- AKA the techie behind the gadgets.

-The triplets are already playing with some rudimentary pieces of tech Ve made, playing like they’re superheroes (or villains, gotta have someone to fight!). Uno finds out when he reviews the Tower footage and immediately confiscates anything that can be dangerous, but lets them keep the more innocent stuff.

MODERN DAY STUFF (AKA the time the show takes place)

-As the kids got older Donald and Uno allowed them more freedom, even letting them go out on their own (with the promise of being back before dark, not telling anyone what their parents did for a living, they all stuck together and they didn’t speak to strangers beyond what was necessary). When the triplets were 10 and Ve was 8 or 9, Uno learned that a powerful artifact (not the gem) was in Atlantis and that if a villain got their hands on it, it would be... very bad. So Donald decides it’s time to put on his metaphorical adventure shoes again and go get it. By this time Gladstone got trapped in the casino (Uno has been looking for him, after not hearing from him for over a week) and Uno had a Big Business thing to attend, real important too, so they talk about getting a babysitter for the weekend they’ll be gone. The kids manage to convince them they don’t need one, as they’ll be safe in the 151st floor (“We’ll be safer there than anywhere else, right, Uncle Uno?”). Donald tried to call Lyla but she was unfortunately in the field, so he agreed to let them stay home on their own until Uno got back (Uno did the math and figured he could stay for a few hours to just make a good faith appearance, talk business with some stooges and then come home the same day).

-Of course, the kids get caught. Uno had already left out for his business thing at like 5 AM, and Donald was about to head out to Atlantis in one of the Duckmobiles. He happened to check on a whim the back of the mobile, where he found his surprised ducklings staring wide-eyed up at him. He knew then that he needed to cash in on a favour- he called Beakley and then drove the protesting children to the mansion. (“Come on, Unca’ Donald!” “It’s a mansion! We wanna go to the lost city, too!” “Come on, we’ve been doing real good in training!” “Please, dad? We promise we’ll listen!”) The excitement over meeting THE Scrooge McDuck is overshadowed by the disappointment that they can’t go on this mission.

-Besides, who cares about a mansion and a rich adventuring duck when your parents and uncle are not only rich adventurers, but they’re also superheroes???

-Donald gives them a forehead kiss goodbye and heads off, and Scrooge has Beakley put the kids in that old room. “It’ll only be a few hours” they said. “Until Uno gets back.” Unfortunately, Uno calls Louie and tells the duckling there’s been a problem and he won’t be back until later- Donald already informed him of the changed arrangements and he’s already contacted Beakley.

-The kids decide to escape the old room, putting their hero training into action, but are ultimately swept up into Webby’s trap. Webby is super excited to meet them when she realizes who they are (though she has no idea who Ve is), and she cuts them down from the net without them having to escape themselves. The kids know they’re not supposed to let anyone know about the “hero family” thing so try to act like normal kids, though it becomes apparent Webby doesn’t know how to be a normal kid either.

-Through shenanigans, the children inspire Scrooge to adventure again, and Dewey lets slip about lost cities and Scrooge has a moment of realization. Thus, he drags the kids to Atlantis with him. While there, the kids each get a chance to show off their moves (which they’re SUPPOSED TO HIDE but you know, when arrows are flying at you ain’t got no time to hide). Donald is pissed when he notices them in Atlantis, and Uno is pissed when he calls Donald and learns the kids are in Atlantis, right where they are NOT supposed to be.

-Things pretty much follow the episode, though with the triplets able to hold their own and Donald gunning for a completely different artifact. When they escape and get back to the surface with their respective artifacts, they’re met by a livid android who absolutely chews Scrooge out for dragging four ten year olds and an eight year old to a dangerous place like that.

-Donald decides that it might be okay for the kids to visit with Scrooge sometimes, to get a little real-world experience, and at precisely that moment something crashes into the 151st floor of Ducklair Tower. Uno is absolutely furious (“MY TOWER???”) cuz that’s gonna take a bit to fix- at the very least it’ll appear to take a while- and when the kids question “what now?” Scrooge offers up some rooms in the mansion. The kids are excited cuz they’ll get to live with Webby and explore a new place. Donald and Uno say “just until the tower is fixed” (Gladstone had Donald’s boat at the time he went missing so Donald doesn’t have it) which is good enough for the kids.

-Scrooge being sus of Uno for like a whole arc cuz he’d never heard of Uno Ducklair before recently and also his nephew?? got married???

-Gladstone finally gets a message out to Don and Uno for help, and they go immediately- but not before Scrooge makes it a family adventure. Scrooge is disparaging of Gladstone, but Donald is just worried about his cousin. They manage to save Gladstone without pseudo-sacrificing anyone. Scrooge gets a little sus when they get back to Duckburg, and days later the missing Cloverleaf has shown up again.

-HDLV ended up spilling the truth to Webby as she got closer with them, but they swore her to secrecy. Of course Beakley found out because Webby is a terrible liar.

**So basically Donald + Uno parents, a kid that calls them her dads, good Uncle Gladstone, Brotherly Gladstone + Donald, Competent Cloverleaf, PK + Cloverleaf teamup, little-hero triplets. Gyro will end up teaming up with Gizmoduck when Fenton takes up heroing, too, just like Launchpad teams up with DW (DW’s story for this AU will be different, also, just a heads up) and basically all their combined kids become a badass team of children (Huey, Dewey, Louie, Webby, Ve, Boyd, Gos, and of course Lena and Violet join in later...) Gyro teams up with Gizmoduck because every hero needs a tech guy (even heroes who are also scientists....) and he’s not only very capable, he’s worked with a hero before so he knows the ins and outs :D

However it is now 2 AM and I need to sleep so I’m gonna end my musings here but I am thinking of them so much right now I’m

#Domestic DUno AU #I still need a proper title for it #DT17 AU #PK AU #DUno #I miiiight add some Drakepad and Fenro.......#I'm a sucker for hero/sidekick pairings #Also featuring science family!#I like Gandra I really do but the hero/sidekick mannn #I mean Fenton had two hands so maybe.................

113 notes · View notes

cherrybracelets · 5 years ago

Text

til the end of time

spencer reid x fem!reader / bau x platonic!reader

word count: 5.1k | warnings: typical cm violence, pregnancy and childbirth mention. other than that, all fluff and corniness

an: this is super stupid and corny; just sometbing i threw together !! i also wrote a lot of this on my phone if there’s typos don’t @ me

You had been imagining the day of your wedding since you were 12 years old, and attended your Aunt Maria’s wedding. It was the first wedding you had ever been too, and it was so much fun. Well, looking back, it was actually a very cheesy and poorly thrown together party in a cheap hotel, but at the time you were amazed.

You have attended quite a few weddings since then, much that were way nicer than Maria’s. Every one you went to, you gathered more and more ideas for what you wanted to do on your own big day (when the time came, of course.) You knew you wanted white roses in the centerpieces, vanilla raspberry cake was a must, and your dream venue was saved a thousand times on your Pinterest boards.

But, nothing ever goes as planned, right? When you started planning your wedding with Spencer, you know you would have to sacrifice a few of your ideas that weren’t exactly plausible. But you never in a million years thought you would be here.

It all started about a week ago, back in the lovely conference room of the BAU. You and Spencer sat next to each other, whispering away about wedding and honeymoon plans, the rest of the team scattering in and preparing to hear about a new case.

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do if my Uncle Mike brings his girlfriend…” you frowned, your stomach doing flips as you stressed more and more about the big day.

“Just have your mom call him and talk to him, he’ll listen to her,” Spencer assured you, squeezing your hand tightly, trying to pull all of your stress away. He hated how much anxiety all of this was bringing you. For him, your wedding was the brightest day of his future, it was all he could think about. And you felt the same, of course, but the planning was exhausting.

“Sorry to bring everyone in again, I know we’ve barely been on the ground a day, but we have a weird one today. Garcia,” Hotch motioned to the tech analyst, who smiled happily as she stood up and began her presentation.

“So, my friends, we are going to Spencer’s favorite place, Las Vegas!” She giggled, trying to bring lightness into a place that had seen so many horrors.

“Oh! I’ll have to call my mom!” Spencer smiled, always excited at any chance to see his mother.

“Let’s focus on getting this creep, first,” Garcia shuttered, pulling up multiple photos of dead bodies on the screen. “These are the two victims that we know of, Jenna Benson and Evan Perry.”

“What was the cause of death?” Morgan asked.

“Gunshot to the head. But, there are two ante mortem shots on each of the victim, one in the leg and one in the… nether regions,” Garcia shuttered, pulling up more pictures of the injuries on the bodies.

“Genital mutilation, that’s a statement,” you responded.

“And it was done before he killed them, so it’s definetly torture.”

“Do you think he could be trying to extort information? One bullet each time you don’t get a question right? You have three strikes to get it right?” JJ suggested.

“I don’t know, but these bodies were only killed a few hours apart, and chances are he’s already moved on to his next victim. Wheels up in 30.”

The group began to dismiss, Spencer’s hand still locked in yours as you left and went back to your desks.

“I’m gonna go grab our bags from the car and call my mom, you’ll be okay for a few minutes?” Spencer questioned, his eyes wide as he awaited your response.

“Yes, I’ll be fine on my own, Spence,” you giggled, rolling your eyes as you turned towards him and back at your desk, mixing thoughts of your big day and the big case racing through your mind.

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

The plane ride was long, going backwards in time to reach the opposite coast always took a while. The team spoke for a bit about the case, before saying all that could be said and separating into their own comfort. You and Spencer sat close in the chairs, your head resting on his shoulder as he flipped through some case files.

Garcia had popped in earlier with the knowledge that the victims attended high school together, making these killings seem a lot less random.

“Jenna was a freshman when Evan was a senior, it’s probably unlikely they knew each other,” Spencer whispered to you, his brows furrowed as he tried to uncover something between the lines.

“I knew a lot of seniors when I was a freshman,” you shrugged, dismissing his theory.

“Yeah, but you went to a small school, everybody knew everyone. Vegas high schools aren’t like that,” he responded sharply, his knowledge of his hometown showing through.

You decided to let Spencer think silently; he tended to work best that way. You shut your eyes for a bit, only waking back up to feel the plane descending.

You didn’t know how you had managed to let time pass away like that, but the stress of everything must have been wearing you down. Spencer had fallen asleep too, his groggy eyes reopening as the plane hit the ground.

Hotch had already given you your assignments, you and JJ off to the second crime scene, which happened to be Evan’s house. The cars were there when you walked off the plane, and an extra car tasked with delivering your luggage to the hotel you probably wouldn’t have a chance to go to.

As you landed, Hotch took a quick phone call, his face making that familiar look when something happened.

“Another body?” Emily asked as he hung up the phone.

“Two. Let’s all go back to the station, for now. We need to sit down and go over everything. If he’s working this quickly, this is a spree. And we have a lot less time than we thought.”

“I’ll let the Detective know,” Rossi nodded, walking towards the car and hopping in the driver's seat. The rest of the team followed, you and Spencer walking side by side to the car that Derek had claimed as his.

“Glad I took that little nap on the plane, doesn’t seem like we’ll be sleeping for the next 48 hours,” you giggled, getting in the back seat of the SUV.

“Probably 72, if we’re being realistic,” Spencer teased, getting in the passenger's seat. He always got in the passenger's seat when the two of you were in the car with one other person. You never questioned it, but one day he let it slip that he just didn’t want the person in the front to be lonely.

You got to the Field Office about twenty minutes later, partially thanks to Derek’s driving. As the rest of the team continued to arrive, the three of you walked into the building to begin your work. You greeted the Agents and Detectives, avoiding small talk as you knew the urgency of this case. Luckily they had a room and boards all set up for you guys. Spencer and Derek began hanging evidence on the boards, as you called Garcia to get an update on your latest victims.

“Hey baby girl, what do you have for us?” Derek flirted, while neatly hanging photos.

“The two vics were actually killed previous to our two victims. Not graduates of our high school, but! One of them is Jenna Benson’s mother, Cheryl. But I cannot find a connection to the other one.”

“Her mother? So there’s gotta be some dirt in that family. What can you find?” You asked, twirling a pen in your fingers.

“I’m looking, but I can’t find much. Cheryl’s husband and Jenna’s dad, Clint, apparently left them when she was 15. Filed for divorce and just left. Other than that, they look pretty normal.”

“What about hospital records, medical stuff? Are there signs of abuse?” Derek asked.

Your phone started ringing loudly on the desk, which you quickly declined and put in your pocket.

“Sorry, go on Garcia,” you apologized, uncomfortably shoving your phone in your jacket pocket.

“Doesn’t appear so… oh, woah. This is odd.”

“What did you find, baby girl?”

“When Jenna was 14, she had a doctors appointment where they noted she was 6 months pregnant. And there’s no other documentation of it. No other ultrasounds, no birth or death certificate of said baby.” Garcia was clicking away, trying to find any trace of other evidence.

“What year was this?” You asked.

“1991.”

“So if the baby was born, they would be 29 now. Fits the profile of a spree killer,” Spencer shrugged.

“Yeah, but how is there no record of this child anywhere?”

“Children,” Garcia chimed in, her voice filled with dread.

“Come again?” Derek asked.

“According to her doctor, Jenna was pregnant with twins.”

At this point, the rest of the team had finally arrived, coming in just in time for the call. Garcia filled everyone in, each of you silently going over the facts. You tried your best to focus on the case, but your mind was still drudging over the details of your wedding. Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, and you were certain it was some vendor or family member trying to take your money or beg for a plus one. But you couldn’t think about that, not now. You had to be here, be present. You had to catch this man.

“I have another information bomb that is going to blow your minds,” Garcia chimed in, her voice in shock as she awaited permission to talk.

“What is it?”

“In 1992, Cheryl and Clint Benson deposited two sixty-thousand dollar cash deposits in the same week.”

“That’s about how much a baby would go for on the black market,” Spencer added, his fact bringing you all to the same conclusion.

“We have to find Clint Benson, he’ll be the only one that can help us,” Rossi said.

“Do you think he’ll cooperate? That’s super illegal, he might not indict himself,” Emily added.

“We can offer him some kind of deal. If our unsub is one of the children, he’s the only shot we have at finding him.”

“I’ll work on finding the dad. I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

The team split up into smaller conversations, your phone still vibrating violently in your pocket. Spencer walked up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“You doing alright, honey? You seemed distracted earlier…” he pouted, kissing the top of your head with ease, showcasing his clear difference in height from you.

“I’m just thinking about all the wedding stuff… it’s stupid,” you answered, shaking your head in defense. “It sure doesn’t help that my phone won't stop ringing!” You groaned, ripping it out of your pocket and slamming it down on the table. The team stopped what they were doing and looked towards you, but Spencer waived them away, as if to say, ‘I’m handing this, don’t worry.’

“I’ll answer, and take care of it whatever it is. You focus on the victims, see if we can find some more connections, okay.” Spencer gave you a reassuring kiss on the lips, holding your phone in his palm and walking out to the hallway to handle your never ending stress.

You turned towards the files, trying to take your finances advice and focus on the victims. You looked at the photos over and over, trying to see if there was something you missed. Something that would make this make more sense. And then you had a thought. Something that might make this make sense.

“What if he’s looking for the dad?” You shouted, hoping someone would be drawn to your thought.

“The two men have nothing in common,” Derek responded.

“No, no. I know. But, like…” you stuttered, trying your best to organize the words into your head so they would understand. “The old man is still an outlier. But this younger victim, Evan. He went to highschool with Jenna. What if all the information he had on his dad was he was a senior at her school. Maybe he had a picture, and he’s hunting guys who might be the one.”

“If he came face to face with his mom, though, why not just ask her directly? If he is shooting them to get information, why wouldn’t she give in?” Emily questioned.

You thought for a moment, but JJ came in with an answer before your brain could think of one. Thank god.

“Maybe she wanted to protect him.”

“How would he have gotten a picture of his supposed dad though? Why would she give him a picture and not a name?”

“We’re missing something here. And unfortunately the only way we’ll find it is with more victims,” Rossi said, crossing his arms in frustration.

“And there are. Two more bodies have been found, this time much more recent. Time of death is only two hours ago,” Spencer added, walking back in from the hallway.

“And identification on them yet?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, they’re sending their names to Garcia. It’s two more men, though. Roughly the same age as Evan. Same look as well, according to the Agent that told me.”

The phone in the middle of the table started ringing, a sign that Garcia had important information to fill your heads. Her voice always brought a kind of sweetness to your thoughts, making the whole room seem brighter.

“Garcia, what’s up?” Rossi asked her, awaiting the key to unlock this case.

“Two more victims both went to high school with Jenna. And they do look a lot alike…” Garcia said.

“Okay, can I state the obvious here. If these babies were sold, what are the chances either of them make it to 29? Most creeps buying infants don’t want them for longevity,” JJ shuttered, feeling sick at the words she was saying, but knew it needed to be discussed.

“Actually, an alarming amount of babies purchased illegally are bought by real parents looking for children to adopt. The adoption process is incredibly lengthy and difficult, and it’s even more difficult to find a newborn. A lot of… more affluent couples take this route.” Spencer nodded quietly after he spoke, something small you had always noticed about him. It was almost if he was reassuring himself that he did okay, that he said all he needed to say.

“So the only shot at finding either of these babies is through Jenna’s father,” Hotch sighed, realizing again that almost all cases came down to one cruical final piece. Clint Benson was your final piece.

“Lucky for you, Aaron Hotchner, I have found our man of the hour. Clint still lives in beautiful Las Vegas, only about fifteen minutes away from where you are now. Sending the home and work addresses as we speak,” Garcia teased, a few of you giggling as your phone’s received her information. Spencer handed you your cell back and smiled, kissing your forehead.

“I handled everything. No one will bother you again,” he assured, making you feel relaxed for the first time in weeks.

“Well, people can bother me a little, it’s still my wedding,” you teased, pushing Spencer slightly as he rolled his eyes and walked back towards Derek.

“I think we should bring Clint here versus ambushing him at home. He may not know about Jenna and Cheryl yet. It only hit the news cycle an hour ago, and they aren’t even releasing the identities,” JJ spoke, her motherly instinct always kicking in in times like these. She was right, as she usually was. It would be better to hear that kind of news here.

“Reid and Derek, go to his house. JJ and Rossi, go to his work. (Y/N) and Emily, stay here and start working on a profile based on what we have so far. Hopefully we can present something soon after we talk with Clint.” Hotch nodded at you all, making sure you all understood your tasks. You blew a kiss to Spencer as he walked out, feeling calmed by his quick smile before he was gone.

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Clint Benson was devastated when he heard the news of his wife and daughter. He still loved them both, but the guilt and shame of what happened was too much for him. According to Clint, the whole thing was his wife's idea. When she found out Jenna was pregnant at 14, she was heart broken. It was too late for an abortion, because they had only officially found out when she was six months.

“Cheryl was humiliated. Pulled her out of school, locked in her room. Didn’t want none of our friends to see her, to know what she did…” Clint sobbed, his voice tripping over itself.

“Which is why she never saw another doctor?” Hotch asked, carefully poking around for answers.

“Yeah… I kept trying to talk to her, ask her what we were going to do. Telling her Jenna needed to see a doctor. But Cheryl just said she was handing it, was taking care of all of it. I… didn’t know what to do. And then when Jenna went into labor, I begged Cheryl to take her to a hospital… but she wouldn’t. She barricaded herself in front of Jenna… until it was too late. She had them… right in her bedroom… a boy and a girl. They were so, so beautiful.” Clint was crying more, his words sounding more garbled with each passing second. You felt sick, horrible for the man.

Times like this made you wish for the distraction of the wedding. You tried picturing the suit you had planned for Spencer. The colors were perfect for him, and would match the rest of the theme perfectly. But then you remembered the guest list, and the caterer not having enough vegan options, and the open bar messing up your signature cocktail… And don’t even start with the DJ!

“Where are the babies now, Clint?” Hotch asked, his voice now rough and full of urgency.

“I… don’t know exactly. There wasn’t much information passed. Just names and cash.”

“What were the names?”

“Uh… the girl… she went to a couple named Ashley and Brian. The boy… Danielle and Andrew…” Clint mumbled, trying to remember more.

“Wait…” you whispered to yourself, something finally clicking in this case. You ran into the interrogation room, interrupting Hotch, much to his shock.

“Do you remember Andrew’s last name? Or what he looked like?”

“Uh… I think his last name started with an M… He had glasses. Does that help?”

“Hotch… our first victim was Andrew Masters.”

“Yes! Masters was his last name! Wait… victim? Did something happen to him? Is this connected to what happened to Cheryl and Jenna?”

You and Hotch looked at each other, a silent understanding between the two of you. You both knew what was happening here. Andrew Masters was killed by his own son. He was one of two babies given away by the Benson family that fateful evening. But why start murdering your family out of the blue? There was still something missing here.

“Have Garcia find out everything she can about Andrew’s son,” Hotch instructed, nodding you away as he readied himself to continue talking to Clint.

You ran into the hallway and called Garcia, looking around for Spencer, trying to tell him about the break in the case. Whenever either of you found something vital to the investigation, you always told each other immediately. You had done that since your first day on the team.

“What can I do for you, beautiful?” Garcia asked, distracting you from your thoughts about Spencer.

“Andrew Masters, our first victim, can you find anything on his son?”

“Uhh, sure. I can do that... what am I looking for exactly?” She questioned, still typing away madly in the background.

“We think he may be the unsub. Any triggers, any red flags?”

“Hmm, well here’s something. Up until two months ago, he was engaged. Can’t find a reason why it ended, but almost two months ago exactly they cancelled the venue, vendors, everything…”

“For no refunds, I’m sure,” you giggled, knowing well how the wedding industry worked. “What’s the ex fiance up to?”

“Well, she moved back in with her parents, Ashley and Brian, who look relatively normal…” Garcia responded.

“Wait, say that again. What were her parents' names?”

“Ashley and Brian Gregg.”

“Holy shit, Garcia. You’re a genius. Thank you!” You kissed loudly into the phone, hanging up the call and running towards the conference room. Everyone except Hotch was there, but you texted him to meet you in the conference room- that it was urgent.

“Guys, you will not believe this,” you finally said, after everyone arrived and was quiet enough to hear you. “Our first victim, Andrew, was the father of the son that Jenna gave away. Now, Jenna also gave away a daughter to another couple. Now, what are the odds of this. These two kids grow up, fall in love and get engaged. Talk about a trigger, finding out the love of your life is your secret twin.”

“You’re joking… evil twins again? Didn’t we already do this?” Emily laughed.

“It’s most likely just the guy. I’ll call Garcia and get her to send us everything she has on him. We gotta find this dude,” Derek instructed, leaving the room to speak to Garcia.

“How did they find out, though? Chances are the parents didn’t even know they were twins,” Rossi asked.

“Most likely not. Clint said the babies were picked up on different days.” Hotch added.

“It doesn’t matter how he found out, what matters is that he’s gonna kill a lot of people until he finds his ‘Dad’. He wants to punish anyone he thinks is involved in this crime.”

“We’ll put his picture out all over the media, and an APB on any vehicles he has. He won’t be able to hide for long. He has a mission, he’ll have to complete it.”

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Hotch, as usual, was right about the unsub. He did not stay in hiding for long. The police and FBI searched for six hours in his comfort zone, almost giving up hope, until he finally caved and came looking for another victim. JJ and Derek got to him first, trying to persuade him to drop his gun and come with them.

When it was finally all over, you felt equally ecstatic and exhausted. You couldn’t wait to crawl up onto a leather private jet chair and take an amazing nap. You were sad you didn’t get at least one night in the hotel. Something about hotels made Spencer get in a certain mood… even if you got a night away, there wasn’t much sleeping happening.

But you were grateful to be going home, at least until the next case popped up. You and Rossi were the only two that stayed back while the team went searching, wanting to be here in case any new bodies popped up. Rossi was wrapping up some paperwork with the other Agents out in the main room, and you paced back and forth in the conference room, hating the silence that was left when you were alone.

Rossi walked casually back to the conference room, and you could’ve sworn he had changed clothes. Maybe it was the extreme lack of sleep, but you could’ve sworn he didn’t look so… nice when he left the room.

“You ready to head to the airport? Everyone is gonna meet us there.” Rossi said, holding the door open for you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” you responded, slightly confused at why the team didn’t come back here first. They usually did. But, everyone was tired and there really was no need to come back, you and Rossi had taken care of everything you needed to do to leave.

You followed Rossi down to the car, making small talk as he got in the driver’s seat and began heading away. You had only ever been to Vegas on trips for work, so you’d never really seen much of the city. It didn’t help that every street looked almost identical. You felt lost as you stared out the window, wondering how a young Spencer Reid could’ve survived in this massive city.

“Oh, before we get there, I just have to make one quick stop,” Rossi said, turning the turn signal on and pulling to the side of the road.

“Oh, uh, right now?” You questioned, jolting up as he hastily parallel parked the car.

“Yeah, it’ll be real quick. But, this isn’t a great part of town, so maybe you should come in with me…” He instructed, turning the car off and waiting for your answer.

“Um… I think I’ll be okay, Dave.” You laughed, rolling your eyes and turning to look at your phone.

“I really think you should come with me.”

“Are you not gonna go unless I do?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine!” You rolled your eyes, opening the passenger door and getting out of the car. You stood on the sidewalk, standing angrily as you waited for Rossi to get out and walk to you.

“What are we even doing here-” you asked, turning around and getting smacked in the face with one of the cheesiest and most stereotypical Vegas chapels you had ever seen. Neon flashing lights, Elvis decor, cheap paint. It was amazing.

“Why the hell are we at a Chapel? Are Emily and JJ finally getting hitched?” You laughed, staring at disbelief at the building.

“Why don’t you just go inside…” Rossi instructed, waiting for you to enter the building so he could follow.

“Alright…” you responded, walking in the door and being immediately bombarded by JJ and Emily. They were in dresses, which made you even more confused.

“Come with us! You’ve gotta get ready!” JJ said, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you towards a door down the hallway.

“What is happening? Did we drink too many Margaritas at the taco place again…” you said, still being dragged against your will to a secret room.

And then you saw it. Emily opened the hideously pink painted door to a small dressing room, and in the middle was the single thing about your wedding that had gone right.

The dress. You found it a few months ago, and immediately knew it was the one. It was one of the first dresses you tried on, but you knew immediately it was the one for you.

“How did you… what is happening…”

“You’re gonna put the dress on, and then you’re gonna get married. That’s what's happening,” Emily shrugged, pushing you in the room.

“But… no… what about… and…” you stuttered, sitting down on the cigarette infused couch, the smell of stale smoke so strong it made you gag when you sat down.

“Okay, let’s not sit on that,” JJ laughed, pulling you up and away from the toxic furniture.

“I can’t get married. I’m not ready!” You protested, Emily stripping your clothes as you stood shocked.

“Just get in the dress, everything will be okay,” JJ assured you.

“No… I can’t…”

“Get in the dress, (Y/N), or I swear to God I will have to hurt you,” Emily joked, her eyes trying to be serious but a tiny smirk made it obvious.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

But then you put the dress on. And they were right. Everything made sense. You loved Spencer, and nothing mattered except marrying him, promising your life to him. The location, the guest list, the food… it didn’t matter. Your love mattered. He mattered.

“I’m ready,” you nodded, a few tears flowing down your cheek.

You walked out of the worst dressing room of all time, your dress dragging on the cheap shag carpet behind you. Emily handed you a bouquet of fake flowers, which made you and JJ laugh as you opened the doors to the chapel.

On the other end of a long red carpet was Spencer Reid, the one person you loved most in this world. He had on his suit, the one you designed in your head. You weren’t sure how he made it possible- you weren’t sure how he made any of this possible. But you couldn’t stop crying, a gush of hot tears flowing down your face as you walked anxiously down the aisle to your new forever.

“You are the most beautiful person in the world,” Spencer whispered to you, taking your hands as you reached the end of the aisle. JJ and Emily sat down next to the rest of the team, the only other guests in attendance. It was perfect, though. You couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love between (Y/N) and Spencer,” the man said. “Thank you all for coming to this beautiful celebration. Spencer and (Y/N) have decided to share their own vows.”

“Um, I don’t have my vows,” you sighed, looking around awkwardly at the crowd.

“Should’ve memorized 'em, like I did,” Spencer winked. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, lightly shoving Spencer on the arm.

“Do we need to do all this? I mean… I know you love me. I know I love you, and I hope you know that. I know that every small thing you do makes me fall more and more in love. And I can’t imagine any day of my life without you by my side. Can’t we just skip to the I do part and get married!” You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s waist and pulled him closer.

“I just want to say one thing before I kiss the bride. Nothing has mattered more to me than you since the moment we met. I would stop the world for you if I could. I wanted to do something to take away all your stress, and although I couldn’t do it perfectly, I think this is going pretty well.” Spencer smiled goofily at you, squeezing on your hand.

“Oh, the rings!” You squealed, looking around for the small box.

“Right here,” Derek smiled, handing the box to Spencer. “Best man duties.”

Spencer slipped the metal circle around your finger, his hands shaky as he slipped it on. You grabbed his ring from the box, putting it delicately on his hand, your heart racing, still unable to process what was happening.

“Is that it?” Spencer asked excitedly, looking up at the ordained Elvis, hoping to be married already.

“Well, I have to say one thing. I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your bride!”

Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He kissed you excitedly, his lips moving rapidly with yours.

tags: @gayprentiss @blakeprentiss @bitchyreid @spncersreid @yesimaunicorn @slutforthegubes

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction

188 notes · View notes

forestwater87 · 5 years ago

Note

How did you become a university Librarian? Did you do an English degree? Sorry if this is a weird question it just really interests me as I’m not sure what to do when I’m older

Eeee I got really excited about this question!

Okay, the fun thing about librarianship is that all roads can lead to it: as long as you get an ALA-approved (assuming you’re American; if you aren’t I cannot help you) graduate degree you can do just about anything for undergrad. English majors are extremely common, just by the nature of who’s into the job, but literally it doesn’t matter; in fact, weirder and more specialized degrees can actually help in certain jobs, because they give you a ton of background info and qualifications than most of your contemporaries have.

I fell into it because I worked at a library in high school and fell in love with the environment, and when I realized I’d rather die than work in publishing (my previous life’s goal) I gravitated toward library school. I knew from the beginning that I’d need a Master’s -- and a very specific one at that -- so mostly my undergrad was just “grab a foundational degree and have fun with it.” That was really freeing, honestly. I had a ton of fun in undergrad.

Now, if you, Anon, were interested in getting into librarianship I’d have a handful of recommendations. These are all based on my very American experience, and there are probably smarter people than me with better advice but I’m the only one on this blog so heeeeerrreeeee we goooooooooo!

Undergrad

You need a 4-year degree. Full-stop. It doesn’t matter what kind, but you gotta have one to get into grad school.

Like I said, you can do just about anything for an undergraduate degree. Most of the time English is the BA of choice, because librarians love them some books, but some far less common ones that I think would be hugely helpful to a hopeful librarian would be:

Computer Science: Oh my god you need at least a baseline competency in computers/technology please you don’t have to code but you need to be able to turn a computer on and navigate just about any website/office application on just about any device at the very least you need to know how to Google

Business/Marketing: Particularly if you want to work in public libraries, where a bunch of your funding comes from begging politicians and convincing taxpayers to donate/vote to give you money

Law: If you want to be a law librarian

Medical . . . whatever, I don’t know what fields of medicine there are: If you want to work in a hospital or other medical library

History or Art History: If you’re interested in archives or museum librarianship

Education: School librarians in my state require you to be a certified teacher, and no matter what kind of library you end up in, you’ll end up teaching someone something a decent amount of the time

Communications: You’ll be doing a lot of it. Public speaking, too

Spanish/ASL/any not-the-common language: Hey, you never know what your patrons speak

Literally fucking anything I promise it doesn’t matter what you major in you will use it in a library at some point

Just be aware that you will need more than an undergrad degree. You’ll need probably 2 years of postsecondary schooling (more for certain types of librarianship), so get yourself comfortable with the idea of college.

If you’re like me (please don’t be like me), you might toy with the idea of getting a minor or two/double majoring to round out your skill set. Honestly I’d encourage it if you’re comfortable with the workload and have the time or money; like I said, there are no skills or educational background that won’t come in handy at some point. I promise. We see it all.

Along those lines, a wide expanse of hobbies can be hugely helpful too! You never know when your encyclopedic knowledge of Minecraft will be useful to a patron, but it absolutely will be.

Graduate School

All right, you’ve got your lovely little Bachelor’s Degree, maybe in something weird and esoteric for the fun of it . . . now you’re off to do more school!

It’s a bit complicated, because there are a handful of different titles an appropriate degree could have; my school called it “a Master of Science in Information Science” (MSIS), but other schools might just go with “Master’s of Information Science” (MIS), “Master’s of Library Science” (MLS), “Master’s of Library and Information Science” (MLIS) . . . it’s a mess.

What you need to do is make sure the degree is approved by the American Library Association, who decides if a program is good enough to make you a librarian in the States. (Again, if you’re not American, good luck.)

Here’s a list of ALA-accredited programs and the schools that offer them.

The nice thing is accreditation has to be renewed at least every few years, so that means your program is always updated to make sure it’s in line with national standards. I’m not promising you’ll learn everything you need to be a librarian in grad school (oh my god you so won’t not even close hahahaha), but at least in theory you’ll be learning the most up-to-date information and methods.

(I’m curious to see how things have changed; when I was in school from 2015-17, the hot topics in library science were makerspaces (especially 3D printing), turning the library into the community’s “third space,” and learning how to incorporate video games into library cataloging and programming. No idea if those are still the main hot-button issues or if we’ve moved on to something else; I imagine information literacy and fake news are a pretty big one for current library students.)

Anyway! You pick a school, you might have to take a test or two to get in -- I had to take the GRE, which is like the SATs but longer -- almost certainly have to do all that annoying stuff like references and cover letters and all that, but assuming you’re in: now what?

There are a couple options depending on the school and the program, but I’m going to base my discussion around the way my school organized their program at the time, because that’s what I know dammit and I will share my outdated information because I want to.

My school broke the degree down into 5 specializations, which you chose upon application to the program:

Archives & Records Administration: For working in archives! I took some classes here when I was flirting with the idea, and it’s a lot of book preservation, organizing and caring for old documents and non-book media, and digitization. Dovetails nicely into museum work. It’s a very specific skillset, which means there will be jobs that absolutely need what you specifically can do but also means there aren’t as many of them. It makes you whatever the opposite of a “jack of all trades” is. You’re likely to be pretty isolated, so if you want to spend all your time with books this might be a good call; it’s actually one of the few library-related options that doesn’t require a significant amount of public-facing work.

Library & Information Services: For preparation to work in public or academic (college) libraries. Lots of focus on reference services, some cataloging, and general interacting-with-the-public. You have to like people to go into library services in general, heads up.

Information Management & Technology: Essentially meaningless, but you could in theory work as like a business consultant or otherwise do information-related things with corporations or other organizations.

Information Storage & Retrieval: Data analytics, database . . . stuff. I don’t really know. Computers or something. Numbers 3 and 4 really have nothing to do with libraries, but our school was attempting to branch out into more tech-friendly directions. That being said, both this and #3 could definitely be useful in a library! Libraries have a lot of tech, and in some ways business acumen could be helpful. All roads lead to libraries; remember that.

Library & Information Services / School Library Media Specialist: This was the big kahuna. To be a school librarian -- at least in my state -- you need to be both a certified librarian and a certified teacher, which means Master’s degrees in both fields. What our school did was basically smushed them together into a combined degree; you took a slightly expanded, insanely rigorous 2-2.5 years (instead of the traditional 1.5-2) and you came out of it with two degrees and two certifications, ready to throw your butt into an elementary, middle/junior high, or high school library. Lots of focus on education. I started here before realizing I don’t like kids at all, then panicked and left. Back in 2017 this was the best one for job security, because our state had just passed a law requiring all school librarians to be certified with a MSIS/MLS/whatever degree. So lots of people already in school libraries were desperately flinging themselves at this program, and every school was looking for someone that was qualified. No idea if that’s changed in time.

No matter what concentration you went in with, you automatically graduated with a state certification to be a librarian, which was neat. You didn’t automatically get civil service status, though; for some public libraries you need to be put on a civil service list, which means . . . something, I’m not entirely sure. It involves taking exams that are only available at certain times of the year and I gave up on it because it looked hard.

No one did more than 1 concentration, which is dumb because I wanted to do them all, but it takes a lot of time and money to take all the classes associated with all of them so I personally did #2, which was on the upper end of mid-tier popularity. School library and database services were far and away the most popular, and literally no one did the business one because it was basically useless, so library and archives were the middle children of which the library one was prettier.

THAT BEING SAID! Some forms of librarianship require a lot more education. A few of those are:

Law librarians: At least in my state, you gotta be a certified librarian and have a J.D. This is where the “big bucks” are -- though let’s be real, if you want to be a librarian you have zero interest in big bucks; reconcile yourself to being solidly middle-class and living paycheck-to-paycheck for the rest of your life or marrying rich -- which I guess is why it requires the most work.

School librarians: Like I mentioned, depending on the state you might need two degrees, and not all schools smush them into one. You might need to get a separate Master’s in education.

College librarians: Now, this depends on the college and the job; some colleges just need an all-access librarian, like mine. I didn’t need to specialize in anything, I just showed up with my degree and they took me. (Note: these sorts of entry-level positions tend to pay piss. Like, even more piss than most library gigs. Just a heads-up.) However, if you’re looking to get into a library of a higher-end university, you might be asked to have a second Master’s-level or higher degree just to prove you’re academic enough to party at their school. (Let’s be real, Harvard is almost certainly gonna want someone with a Ph.D. at the very least. That’s just how they roll.) Alternatively, the position might be for a specialty librarian, someone in charge of a field-specific library or field-specific reference services; if you’re being asked to head up the Science & Engineering Library at Masshole University, it’s reasonable to expect that you’ll be bringing a degree in engineering or some sort of science to the table. Colleges have so many different needs that predicting what kind of experience/education you should get is a bit of a challenge. Good luck. Some schools will help you out a bit with this; my grad school had dual degree programs where you could share credits between the MSIS and either an English or History Master’s so you could graduate with both in less time. I . . . started this, and then panicked at the thought of more school/writing a thesis and bailed, but it’s great if you’re into that idea!

What’s the point of the Information/Library Science degree?

You have to have the degree. If you don’t have the degree, you don’t get the job and you don’t make-a the money. Resign yourself to getting a Master’s degree or you’re gonna be bummed out and unemployed.

In terms of what you learn? Well, obviously it depends on the program, but I found that a lot of what I learned was only theoretically related to what I do on a daily basis. My instructors were lovely (well, the adjuncts anyway; the full-timers really didn’t want to be there and wanted to be off doing research and shit), but every library is so idiosyncratic and there’s such a massive umbrella of jobs you could get in one -- god, I didn’t even get into things like metadata services, which I learned basically nothing about in grad school but are super important to some positions -- that it’s hard to learn anything practical in a classroom.

However, besides the piece of paper that lets you make-a the money, there are two important things you should get from your grad school education:

Research skills: My god, you’re going to be doing so much research. If you’re a public librarian, you need to know how to Google just about anything. And if you’re a college librarian, being able to navigate a library database and find, evaluate, and cite sources . . . I mean, you’re going to be doing so much of that, showing students how to do that. Like a ridiculous amount of my day is showing students how to find articles in the virtual library. Get good at finding things, because much like Hufflepuffs, librarians need to be great finders.

Internship(s): Just about every library program will require an internship -- usually but not always in replacement of a thesis -- and if the one you’re looking at doesn’t, dump it like James Marsden in a romantic comedy. Internships are hugely important not only because they look good on a resume and give you some of those delicious, delicious references, but they are a snapshot of what your job is going to look like on a day-in, day-out basis; if nothing else, you’ll learn really fast what does and doesn’t appeal to you. As I mentioned, I wanted to be a school librarian for about half a semester. You know what changed my mind? My class required like 40 hours of interning at schools of each level. Being plopped into that environment like a play you’re suddenly acting in? Super helpful in determining whether or not this shit is for you.

What else should I learn, then?

Besides how to research basically anything? Here are some useful skills in just about any library:

Copyright law. Holy shit, do yourself a favor and learn about publishing/distribution laws in your state. Do you wanna show a movie as a fun program? You need to buy a license and follow super specific rules or it’s illegal! Does an instructor want to make copies of their textbook to give to the students? Make sure you know how much they can copy before it’s no longer fair use! Everything in my life would be easier if I’d taken the time to learn anything about copyright. I did not, and now I’m sad. (I lost out on a job opportunity because they wanted the librarian to be particularly knowledgeable in that kinda thing, and I was very not.)

Metadata and cataloging. In theory, you should learn this in grad school, but I was only given the bare basics and it wasn’t enough. Dublin Core, MARC-21, RDF -- there are so many different kinds of metadata schema, and I took a 6-week class in this and still don’t understand any of the words I just used in this sentence. But basically, to add items to a library catalog you often need to know how to input them into your library’s system; to an extent that’ll be idiosyncratic to your library’s software, but some of it will be based on a larger cataloging framework, so familiarity with those is very useful.

Public speaking and education. You’re gonna do a lot of it. Learn how to deal.

General tech savviness. Again, we’re not talking about coding but if you can navigate a WordPress website? If you know how to troubleshoot just about any issue with Microsoft Word, PowerPoint, etc.? If you can unjam printers and install software and use social media you’re going to be a much happier person. At the very least, know how to google tutorials and fake your way through; your IT person can only do so much, and a lot of it is probably going to fall on you.

Social work, diplomacy, general human relations kinda stuff. You’re going to be dealing with all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds, with every political view, personal problem, and life experience under the sun. You need to get very good at being respectful of diversity -- even diversity you don’t like* -- and besides separating your own personal views and biases from your work, you’ll be much better equipped to roll with the punches if you have, for example, conflict resolution training. Shit’s gonna get weird sometimes, I promise. (Once a student came in swinging around butterfly knives and making ninja noises. You know who knew how to deal with that? Not me!)

Standard English writing and mechanics. It’s not fair, but in general librarians are expected to have a competent grasp on the Standard English dialect, and others are less likely to be appreciated by the general populace. Obviously this differs based on your community and environment, and colloquialisms are sometimes useful or even necessary, but as a rule of thumb it’s a good call to be able to write “properly,” even if that concept is imperialist bullshit.

*I don’t mean Nazis. Obviously I don’t mean Nazis. Though there is a robust debate in the library community about whether Nazis or TERFs or whatever should be allowed to like, use library facilities for their own group meetings or whatever. I tend to fall on the “I don’t think so” side of the conversation, but there’s a valid argument to be made about not impeding people’s access to information -- even wrong or harmful information.

Any other advice?

Of course! I love to talk. Let’s see . . .

Get really passionate about freedom of information and access: A library’s main reason for existing is to help people get ahold of information (including fiction) that they couldn’t otherwise access. If you’re a public librarian, you have to care a lot about making sure people can access information you probably hate. (If you’re an academic librarian it’s a little more tricky, because the resources should meet a certain scholarly threshold, and if you’re a school librarian there are issues of appropriateness to deal with, but in general more info to more people is always the direction to push.) Get ready to defend your library purchases to angry patrons or even coworkers; get ready to defend your refusal to purchase something, if that’s necessary. Get ready to hold your nose and cringe while you add American Sniper to your library collection, because damn it, your patrons deserve access to the damn stupid book. Get really excited about finding new perspectives and minority representation, because that’s also something your patrons deserve access to. Get really excited about how technology can make access easier for certain patrons, and figure out how to make it happen in your library. Care about this; it’s essential that you’re passionate about information -- helping your patrons find it, making sure they can access it, evaluating it, citing it . . . all of it. Get ranty about it. Just do it.

Be prepared to move if necessary: One of my professors told us that there was one thing that would always guarantee you a job that paid well -- this was in 2016 but still -- that as long as you had it you could do whatever you wanted. And that was a suitcase. Maybe where you live is an oversaturated market (thanks for having 6 library schools in a 4-hour radius, my state). Maybe something something economic factors I don’t really understand; the point is that going into this field, you should probably make peace with the idea that you’ll probably either end up taking a job that doesn’t make enough money or struggle a lot to even find one . . . or you’re going to have to go where the jobs are. It’s a small field. Just know that might be a compromise you have to make, unless you can get a strictly remote job.

Read: This sounds stupidly obvious but it’s true! Read things that aren’t your genre, aren’t your age range; patrons are going to ask you for reading advice all the goddamn time, especially if you’re a public librarian, so the more you can be knowledgeable about whatever your patrons might ask you about, the easier your life will be. If you’re considering librarianship you probably love to read anyway, so just ride that pony as hard as you possibly can.

Learn to be okay with weeding -- even things you don’t think deserve it: You are going to have to recycle books. You’re going to have to throw away books. You’re going to have to take books out of the collection and make them disappear in some fashion or another. There are a lot of reasons -- damage and lack of readership are big ones -- and there’s no bigger red flag to a librarian than someone saying “I could never destroy a book.” That kind of nonsense is said by people who’ve never had to fit 500 books onto a shelf built for 450. Archivists are different, of course, as are historians, and everyone should have a healthy respect for books both as physical objects and as sources of information, but you’re going to have to get rid of them sometimes, and you’re just going to have to learn how to do that dispassionately.

Have fun! No one gets into this because they want money; if you want to be a librarian, or work in any library-adjacent field, it’s because you really care about the values of librarianship, or the people in your community, or preserving and sharing as great a wealth of information as possible. Your job will often be thankless and it’ll sometimes be exhausting. There will be times where it’s actually scary. And unless you’re rich as balls, it will make you stare at your student loans and sigh with despair. (You may be living in your parents’ basement while you sigh at your loans because you can’t afford to live on your own, for an example that has zero relevance to any authors of this blog, living or dead.) I can’t tell you if it’s worth it -- though you’ll probably find out pretty quickly during your internship, because that’s what internships are for. All I can say is that I love it, and I can’t imagine doing anything else.

#ask forest #libraries #librarianship #information science #career advice #education advice #oh my god this is long #i have a lot of feelings okay?#there is no way on earth anyone will read all of this #if you do tell me bc i will not believe it #Anonymous

77 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 5 years ago

Text

a strange love | yuta (m)

title: a strange love pairing: alien!yuta x black!reader genre: sci-fi/fantasy, fluff, angst, smut request: “I read a good chunk of your NCT work and really liked them. Would I be able to request a fic where a black female reader meets an alien (can be Yuta or Jungwoo) and they're both coming to terms that they're attracted to each other and have to come to terms with being attracted to someone of a different species? Can be smutty and don't be afraid to give the alien a less human biology if you don't mind.” word count: 13.1k warnings: alcohol use, cursing, near drowning experience, lots of mentions of water so this one might not mesh well with people w/ aquaphobia, non-human biology/body horror, extraterrestrial sex, lots of cum, oral sex (female receiving), tentacle dick, unprotected sex, creampie, please heed the warnings because this is an alien smutfic lmao a/n: giving the shape of water teas. i’ve actually never seen that movie 😕 but i will at some point. forgive me in advance for the nerdy references in here.

It’s funny how things happen when you least expect it. You never would’ve thought you’d be sound asleep when your entire world changed.

The night the UFO crashes in your city, you’re awoken by the tremors of its landing. The vibrations feel akin to an earthquake, and they make picture frames and other trinkets fall off your shelves and hit the floor in a clatter of noise. You jump up from your pillow at the racket, your heart pounding. You glance at the things lying on your floor and quickly register that the room—your entire home—is trembling.

There’s not much you can do at this point but ride it out, so you huddle down in your covers and hope the roof doesn’t cave in on your head. To your knowledge, your particular area isn’t known for earthquakes, which makes all of this even stranger. What could be causing one now? Is the world finally ending?

Eventually, the tremors stop. By now, your shelves have been emptied of nearly all their contents, but you’re still alive, which you’re grateful for. You wait a few more minutes to see if the shakes will begin again, but they don’t, so you climb out from the warmth of your covers to clean up your floor.

Police and ambulance sirens start blaring through the city not long after you get out of bed. That’s nothing unusual; there are usually injuries and casualties with natural disasters like these, and you expect many poor souls will be needing rescue tonight. You sigh and look at your closed blinds, watching them be sporadically illuminated by the lights of the emergency vehicles rushing past.

Once you’ve cleaned up your room and gotten back in bed, you think about checking social media for what people have been saying about the quake. There’s no doubt that the city’s residents have taken to Twitter and Instagram to document it. However, your eyelids are already starting to droop, and you’d probably fall asleep in the middle of scrolling, so you decide to tuck in and wait until morning.

Waking up the next day almost seems like a normal Sunday until you look at your blinds again and are suddenly reminded of last night’s flashing lights. Right. The earthquake. Throwing the covers back, you stumble out of bed to turn on your TV. You flip through the channels until you find a news station for your local area. You go to open the blinds, keeping your ears open for reports on the earthquake.

“Last night, we experienced unprecedented seismic activity throughout the majority of the city, caused by what appears to be an unidentified flying object, otherwise known as a UFO—”

Huh?

You turn to the TV, thinking this must be some kind of ridiculous hoax. You get ready to reach for the remote, thinking you must have turned it to one of those parody news channels by accident, but you freeze at what you see. Video footage of the city center—or what used to be the city center—plays on the screen. In place of the large historical monument that used to stand there, there’s a huge...silver and black spaceship. Or at least you think it’s a ship. It apparently sustained major damage in the landing, and now it looks more like a hunk of melted metal. The area around it has been blasted clear in every direction. Instead of green grass and pavement, there’s nothing but dirt.

The area is blocked off with yellow tape, though hundreds of people have gathered at the location to check out the object and take pictures and videos of it.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to yourself.

“We’re currently unsure where this UFO originated from, though we can confirm that it is not affiliated with any aircraft fleets owned by the U.S. military. Researchers and scientists from top universities across the country are being called in to assist in identifying this craft…”

“There’s no just way,” you mutter, grabbing your shower cap and pulling clothes out of your closet for your morning shower. “A UFO...guess that alien invasion is coming sooner than we thought.” You would like to believe it’s all just someone playing a terrible prank, but pulling off this level of theatrics is impossible.

After you get out of the shower and start making breakfast for yourself, you get a text from one of your coworkers, Alex.

10:30 A.M. Alex🍸 You seeing this shit on the news right now?

10:31 A.M. Obviously! It’s fucking wild. Do you really think it’s true? OR some elaborate government hoax? Anything’s possible. I’m betting “true,” but...

10:33 A.M. Alex🍸 I honestly don’t know. that’s why me and some of the others from work are about to head over there now. Wanna come?

10:34 A.M. The hell! I’ll pass. There could be all types of radiation n shit, I’m not tryna turn into the Green Lantern or the Hulk or somebody.

10:35 A.M. Alex🍸 lmFAO. Suit ypurself. If I gain superpowers don’t be surprised if I fly over to your house today.

10:35 A.M. You’re a mess. 💀

You spend breakfast watching more news reports and scrolling through Twitter feeds for firsthand information. People who visited the site, including your coworkers, have uploaded pictures of the UFO from various angles, inciting a frenzy of conspiracy theories and warnings that the world is about to end.

You don’t know what to make of the situation, but it stays on your mind throughout the day as you leave the house and go about completing your usual errands. The city center has been blocked off to all vehicles other than those belonging to people who’ve been called in to help, which means that traffic is sky-high everywhere else—even for a Sunday.

Sitting in a mishmash of cars, you roll down your window and sigh, looking out at the red traffic lights, and beyond that to the horizon. Things are about to get very weird for the next few weeks. Maybe months. You can only hope you’re prepared for it.

You don’t know why, but the air seems strange tonight.

It’s been 2 days since the UFO crashed. There haven’t been many more answers apart from what everyone already knows due to the ship’s destroyed state. The city has professionals out for that sort of thing, but they’re taking their sweet time analyzing the ship—though you can’t really blame them. Jumping straight into unknown alien tech seems like a death wish.

Your life has been pretty much the same as usual, though you know a few people at work who have been more directly affected by the events. One girl, Sooyoung, who lives in the neighborhood near the crash site claims the officials are thinking about having that entire area evacuate, though you don’t know why they’re beating around the bush about it if it’s true. Whatever radiation or chemicals they’re worried about has probably already leached into all the surrounding homes, and now you’re just waiting for someone to walk into your workplace with antlers or purple skin.

Admittedly, you’re morbidly curious about the case and what all of this could mean for Earth’s future, but you keep your fascination lowkey. You don’t need any of your coworkers thinking you’re the next alien-obsessed Mulder from X-Files. But then again, you’re not curious enough to visit the actual scene, so maybe you’re not the crazy one here.

You feel fine when you get home from work that day, but as you get washed up and settle into your usual evening routine, you can’t shake the eeriness gripping your subconscious. It’s not necessarily a bad feeling, either, just...foreign. Like an emotion you’ve never felt before, though you didn’t know there were even still new emotions to discover. Shaking your head, you figure maybe you should lay off the alien stuff for the rest of the week.

Before you head to bed that night, you go around the house making sure all the doors and windows are locked as you normally do. You pause at the backdoor for a reason you can’t explain, and the strange feeling grows stronger. At this point, you’re a bit frightened about what this is all about, but you can’t go to sleep without knowing. Curiosity takes over as you open the blinds and stare into the darkness of your backyard.

You don’t see anything right away. There are trees, bushes, your potted plants, and lawn chairs...everything looks normal. It’s only when you lean closer to the glass to squint that you see a figure lying in the grass. You jump once you catch sight of it, terrified that some monster or murderer has found their way onto your property. There was nothing there earlier when you closed the blinds, so whoever or whatever it is must’ve recently showed up.

You’re about ready to dial 911 when you realize the figure is curled in the fetal position and unmoving...almost like they’re unconscious. Or dead.

This is ridiculous. You feel like one of those people who always dies first in the horror movies because they went into the room the killer was obviously hiding in, but you’re overcome with the strong impulse to step outside. You grip the doorknob tightly, debating whether you should unlock it or not.

“...Fuck. Don’t let me regret this.”

You open the door with your phone in hand, the device serving as your flashlight. There’s still the screen door to get through, which you pause at for a moment. The figure remains unmoving even with the sound of the door opening.

“Hello?!” You call out to the individual, but there’s no response. Your phone’s light can’t reach them from there, which forces you to open the screen door and step out onto the porch. They’re still feet away, but from this closer distance, it seems like they’re wearing a sort of armor or full-body suit...maybe like a cosplay?

“Hope this isn’t some weirdo weeb passed out on my lawn…” you mutter, cautiously stepping onto the grass. As you approach, you can see now that the figure is likely male, though their back is to you so you can’t be totally sure. “Um, hello there? Can you hear me?” No response.

By now, you are only a few feet away from them. The person looks to be an Asian guy, with long blonde hair haloing his face. His features are angular and smooth, and he is indeed wearing some kind of body armor, its color unlike anything you’ve seen. Instead of being all one hue or even a few, it reflects the light from your phone and glows with a rainbow-like phosphorescence. The material itself looks translucent, but you can’t see through it; it creates a mind-bending optical illusion.

Your stomach suddenly drops to your feet. Is this who was in that UFO in the city center? It seems too out-there to be true, but your intuition is telling you otherwise. This can’t be fucking real.

You kneel on the wet grass next to the man and try to look for signs of life. You can hear his breathing, so he’s thankfully not dead. But he doesn’t look to be in good shape, either. He definitely won’t be able to get up on his own; he probably used the last of his energy to drag himself into your yard.

“Damn.” You turn the flashlight off and slip your phone into your sweatpants pocket. It seems like there’s no other options right now. You could call the police, but they’d probably accuse you of being in cahoots with this weird dude and drag you off to jail. Or they could cart him off for government experimentation, which sounds equally terrible. So with those things in mind, you gently maneuver his upper body until you’re able to hook your arms under his armpits and drag him towards your house.

You just really hope none of your nosy neighbors are seeing this right now.

He’s surprisingly light, and you get him inside the house fairly quickly. Once you’ve locked the door again, you pull him over to the living room so he’s propped against your couch. He still isn’t fully conscious, but his head and lips move as if he’s dreaming about something.

“What was that…?” You lean closer, trying to read his lips for some sort of clue. Surprisingly, you can make out the word water, which he mouths over and over again. “Water…” You run into the kitchen to pour a glass and bring it back to him, making sure not to spill any on the way over.

You press it to his lips, unsure if he’ll be able to drink, but to your amazement his muscles respond and he drinks quickly as you tip the glass. Soon, the water is all gone. You set the glass to the side with your palms sweating and watch as his face flutters even more.

“Can you...hear me?”

His eyes open only slightly. This movement seems to cause him some pain, though you aren’t sure why. Maybe he has a headache since he was dehydrated? You scramble to turn the overhead light off, not wanting to make matters worse. He still doesn’t try to open his eyes any wider, though.

“Who are you? Were you...did you crash here?” You feel a little bad about asking so many questions, but you’re dying for answers as to what the hell is going on.

The man licks his lips, and his mouth parts like he’s going to answer. But his throat is still dry, and it hurts to talk.

“...Shit.” You get him another glass of water and let him drink until it’s gone again. He seems a little better after that.

“Th-this...” He clears his throat a couple times and tries again. “This is E-Earth, right?”

Now you’re the one lost for words. Although you already figured he couldn’t be from here, hearing it out loud makes your blood rush and your heart race. “Um, yes...this is Earth. Was...the UFO yours?”

He sighs, and his head falls back against the couch arm. “Yes.”

“It’s destroyed,” you say, and then feel silly about it. “But you already know that.”

He doesn’t answer that. He just slowly glances around your living room instead, looking as if he’s never seen a stranger setup. The quietness is awkward, and you almost feel like he must be judging your taste for interior design. “Do you have a name?”

More silence. You decide he probably won’t answer until he finally says, “You can call me Yuta.”

“Yuta.” You tell him your name too, and he just nods, almost imperceptibly. He doesn’t say much without prompting, which makes it hard for you to know how to approach the situation. You don’t want to overwhelm him with questions, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to speak unless you do. “How did you end up here? I mean, in my—uh, my yard?”

Yuta shakes his head and then winces. “I crashed, and then...I just ran. The ship was melting. I just ran. I hid...I went from place to place, hiding. Don’t know how I got here.”

You wonder how he made it all the way from the city center to your home without being spotted, especially with that armor. You can only conclude that he must be stealth at hiding. Or maybe someone did spot him and the feds are about to bust down your door any minute. You take a shaky breath and try to push that anxious thought to the back of your mind.

Suddenly Yuta fixes you with a suspicious glare. “Will you reveal that I’m here?”

You try not to get offended, because you’d honestly be thinking the same if you were a newly-landed alien in a foreign land. “No. I don’t have any reason to do that. I just want to help. I’m not looking to be on anyone’s 6 o’clock news or cheap tabloid. You probably don’t believe me, but you can have my word for it...if that means anything to you.”

He’s quiet again, though you can tell he’s still skeptical.

“Um, do you need anything? More water?”

He sits up straighter at the mention of that. “Water.” You reach for the glass again, but he frowns. “Not that. I need…something more than that.” He looks around again, but when he doesn't see what he’s searching for, he attempts to stand only to slump down again.

“Slow down there, I don’t think you’re gonna make it like that. Can I help?”

You end up slinging his arm across your shoulder and letting him lean his body against you while you lead him to the bathroom. That’s the biggest source of water in the house, and you assume he must be wanting a bath or shower or something. Even aliens have their hygiene needs, you guess.

You turn the bathroom light on and have Yuta sit on the toilet lid as you turn the bathtub faucet. “Is...this what you meant?” He nods, and you put the plug in and let the tub fill up.

“Just water. Nothing else. I need to recharge,” he says, and before you can ask what he means by that, he starts undressing in front of you.

At first, your reaction is delayed; you’re struck with surprise when you realize the armor isn’t actually a whole bodysuit, but more like...connected panels of material that can be taken off. You don’t understand the material at all, it doesn’t resemble anything on Earth you can think of—but of course, it’s alien tech. It conforms to his body as he’s wearing it but takes on a more rigid form once it’s peeled off, like actual armor.

Then, he gets ready to take the bottoms off and something finally clicks in your brain that oh my God he’s about to get naked in front of me.

“Whoa!” You spin around and cover your eyes for good measure, glad that your brown skin hides the way your face is burning right now. You step towards the open door. “Uh, I’ll just leave, sorry—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, what?”

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” Yuta says, pulling the last of his suit off. He steps into the tub and sits down in it, putting his hands underneath the stream of water rushing out of the faucet. The skin on his hands seems to ripple, like it’s readjusting itself, and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck at that. You forget to be embarrassed at his unclothed state as you watch it happen.

“What’s going on with that? And why did you need the water?”

Yuta splashes his face before answering, and he turns to look at you, the droplets of water sliding off the ends of his hair. “I’m part of a Water Race. Water is my home. Our bodies have adapted to be built for living in water, and it’s dangerous to be without it for too long.”

“Adaptation? But you look like a regular human.”

“It’s just a skin.”

“A skin?” You echo in horror, a sudden flashback to Silence of the Lambs popping into your mind. “Someone else’s skin?”

Yuta gives you a look that seems to say he can’t believe you’re asking such a stupid question. “No, it’s my skin. It’s just not my natural form.” To prove his point, he holds his hand out, and right before your eyes his human skin pulls back and morphs into something much more scaly and green. His fingers are actually more like talons, with long black nails on the ends, and there’s translucent webbing between each one.

You gasp and step back, trying to catch your breath at the sight of something so very not human. The skin reforms around his hand—you assume he has to be willing it with his mind somehow, because he doesn’t even move—and his digits look just as human as ever.

“How the hell do you hide your nails under there? Isn’t it just like...wearing a bodysuit?”

Yuta shakes his head. “No. Once the skin is on, it becomes...part of me. My hand becomes a human hand. I’m not hiding anything, it just is. It’s hard to explain.”

“Have you been to Earth before? Is that why you have a human skin, because...adaptation or some shit? This is all so wild.”

“I can shift into different skins if I want, if I gather enough genetic information on certain species’ inhabitants...but there are limitations.” That doesn’t exactly answer your question, but you figure maybe it’s best if you didn’t know. You can at least assume he’s been in contact with humans before.

“I see…” You fidget for a few seconds before speaking what’s on your mind. “Okay, one last thing...you said there are limitations. Does that mean you can’t transform into, like...a dung beetle or something?”

Yuta gives you another are you serious look and you put your hands up. “Just wondering. It was worth a try.”

You feel awkward just standing there, and you feel like maybe you should give him some privacy even if he doesn’t care much, so you leave the bathroom to find something for him to wear.

You’re not sure if you’ll find anything that fits him, so you end up settling on a light pink bathrobe and decide he’ll have to work with that for now. You slip back into the bathroom to leave it on the sink, averting your eyes from his nude form in your bathtub. “Um, here’s something to wear...not sure if anything else will fit, this is all I have for now. Sorry.” You don’t wait for him to respond— he probably won’t anyway—before slipping back out.

It’s nearing 1 A.M. at this point, which is late considering you still have work tomorrow. You sigh and curl yourself up on the couch, hoping you won’t have to stay up for very much longer.

You’re not sure when you drifted off or how long you were out, but you wake up to the sound of footsteps and see Yuta coming out of the bathroom wearing the robe you’ve given him. You have to laugh a little at the sight of him in the light pink material, though you think it suits him in a way.

“Yeah, you’re gonna need some clothes.”

Yuta raises his eyebrow. “I still have my suit.”

“Yeah, but...don’t you want something else to wear? Your ship is pretty much gone, so you’ll probably be on Earth for a while...and if you don’t want anyone realizing you’re not from here, you’ll have to wear regular clothes.”

Yuta visibly upsets at the idea of his ship’s destroyed state, even though he knows there’s not much he can do about it. “I guess. I shared which planet I was heading to before I left, but...Earth is a very big place. And my trackers were destroyed with my ship, so…”

“I’m sorry,” you say, though you don’t know how much comfort that can be. “We can look for some clothes tomorrow. It’s probably better for you not to leave the house right now, but...that’s what online shopping is for.”

“Online shopping…?” Yuta seems puzzled by the concept, but he doesn’t ask any further. Then he looks around the room again. “Is there somewhere I can rest?”

“Oh, yeah, follow me.” You get up from the couch to head upstairs where the guest bedroom is. The house isn’t huge—it was your grandmother’s before she passed it on to you—but it’s more than enough for you alone, and it should fit one more just fine. You open the door and turn on the light, illuminating the small room. “It hasn’t been used in a while, so excuse any dust. I can fix that tomorrow, but it’s getting late...” you stifle a yawn, “...so we should probably go to sleep now.”

Yuta looks at you and nods.

“Um, well...goodnight.” You wave at him from the doorway before closing it.

As you make your way down the stairs, a sudden weariness and apprehension comes over you. An alien in your home? Escaped from a recently crashed UFO? Wearing one of your bathrobes? You’re almost positive you haven’t thought this through deeply enough, but you’re in it now. Might as well see where the rabbit hole leads to.

The next morning, you prepare yourself to go to work like you usually do. For a while, the house is so quiet that you almost forget Yuta is there until you see him standing in the kitchen entryway, still wearing his pink robe, and you almost jump through the ceiling.

“Jesus, you came out of nowhere,” you gasp, holding your heart.

“Where are you going?” Yuta asks. He steps into the kitchen and tentatively sits down in one of the dining table chairs.

“To work,” you say, and then pause. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea to leave a freshly-landed alien at home alone. “Will you be okay here by yourself? I could come over on my lunch break…”

“What am I supposed to do here the whole time?” Yuta asks, sounding displeased at the thought of being abandoned for hours.

“Well...you could watch TV? There’s the on-demand channel...the fridge is available for you too, just try not to clean out my—wait, do you even eat human food?”

Yuta shrugs, crossing his arms. “Not really. It’s not a big source of nutrients for us.”

You nod awkwardly. “Huh. Well, that’s...interesting.” The stress of the situation is already making your head pound and you haven’t even left for work yet. “Uh, yeah—I think I’ll just come over later and check in...come on, I’ll at least show you how to work the remote before I leave.”

You bid Yuta goodbye once you’re about to go, though you feel more than a little hesitant about leaving him there. There isn’t much other choice, though; you can’t afford to take a day off on such short notice.

The extraterrestrial sighs, sprawling across the couch and looking at the ceiling. The TV is already playing the channel you left it on, and Yuta turns to the screen and watches as a group of humans make weird food dishes he’s never seen before.

“This is stupid.”

The rest of the week with Yuta manages to be an adventure even though he never steps foot outside the house.

Yuta doesn’t take a liking to human food, which means he opts for spending most of his time in the guest bathtub instead, claiming that the water gives him more nourishment than meals can. You don’t know how true that is, but you’re not going to fight him on it. Less food you have to prepare, you reason...although you often end up making extra anyway and getting him to try a few bites. It feels odd to not see him eat.

Living with someone from outer space is not really as weird as you expected it might be, which surprises you. Yuta stays in his human skin whenever he’s around you, and you steer clear of the guest bathroom when it’s occupied lest you walk in on something crazy.

You’ve taught Yuta about new concepts he didn’t know before or wasn’t overly familiar with. He’s particularly intrigued with online shopping, and you ended up buying him a bunch of outfits that you both thought he’d look nice in. He doesn’t seem to be big on technology, which surprises you considering how advanced his UFO looked even its ruined state, but maybe human tech is more primitive than what he’s used to. He’s quite fascinated with the microwave, though, and how it can heat anything up in minutes.

With you uncovering new bits of information each day, you continually wonder how different his homeworld must be from the Earth. You can’t pull much out of him about it, for whatever reasons he has for keeping the information close, but you try to let him talk about it at his pace without pressuring him.

You could probably get used to living like this.

Maybe not your wallet, though. You’re definitely not loving how your water bill is going to look once it comes in the mail.

None of your coworkers or neighbors know—not that it’s any of their business anyway. You don’t know how long Yuta is going to stay, or what the hell you’re going to do when his people finally catch wind of his whereabouts and land a UFO in your backyard, but you figure you’ll get to that part when it comes.

On one Saturday morning, you wake up to the sound of tapping on your door. You try to ignore it, thinking it’s just some woodpecker setting up shop outside your window, but you’re proven wrong when the door swings open.

You pull the covers away from your face for a moment to see Yuta standing there looking at you. You stare at him for a few seconds before sighing.

“Why are you up so early? It’s the weekend,” you groan, pulling the covers back over your head.

“Why do you sleep so late?” Yuta retorts, still standing in your doorway. You don’t know whether he expects you to get up and do a trick, but it’s not happening. You peel the blanket away so it’s just below your eyes and look at him.

“What?”

“It’s not fun being here alone all day, you know,” he says, crossing his arms.

“So...what? Do you want me to play with you or something?” You can’t stop your sudden laugh, but you feel bad about once it’s out. He has just lost his ride home and has no foreseeable way back until someone notices his absence. Plus, needing to stay hidden and cooped up like a criminal can’t be enjoyable.

Yuta rolls his eyes at your response and starts down the hallway again, but you jump out of the bed and follow him. “Wait, Yuta, I’m sorry. That was stupid. I know it can’t be easy living like this. I’m not sure if I can make it better, but I’m willing to try.”

Yuta pauses in the hall and turns back to look at you. “I’m tired of being in here all the time....no offense. But there’s only so much I can take. I know I’m supposed to be in hiding, but it’s not like anyone can tell the difference. Even you couldn’t. Can’t we go out for one day?”

You think about it for a moment and figure he’s right. You both were trying to be overly cautious at first, but there’s no real way anyone would notice anything unless he shifted. “I guess we could...as long as we don’t go anywhere with a lot of water.”

“I have more self-control than that,” Yuta scoffs, though his words trail off as he’s already heading back to his room to get dressed.

You and Yuta walk around downtown for a little while, although you can’t shake the lingering nervousness you feel. You both decided not to head back to the city center any time soon; there’s not much left of the broken ship anyway, with scientists carting off pieces of it for research. Just as you thought. It’s too big to transport all at once, but you’re sure the remaining parts will be gone within the next couple weeks.

Yuta is continually surprised by how many new and unfamiliar things he spots along the way—things he actually gets to see up close and in detail. Kinda hard to focus when you’re running and hiding for your life.

Eventually, Yuta slows down as you walk past a small and colorful restaurant. “What’s that?” he asks, pointing up at the sign. You stop to turn around and see what he’s gesturing to.

“That’s just a hamburger joint...you won’t wanna go in there,” you say, raising your eyebrows. Because you don’t eat food. Despite that, Yuta still seems curious about the restaurant and he hesitates to walk away. Realizing that you aren’t going to get anywhere, you go to stand next to him and peer inside. There are a few people already inside, sitting at scattered tables and eating their food. “Do you want to go in, or…? ‘Cause you have to eat something if we do. This is your idea.”

“I’ll eat, let’s just go,” Yuta says, grasping your hand and pulling you into the restaurant.

You wave at the person behind the counter who greets you as you walk in, while Yuta is busy scanning every inch of the place. You let him look over the menu for a little while, but with so many options available he isn’t sure what to get—especially when he’s not sure if he’ll like any of them—so you end up picking for the both of you.

When you finally get your food, you take it to one of the tables. You watch attentively as Yuta takes the first bite of his hamburger, and you try to stifle your giggles as you watch his face go from nonchalance to bewilderment to shock.

“This is actually...good.”

“Wait, this is really the first meal you’ve liked? Are you saying my cooking is bad? Damn.” You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I’m not answering that.” Yuta laughs along with you, which is probably the first genuinely happy expression he’s shown since he’s been here.

Yuta has a very pretty smile, you realize. You’re a little taken aback by it. You haven’t seen much of it since you met him, but it’s here now and striking in its genuine quality. It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside...which you mainly attribute to the satisfaction of doing something nice for someone else. Of course. Who wouldn’t enjoy a nice meal they didn’t have to pay for?

Things go smoothly for a while as you both eat and pretend to make boring small talk since you can’t talk about him being an alien in public. However, you feel sweat on the back of your neck when you see your coworker Alex walk through the door with his boyfriend. This city is too small for its own good sometimes.

You try not to call attention to yourself and Yuta, keeping your gaze on your food, but he spots you anyway and waves enthusiastically. Alex gestures for his partner to go ahead and order while he comes over to your table.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s great to see you! Too bad we missed you at the UFO wreck today, though; we went out again one last time before they take the whole thing away,” he rushes out in one breath. Yuta’s eye twitches at the mention of his ship, and you’re suddenly on edge, hoping the situation doesn’t turn sour.

“Oh, uh, wow, that’s...cool!” you choke out, pinching your straw between your fingers. Before you can think of a way to divert the subject, Alex turns to Yuta.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Alex! Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” The last few words are directed at you. Alex gives you a playful grin, and you toss him an embarrassed smile back.

“Uh, no, he’s my friend! Yuta.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yuta says, though you can recognize his tone is a bit dry.

“Pleasure’s all mine!” Alex’s boyfriend calls him from the other side of the restaurant, and he turns to respond before taking his leave. “Ah well, looks like we’ll have to cut it short, but it was so great to see you guys. Enjoy your lunch!”

You let out the breath you were subconsciously holding once he leaves.

“Boyfriend…” Yuta murmurs.

“What?”

“That would be really weird. Wouldn’t it? We’re not even the same species,” he says, lowering his voice. It’s not like you don’t agree, but you admittedly don’t appreciate the way Yuta screws his face up at the thought. You prickle with embarrassment.

You scoff, taking a sip of your drink. “Well I’m not exactly eager to date an overgrown fish, so…” You almost expect Yuta to fall into another one of his moods at your words, but he actually chuckles a bit, which surprises you.

“Then it’s mutual!” Yuta sticks his tongue out and you roll your eyes.

The warm and fuzzy feeling, you soon find out, is not a one-time thing.

You don’t quite know what to make of that. You wouldn’t like for Yuta to go back to his initial broody state, of course, but you’re starting to believe this feeling can’t just be attributed to your charitable actions. You can’t stop thinking about the more playful side of Yuta you saw at the burger place that day, and the way he’s been gradually more open with you since then.

Yuta usually spends his nights splashing around in the guest bathtub, but one night he wanders into the living room and sees you putting your afro in plaits. He becomes weirdly fascinated with the process, watching you carefully and asking occasional questions. Amused by his interest, you answer all his questions and even offer to let him do one section.

“It’s probably not the same, but I used to braid my friend’s hair often…” he says wistfully as he settles in behind you. “We did a lot of things together.”

Your ears perk up. “Oh? You sound like you were very close,” you say, resting your chin on your knees.

“Really close,” he affirms. His hands are gentle in your hair, as testament to his words. You close your eyes and relax into the sensation, and before you know it, that warmth is spreading through your chest again. You even allow yourself to wonder what it’d be like for him to do this all the time, tending to your hair and telling you about his homeworld, before you open your eyes again and quickly pull yourself out of that reverie. You probably shouldn’t get too used to this, you reason with yourself. “I think she’s what you’d call a mermaid...except the look is a bit...different.”

“Different?” you echo, wondering if you’ll get an explanation.

“They don’t have human arms or anything like that...it’s more like tentacles.”

“Ah,” you try to imagine that, though it’s hard. “That’s certainly unique.”

“Maybe you’d like it...my planet, I mean.”

“You think I would? Why?”

“I dunno, just a feeling…”

“If only I could breathe underwater,” you laugh. “You’d take me back, though? Hypothetically, of course. I’m not too human for you?”

“Will you ever let that one go? It’s probably the least I could do after setting up residence here. Maybe we’ll get you an alien costume, though, so you’ll fit in.”

“How nice of you to think of me in all my humanness. God, the universe is something else…”

You start when Yuta’s hands leave your hair. “I think I’m done?” he says, sitting back on his feet. You grab the mirror from the coffee table and look at the braid you let him do.

“Oh wow, it looks good.” You purse your lips to hide the grin about to break across your face. “Do you wanna do the rest?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Go ahead then, my hands needed a break anyway.”

You sit back and let Yuta finish the rest of your hair, listening quietly as he tells you more about his friend from his homeworld. Her name is unpronounceable to you, but it sounds pretty all the same. They grew up together, he says, and have been on lots of adventures over the years, though he still keeps that same vagueness he always has when describing his life. He ends up getting you to tell him more about your life, which you do; you figure he probably doesn’t know a whole lot about you, either.

Yuta hands you the mirror when he’s done, and his head pops up next to yours in the reflection. “Good?”

“It’s great!” you say, and you really mean it.

You discover that, strangely enough, Yuta has an affinity for sci-fi movies. Go figure. He especially seems to like the campiness of alien films; then again, everything is campy to him because of how different it is from how extraterrestrials actually live.

You are in the middle of watching The Fly when it comes to one of sex scenes, and you try not to sweat. It’s always a little awkward to watch sex scenes with other people, but doing it with an alien gives the whole thing an extra layer of weirdness.

“Human sex is so funny,” Yuta says out of nowhere. You just barely avoid choking on your drink.

“Uh, o-okay. Do I want to know what that means?”

Yuta only shrugs and leans farther back onto the couch, looking completely unbothered about what he’s just said. “It just is.”

“...I’m sure your people must procreate some kinda way?”

“Yeah, but it’s not quite this. But when I’m in this form, I can do it as humans do.”

That makes you pause, and you’re not sure what to do with that information. Actually, your mind has already decided for itself and is trying to go to a place you don’t want it to, and you’re mildly horrified by that revelation. There’s no real reason why you should be curious about it. And yet...

“Hummm...have you done it before? In this form?” You keep your eyes glued to the screen, which is now showing a shirtless Jeff Goldblum doing acrobatics—but that’s still less awkward than looking over at Yuta right now.

“There was one time.”

There is a twinge of something in your chest. Fascination? Sure. Revulsion? Maybe not that. Dare you call it anything close to jealousy? You immediately throw that one out the door, sink further into your seat, and try not to think about what your life has come to.

“Okay, since you still won’t tell me directly if you’ve been here before, at least tell me this; did it happen here on Earth? With a human?”

Yuta shakes his head. “Some other aliens have weird fetishes. I only did it because she asked and was really adamant about it.”

“Ooookay, you know what…” You get up from the couch and walk to the kitchen, laughing awkwardly all the way. You don’t have any particular reason to go in there, but you have to do something with the nervous energy that’s about to make you jump out of your skin. You pretend to shuffle around in the fridge for a minute so you don’t look too silly getting up for no reason.

After taking a moment to calm down, you turn back to Yuta. “Okay. Hypothetically, if you wanted, could you actually…? With a human? In your natural form? Or would the parts be incompatible, or...”

“Maybe...I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve ever tried. Why?” Yuta gives you a look that’s partway between curiosity and incredulity, and you wave your hand in dismissal.

“It’s just a question.”

Yuta leans forward on the couch, barely concealing his own amusement at whatever he’s cooking up in his mind. “Are you saying you want to try it with me?”

“You’re not funny,” you sigh, trying to ignore the way your skin is burning at that suggestion. “Remind me not to ask you anything like that again.”

When you get home from work one weeknight, you roll your eyes at the mass text sitting in your inbox, forwarded to you from Alex. Another after-work party, which means another event where someone will run through the sprinklers naked and everyone will pretend like they don’t remember it the next workday.

You don’t know how you’re going to get out of this one, especially with Yuta, who will likely want to go if he finds out, so you decide to just come out and say it and see what happens.

“Hey Yuta…” You slide up behind him where he’s sitting on the couch. “I just wanted to let you know I won’t be at home for a few hours on Saturday. I’m going to a party this weekend. It’s a friend’s party, someone from work.”

Yuta looks at you forlornly. “The same person we met at the restaurant?”

“No, but he’s gonna be there too. Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I really don’t know if it’s safe for you to go…”

“That’s not fair, the last time at the restaurant went well,” Yuta argues.

“Yes, but this guy has a pool and he’s a dickhead who likes to push people in and what if you get caught off guard and change unexpectedly?”

Yuta’s response is as straightforward as you expected it to be. “Then I’ll punch him in the face.”

You laugh at that and shake your head, coming to sit beside him on the couch. “Ugh. As satisfying as that sounds, I don’t need the extra stress of dealing with the aftermath. I don’t know, Yuta...do you think you’ll be okay? God, I feel like an overprotective mom or some shit.”

“Y/N, it’ll be fine, stop worrying. I can take care of myself,” Yuta insists, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes. He’s a little closer than you anticipated, which makes your heart rate increase a little. You chalk that reaction up to his invasion of your personal space and shift away, groaning.

“Fine, I’ll bring you. But if shit goes down, I can’t promise an easy way out. Let’s just keep things lowkey, alright?”

“Of course I can do that! I’ve been doing it so far haven’t I?” he says, but somehow you’re not entirely convinced.

The party is filled with people you know from work and a slew of unfamiliar faces, probably your coworkers’ friends. It’s mostly a backyard party, like you already knew, although there are some people mingling within the house.

There are already a few people lounging in the pool. In any other scenario, it might be inviting to you, but now you just look at all that water with a looming sense of anxiety. Yuta sticks close to your side, saying nothing but studying everyone around him.

“Y/N!” your coworker David shouts from the backdoor of his house. He holds up his beer in salutation and you wave back at him, mildly annoyed that he’s brought everyone’s attention to you both. He hustles over to you and claps you on the back strong enough to make your bones rattle, and you wince. “Hey dude!” He reaches across you to pull Yuta into a handshake, and Yuta also winces when he grips his hand a little too tight. “Make yourselves at home, I’ve got everything you could ever need—including the booze and babes!” You both nod awkwardly before David goes off to greet someone else who’s just pulled up. You roll your eyes once he’s gone.

Yuta’s eyebrows draw together. “That was…”

“Annoying,” you finish for him.

“You don’t seem to like him. Why did you decide to come?”

“Workplace politics, if you’re the only one who doesn’t come it’s awkward, ugh. It’s just bullshit. Let’s not get into it.” You walk towards the house and Yuta follows, and you nod at a few people you know along the way.

You find Alex in the kitchen, where he offers to make drinks for you and Yuta. You cast a glance at Yuta, wondering if he’ll take up the offer; you have no idea how he’ll react to alcohol, or if they drink any equivalent of it on his homeworld.

“Um, I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh okay, straight-edge guy! That’s cool too,” Alex grins, making just the one drink for you. As you and Alex talk, the girl from your department whose neighborhood was about to be evacuated sidles up to your little group.

“I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”

“Oh...it’s Yuta.”

“Yuta? How cool, I’m Sooyoung.”

Little did you know that that one introduction would expand into them having a half-hour long conversation right there in the kitchen. You really don’t know how Yuta is pulling this off without spilling the beans, but then again, you do; he’s good enough at manipulating the conversation to make it seem like he’s sharing personal info when he’s really not. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that he throws in things you taught him every so often.

Alex notices your changing demeanor and follows you as you walk into the living room, finally exhausted with playing third wheel. “Hm, someone seems a little spicy.”

You cough. “I’m fine, it’s just cramped in there, David should really invest in a bigger house..this place could use a remodel.” You throw a glance around the living room, not wanting to see the mischievous look in Alex’s eyes.

“Well, remodel aside, it’s not really my business, but you certainly seem to have a little green monster brewing here.”

You give Alex a long look. “Don’t. He’s my friend. He’s not even—” You have to stop yourself before you expose anything, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Not even what? Your type? I don’t know, he’s handsome enough to me. You can’t go wrong with a pretty boy. Don’t tell Xavier I said that, though.”

“Lord, let me get the hell out of here…” You leave Alex to cackle to himself while you go out into the backyard again, holding your drink and mulling around the edges of the activity. Too busy wrestling with your own emotions, you don’t realize how close you’ve drifted towards the pool.

“Hey, Y/N?” David says from behind you.

“Yeah?” You go to turn towards him, but before you can, you feel a huge shove from behind and the next thing you know your feet are off the ground and you’re in the pool. It all happens so fast that you can barely catch your bearings, and for a terrifying moment you’re convinced you’re about to drown.

The seconds feel like minutes, and you can’t even open your eyes to tell up from down. The next thing you register is an arm around your waist, and somehow you’re being pulled up even though you’re too panicked to even control your limbs. Your head pops above the water and you cough and sputter loudly, trying to take in air. You try to blink the water out of your eyes, though it drips off your hair and makes it even harder to see.

You’re still not sure what the hell is going on until you’re hauled out of the water and sitting on the ground. Someone hands you a towel, and you hear a female voice saying you’re such an asshole, David.

You wipe the water off of your face and then you’re finally able to see; Yuta is crouching in front of you, just as soaked as you are and staring at you with a worried expression. You look back at him, disoriented and a little dumbfounded at his still-human state.

“You didn’t…”

Even though you’re still trembling with the fear of almost drowning, you’re unable to look anywhere but at Yuta for that moment—at the pure concern on his face.

“Nice going, David,” someone else says sarcastically.

“It was just a bit of a prank! No hard feelings guys, come on. Y/N?” You realize David is standing on your left, and he tries to come closer, his hands open in an apologetic gesture. You jerk away from him, holding the towel to your shaking form.

“Get the fuck away from me. You’re a fucking idiot!” you shout. “All you do is ‘play pranks’ and then you wonder why no one likes you!” That draws a few barely concealed laughs out of the people standing nearby, though you don’t think any of it is funny. David steps back, unsure how to respond and looking truly embarrassed for once in his life.

Filled with anger, you try to get to your feet but you’re still unsteady. Yuta puts his arm around you again, lifting you up and encouraging you to lean your weight on him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

You don’t have much to say on the way back home. You insist on leaving right away even though Yuta suggests you sit and wait until the tremors subside. He obviously can’t drive you back home, so it’s all he can offer, though it doesn’t make you feel much better.

The silence itself isn’t particularly awkward to Yuta, but he is uncomfortable anyway because he knows it stems from your own discomfort. At a red light, he turns to you.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, and then he speaks again. “I know you’re mad about the pool, but...it seems like there’s more than that. Did...you not like me spending so much time with Sooyoung?”

You scoff. “You can’t be serious. I don’t care what you and that girl do.”

“You’re not a very good liar.” You’re too worn out to argue, so you merely give him a sidelong glance. Yuta sits back in his seat and watches a few cars zip past, their tail lights looking like clashing stars against the night. He’s not used to so much...manmade stuff. There was his ship and his trackers, of course, but he still has a hard time adjusting to be surrounded by so much iron and steel. His own planet is ruled by nature, by the vast oceans in all their unpolluted original essence, but Earth—or at least this portion of it—is much, much different.

He means to glance back at you, but his eyes linger for a while longer than intended. He’s not sure why. Maybe it’s because your outfit is a pretty color, or because the coils of your hair look shiny reflecting the light. He’s never put much thought into human beings before, and his limited experiences with them were mostly better left unremembered. Taking a human form was no huge deal for him; just a move that was necessary at the time.

But now, he’s seeing humanity—and most specifically, you—in a different light, and he’s uncertain what to do with this realization. People have feelings, thoughts, and dreams, like his own species, or like any other. He’s beginning to care what you think of him, how you react to him, even though he doesn’t know why this matters.

“You look pretty,” Yuta says. The compliment is the last thing you expected from him. It seems especially random after what happened at the party; here you are, soaking wet and incredibly uncomfortable. You’re a little late to put your foot on the gas pedal once the light turns green, and someone behind you honks.

“Pretty? I thought humans were weird to you.” Your mind goes back to The Fly and the subsequent conversation you had, and your hands tighten minutely around the steering wheel.

“You are. That hasn’t changed.”

“Good to know.” You don’t want to laugh, but this does make you crack a smile. “But...thanks. And...thanks for that, at the pool, you know. I should...probably trust you more.”

The rest of the ride is a little more talkative after that, and Yuta is happy that he could lighten your mood if even a little bit. Although he wouldn’t tell you, he’s becoming accustomed to your smile, and he’s more displeased than he thought he could be when it’s absent.

The thunder booms so loudly that it makes your window frames shake. It almost reminds you of the day Yuta’s ship fell out of the sky. You pull the covers tighter around yourself as if they alone could protect you from the storm’s fierceness. Storm clouds have been brewing all day, but the skies didn’t open until you and Yuta went to bed. Now, the rain and lightning is in full force. The rain pounds against your window, sounding more like hail or even bullets.

You’re startled for a second time when there’s a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in?”

The door opens slightly and Yuta appears in the small sliver of space. “Sorry, but...can I sleep here? The storm...” He gestures to the window, where a crack of lightning strikes right after. He’s wearing a sleep shirt and loose pants, and his blonde hair is disheveled.

“Uh, sure.” You shuffle over to make room for him. “I guess this isn’t your type of water, is it?” He huddles underneath the covers with you, facing you with his arm tucked under the unoccupied pillow.

“Not when it’s so intense like this.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “It’s scary. Does rainy weather make you think of your homeworld often?”

“Often,” he repeats. “But...I think I’d be worse off if I weren’t here.”

“Here...on Earth?”

“I mean, here with you.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say. It’s a surprisingly personal confession, though you are grateful you’ve become someone so important in his life already, even if it’s only because you’ve given him shelter. That familiar warmth spreads through you again.

Warm and fuzzies = gratefulness to a friend, the feeling you get when you pet a cute puppy. Right. It’s not the sensation you get when you think you might have feelings for your extraterrestrial friend, you try to convince yourself. “I’m...glad you’re here. Maybe not under these circumstances, but still.”

Yuta nods without speaking, but he doesn’t take his eyes away from you. You think he must be waiting on you to say something else.

“What?” you ask quietly when he keeps staring at you. “Take a picture, it will last longer.” Your joke does little to clear the air, and the tension keeps rising. You should probably be the first one to look away, to end whatever weird game this is and go to sleep, but you can’t. It’s unexplainable.

Yuta props himself up on his elbow, and you’re about to ask him where he’s going when he slips his hand onto your bare shoulder. You’re already covered by the blankets, but you suddenly feel even hotter with his hand on you, sliding up from your shoulder to the side of your face. “Y-Yuta…?”

You don’t know what to say or do, but you don’t object when he leans closer. Your faces are only inches apart now, like he’s hesitating and wondering if he should cross the line. The thunderstorm is intense, but this moment feels much more suspenseful than that could ever be. And then, it’s suddenly satisfying when his lips are on yours.

The kiss starts gentle. He’s careful as if he’s afraid to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s soft and sweet. Things get more heated when his tongue prods against your lower lip and enters your mouth. You don’t know when his hand made it from your face to your side, but he pulls you close with his fingers pressing into the flesh just below your breasts, and you tremble at the proximity.

When you pull away, both of you are breathing harder and unable to look each other in the eye.

“Should we be doing this?” you whisper.

Yuta shakes his head. “I don’t know. But it feels good.”

At those words, you pause for a moment before moving to kiss him again. His lips respond deftly to yours, his body crowding you in and making you feel hot and enraptured with desire from where you still lie under the covers.

His hair is very soft when you slide your hands through it, though you can’t push away the thought that suddenly manifests in the back of your mind. This isn’t really his hair, or his lips, is it? It’s all a mask to cover whatever is underneath, which is something you still don’t entirely know, yet are increasingly curious about.

Yuta’s hand drifts up just high enough to caress the underside of your breast—all still over the cover of your clothes. Abruptly, that thought forces its way to the front of your mind, making itself unavoidable, and you have no idea how to reconcile it. This is all so...very unfamiliar. And undeniably scary.

You pull away from him, your face creased with conflict, and his hand stills on your body. “S-sorry, I…um...this is...”

Subsequently, he pulls his hand away from you, though some part of you doesn’t really want that to happen. “I-it’s fine.”

You both settle back into the sheets, the tense aura from before replaced with one that’s thick with unease. The storm continues on outside, unknowing and uncaring of anything else but its own nature.

Though you would like to pretend it isn’t so, things become strained after the night of the storm.

You and Yuta don’t talk about the kiss. You expected him to say something about it that morning after, but he didn’t acknowledge it, and so you figured you just forget about it, too. What are you thinking, anyway? You’re literally from two different worlds. You don’t have the first clue about what a connection would look like between you, whether it be just sex or a relationship.

Why couldn’t you just fall for a coworker and have a bit of office drama like everyone else? Even that would be simpler.

Why did you have to let your thoughts get the best of you? You don’t have any answer for that, except for maybe your own need to come to terms with your attraction. People have never been very skilled at accepting others different from themselves, you know that much. But that usually counts for people of different ethnicities or cultural backgrounds, not two entirely different species.

You spend the whole week afterwards tearing your mind up with this monologue and trying to figure out what you should do next, because you’re quickly growing weary of coming home to a tense atmosphere. Alex can only give so much advice—not that you’d really tell him the entire situation—without knowing just how complicated everything is.

Where he used to hang out with you and help you with your hair, Yuta spends more time up in the guest bathroom again. You wonder if he thinks you’re disgusted by him. You’d probably think the same if he reacted the way you did.

Unbeknownst to you, Yuta is facing the situation with a similar amount of inner turmoil as you, wondering if he’s gone too far. He’s done many silly things in his life, but he doesn’t know how to undo this mistake. The mistake of kissing you? The mistake of seeing you as more than just another human? The mistake of knowingly flying in a faulty ship? Maybe all of it.

He feels guilty about freezing you out and pretending as if nothing happened, especially with all you’ve done to make him safe and comfortable in your home. But, at the same time, he is equally frightened to face you and discover the real reasoning for why you pulled away that night. Because you’ll never see him as someone you could like? Or maybe even love?

If that’s your truth, he’d rather leave it unsaid.

There aren’t many choices left but to face it. Whether this idea is smart or not is yet to be seen, but you suppose you don’t have many solutions left. And you are sick of being cooped up in the house.

“You sure this is safe?” Yuta asks as he stares at the scenery whizzing past. “You were all freaked out about me being near water before...now you want to go to a lake?”

You glance over at him. “Yes, it’s my parents’ lake property. It’s private, Yuta. No one will be there but us. I think we could both use a mini vacation this weekend, yeah?”

“I guess, sure.” Yuta shrugs. His demeanor is more closed off than it was before that dreaded kiss, but you can still tell that he’s interested in the idea of getting access to a bigger body of water, even if he doesn’t outwardly express it.

The lake house is two hours out of your city. It hasn’t been used much in the past few years with both you and your parents being busy with work and life, but if there was ever a good time to use it, it’s probably now. You just hope there aren’t any squatters of the furry variety; the last thing you need is to be fighting raccoons or squirrels after stepping through the door.

Luckily, there’s really no one but you two once you reach your destination. The lake is big and pretty like you last remembered it, sparkling under the sun and throwing the rays back in your eyes. Yuta is automatically captivated by it.

“Here it is!” you say, walking along the sand and spreading your arms out towards the body of water. “It might not be much compared to your homeworld, but I hope it’s enough.” You carry your bag up the stairs to the house and turn back to Yuta, who’s still standing by the shore gazing across the water. “You can go in, you know? Get comfortable!”

That seems to snap him out of his trance, and he turns back to you, following you up the steps. “Not right now...I’ll go later.” You’re a little disappointed at that, but you simply nod and open the door to go in.

You spend the day getting increasingly more restless as you and Yuta hang out together. You go on the pier, walk around the entirety of the lake, and even take your dad’s boat out on the water, but he still doesn’t get in.

You eat dinner together later that night, although you’re the one doing most of the eating, and there isn’t much conversation to be had. You’ve both run out of things to say that don’t center around the kiss or why he refuses to get in the water.

Yuta spends a few more moments watching you push your food around your plate before leaning forward. “Why did you bring me here?” he asks.

You sigh heavily. “Do you not like it?”

“No, I do, but…” he hesitates. “Can you answer my question first?

You raise your eyebrows. “Okay, well. I brought you here because...I don’t know. I figure you deserve to have somewhere bigger to swim around in than my guest bathtub.” You laugh nervously.

He seems unconvinced. “Is that it?”

“I’d say so! Why won’t you even take one swim, is the better question? I want you to relax and be yourself.”

He furrows his eyebrows as if he doesn’t know how to reply. “You...aren’t you...repulsed by it? I just figured you wouldn’t want to see me in my natural form. Especially since…” He trails off at the end, and your palms sweat a little.

“No! I know I was weirded out at first, but...I-I guess that was the point of this whole trip, to show you that…” You grapple with your words for a moment, unsure if now is the time to fully confess what you’re feeling. “Look, I want to try, alright? I want to see it at least once. I want to accept you as a whole being, and that means, you know...all of you.”

Yuta smiles gradually at that, and you feel swept up with a sudden wave of affection you weren’t expecting. You are still a bit scared, but you don’t want to turn back now. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reply, clasping your shaking hands together.

Yuta nods and stands up from the dining table, gesturing for you to follow him. It’s late now, with the moon shining brightly and the last vestiges of dark blue sky giving way to black. The air outside is cool, but not uncomfortably so. You follow Yuta to the pier and watch timidly, your stomach flip-flopping, as he sheds his clothes, leaving them on the wooden deck. Then he slips into the water, disappearing underneath its still surface.

You crouch down, looking intently at the rippling water and anticipating whoever is going to resurface. The sounds of croaking frogs and crickets press in from every side, ringing in your ears so loudly that it’s hard to think straight.

You gasp when Yuta lifts from the water, his human skin gone and completely transformed into something that’s more...amphibian, if that’s any accurate way to describe his appearance. His skin is still scaly and green like you saw that first day, but in the moonlight it seems to glitter and reflect a spectrum of colors like his armor did. There are two fins on the either side of his face, translucent and shining a pale green. They slowly move back and forth as he treads on the water, as if they’re conveying an emotion to match whatever he’s thinking, and you watch them in fascination.

Yuta floats on his back in the water, the long gills on either of his sides catching the moonlight. You watch in fascination as they move with his breaths. Using the pier post to keep yourself stable, you reach out to touch them. They’re slick under your fingers, but not in a slimy or gross way. Your hand drifts to the rest of his skin, across his torso and along his sides, and every portion has a strikingly smooth texture. His alien eyes stare at you silently as you do, glittering big in the moonlight.

“What do you think?” his voice is quieter than you expected, as if he’s afraid of your reaction. He doesn’t break his gaze, though, studying your face carefully.

“You’re...amazing,” you say breathlessly. “Incredible.”

His lips, which are green like the rest of him, form a small smile, and then he dives underneath the water. He does a few laps as if he means to impress you, his lithe marine form sparkling just below the surface of the water. You keep your hand suspended over the pier as you watch him, your fingers sliding against his body every time he passes by. You smile at his display, a laugh coming out of you at his impromptu performance.

When he’s finished, Yuta climbs up onto the pier with you and kneels in front of you, much like he did that day he saved you from David’s swimming pool. His feet are webbed like his hands. Droplets of water slide off of them onto the wooden boardwalk while others linger on the clear webbing like tiny jewels. Your hand is magnetized to his face, drawing across the scaly skin and tracing over his lips, which are just as smooth as the rest of him.

Before you can think twice about it, you lean forward and capture his lips with yours. Did you expect it to be fishy? Maybe. But it’s not that at all. He still manages to taste distinctly like Yuta, even though you’re not sure what that taste is. It’s a flavor that makes you feel...held. Yuta is surprised for a moment, but he responds to your kiss, one of his webbed hands inching close to your face. He doesn’t touch you at first, a little reluctant and yet wanting to let you lead the pace so he doesn’t scare you off.

You welcome his touch, carefully brushing your fingertips across his hand and bringing it to make contact with your skin. His own skin is still a bit cold from the water’s temperature, but it doesn’t bother you much.

The kiss soon grows more intense, and a mounting desire makes itself known in you. You won’t pretend like you’re 100% confident about all of this, but you don’t want to shun it anymore, either.

Yuta’s hand drifts to your neck, his long nails pressing into your skin ever so slightly. You dare to explore his body more, sliding your hands across his chest and over his side gills, feeling the way they contract under your hands, and farther down still. You haven’t looked down there yet, and you’re nervous over what you’ll find. But you keep going until your fingers meet something slick and hot and throbbing, seeming vaguely like a regular penis, though you quickly realize it’s more of a tentacle.

Yuta shudders and draws away from the kiss, and you feel alarmed, wondering if you’ve gone too far without thinking.

“If we’re going to do this, I should...probably shift back—”

“Don’t,” you blurt out. Yuta looks at you questioningly. “I...you should if it makes you comfortable. But...I don’t mind.” He’s quiet for a few seconds—seconds that feel much longer than they really are. You’re apprehensive of what he’ll say, but you keep your eyes on his face.

“Okay,” he agrees. “If you’ll accept me like this...okay.”

Neither of you bother with moving to somewhere more comfortable like the lake house or even the sandy shore. Instead, Yuta peels your clothes away right there on the pier, covering every new bit of flesh with his strange and lovely mouth, his head fins ghosting across your collarbones and breasts like moths’ wings.

You tremble and grow wetter under his soft caresses, which are much gentler than you’d initially expect with his sharp black nails. His hands leave streaks of water across your body, which cools your burning hot skin.

Yuta carefully maneuvers your lower body at the same time as he bends his graceful head, bringing your sex close to his mouth and licking deeply into you. Your back presses hard against the pier, the wood scratching your skin as you cry out into the night air.

“Oh God, Yuta!” You soon realize that his tongue is much longer than any human one, and it reaches to a spot deep inside of you that makes you twist around in his grasp, your fingernails scrambling for purchase on the surface below you. He uses his tongue to pleasure that spot continuously, drawing moans and ever more wetness out of you as if he were controlling the waves in the ocean.

You find yourself coming apart on his extraordinarily long tongue, your legs shaking and then going limp with the pleasure flooding through your body. Your breaths come fast and hard. Yuta lifts his head from between your legs and pulls you carefully into his lap so his slick tentacle is pressing against you. It’s not hard like a dick would be, though it is clearly responsive to your body, and you momentarily wonder if it can even go inside you.

“Is this gonna work?” you ask, a tremor in your voice.

“It will work,” Yuta replies, and you’re not sure how, but you decide to trust him on it.

It does, to your surprise. With your legs crossed tightly over his lower back, Yuta presses into you, wet and warm and very unexpectedly soft. It doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before. It’s not a bad sensation, though—far from it. His tentacle is similar to his tongue in how it flexes and throbs inside you, pressing tight against that spot again and making you shiver in his arms.

You both quickly find a rhythm that works, your bodies moving together in an otherworldly combination of two beings, two species, two souls.

Yuta’s long nails scrape gently against your skin as he holds your back, guiding you on his sex and pushing his hips up into you. You sigh into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, feeling the cool scales underneath your lips. You seek a firm grip on his slick skin, bringing your body as close to his as possible.

“Yuta…” You moan his name. His hand slides to the back of your neck so he can bring your face to his again, kissing you deeply. There’s a wet squelching sound as your bodies connect, Yuta’s tentacle slipping in and out of you and pleasurably stroking your walls.

“Y/N…” Yuta whispers into your soft hair, pushing into your spot repeatedly, his thighs tensing under you as his pace increases. You grip his arms as you feel your orgasm swelling up in your abdomen. You tip your head back and Yuta’s mouth goes to your neck and farther down, his heavy breaths warming your skin and making you overheat from the inside out.

You tighten and cum around him, your voice stuttering out of you in broken gasps as he keeps thrusting into you, drawing your climax out. He pulses inside of you, which sends little shockwaves up your spine; you know he’s probably close, too.

When Yuta comes, there’s a lot more of it than you expected. His cum overflows and drips out of you with a consistency like syrup and a transparent color like precum. It makes the inside of your thighs sticky and shiny.

Yuta pulls out, and more of his cum spills out of you, leaking onto his lap and staining the pier underneath you.

“That’s not gonna get me pregnant, is it?” you say quietly, half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Yuta chuckles.

“Probably!?”

Yuta carefully gathers you in his arms and stands to his feet, walking you off the pier and back towards the lake house. Your clothes are still on the pier, but you’re quickly getting sleepy and aren’t very worried about it; you’ll get them in the morning.

“What happens now?” Yuta murmurs as he walks up the front steps. You already know he’s referring not just to your relationship in this present moment, but to every event that will make up your future. Does he need to continue hiding, or is it really safe? How long will this last?

You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest. “We stay together.”

Yuta’s arms tighten around you as a silent affirmation of your words.

270 notes · View notes

pekorosu · 5 years ago

Text

just a lil “if ash lived” headcanon that i need to unload somewhere bc i've been holding it in for a long time

- set within the manga ‘verse

- takes place when ash and eiji are in their early 30s... so around the mid 1990s?

- i don’t get the weird animanga trope where older = longer hair, so they’re gonna look the same... maybe with slightly shorter hair bc they get regular haircuts now

- (note: i've always interpreted long-haired eiji as symbolic of the fact that he couldn't move on from ash��s death)

- ash and eiji will continue living in the states, idk if still in NYC or somewhere else. they’ll move around a lot though.

- ash will mostly remain underground as he had to fake his death after lao’s stab, but he does it in a "hiding in plain sight" kind of way. only a handful of people know he’s still alive.

- ash spends most of his time on the computer, mostly coding, hacking, being a nerd, among other fun stuff.

- he also takes on “jobs” anonymously, and occasionally from max (who’s still into investigative journalism) when he needs info that can only be obtained through Dubious Means.

- i also like to think that ash's a bit of a hacker robin hood lol. but he isn’t doing it purely out of the goodness of his heart, as part of it is a subconscious need to atone for his “sins” and cleanse the gnawing and persistent feeling of shame that gets amplified when he’s around eiji.

- also whatever he’s up to these days would ofc still be Highly Dangerous and Illegal, but it keeps him busy and would sate the part of him that’s still hungry for adrenaline without him having to engage in stuff like active bloodshed or substance abuse. basically that’s how i imagine he’d try to cope with life the only way he knows.

- eiji continues to do photography and other part time gigs bc he does not like the idea of mooching off ash forever, and he slowly makes a name for himself.

- ash and eiji live together but they are NOT together in a romantic sense... not yet >:)

- therefore eiji will probably date other people in the meantime, which gets a little troublesome bc it's not like he can bring them home to where his secret Very Important Friend is secretly hiding.

- ash will maybe have one-night stands every now and then. or not. idk. this isn’t a very important detail.

- anyway there will be lots of clueless but mutual pining :)

- ash especially, is of the opinion that they should start living separately bc someone will eventually track him down, maybe someone who has a past or present grudge on him. combined with his current activities, it’s only a matter of time before eiji would unwittingly get dragged into his problems again.

- eiji is v adamantly against that plan bc he's sorta developed a debilitating sense of paranoia that ash might just get killed somewhere while he’s not looking. not that ash isn’t paranoid either, but his insecurities often tip the scale over to “eiji is safer away from me” than “with me”.

- basically they’re doing their whole “stay. no, leave. no, stay” dance all over again, but like, dragged out over MANY YEARS.

- you thought eiji’s letter would’ve cleared up any crossed wires?

- HELL NO

- like yea, there was probably a beautiful honeymoon period of about a year or two after they reunited, before their respective trauma and issues started creeping in and fucking things up again.

- esp on ash’s end, i think he’d engage in a lot of self-sabotage. and eiji is only human, he has his own limits and baggage too.

- there will be a government conspiracy plotline but on a smaller scale compared to canon that i am unfortunately not knowledgeable enough to worldbuild on, but it will probably have something to do with cybercrime/cyberterrorism/stuff like that bc it needs to tie in with ash's hacking shenanigans.

- i've heard that sing ends up becoming some sorta political big shot in yasha? idk, i haven't read it myself, but since china’s rising status was mentioned in GoL i imagine the plot should relate to that somehow.

- therefore sing would also get to be in this story!

- i guess this means yut-lung would come into the picture at some point as well, and it would be a good opportunity for a redemption arc but i haven’t given it much of a thought bc i’m indifferent to his character orz SORRY.

- look i can’t do plot, but i am basically envisioning a political thriller with a side of slow burn romance (wait, you mean like a rehash of canon?)

- i’m thinking max is the one who kicks off the story by bringing something fishy to ash, and they just end up uncovering more and more and MORE stuff as they keep going.

- so for like 80% of the story, ash and eiji will be separated bc ash will be busy spying or infiltrating something... and being at the center of Plot Things, while max and eiji will be more on the outside dealing with the journalist side of things. i’m fond of max-ash interactions but i’m also REALLY CURIOUS about max-eiji’s dynamic :D

- meanwhile sing will be like, half in and half out i imagine. he's versatile like that lol

- ...i did NOT mean that in a dirty way

- anyway, this will provide ash and eiji ample space to work out their issues separately, as i think living in close quarters for so many years has actually been aggravating them. ofc those issues don’t get 100% resolved by the end, but some time apart from each other to cool off and spend with other people should provide a bit of perspective.

- i want ash to make some NEW FRIENDS (!!!) that are on the same wavelength as him bc there’s only so much that he can tell eiji and i’m sure he gets rather lonely, so there will be OCs that he will meet in the middle of Plot Things.

- ash will get trapped at some point. preferably with sing so they can have a much needed heart-to-heart talk. they’ll have a lot to hash out, ranging from the events in BF, shorter’s and lao’s death, all the way to ash’s love life.

- btw i like the idea of eiji and sing being close drinking buddies who confide in one another but ash is kinda, justalittle, not very happy about that LOL

- i mean, it's not like eiji can confide in ash when ash is the topic at hand, ya get me? as for sing, he’s similar to ash in the sense that they live dangerous lives, so i imagine he just finds it nice to be able to hang out with someone mundane like eiji every now and then.

- not to say that ash and sing aren’t talking to each other at all, but i think they’d have a bit of a rift between them. sing probably does feel some resentment, both at ash for killing lao AND at himself bc he knows deep down that given a choice, he would’ve saved ash over his own brother. ash can sense that tortured vibe, so eiji’s like their middle man. AND THAT’S WHY THEY NEED A HEART-TO-HEART TALK

- (SIDE NOTE: i want akira to have a role in this too. i actually have a separate headcanon that happens prior to this story... kinda like an alternate GoL?

akira goes to the states to visit eiji, but ash is also there, yeah? akira and ash start out sorta prickly with each other bc ash is all weird and standoffish and always cooped up in his room. she probably mistook him as a jobless model mooching off eiji at first since 1) eiji and ibe have never spoken about him back in japan (cuz he’s supposed to be dead), 2) why would eiji be living with some random hot guy? unless they met during one of his photography gigs? right???

and then she ends up witnessing them in the middle of a tiff, which makes her not like ash even more bc HOW DARE HE YELL AT POOR OKUMURA-SAN??? UNGRATEFUL JERK!!!

but over the course of her visit, she snoops around learns a bit about their history and gathers hints as to why their r’ship is kinda strained. also ash and akira somehow end up bonding (reluctantly) over their emotional insecurities and part on a friendly rivalry to win over eiji’s affections (which eiji is completely oblivious to. also akira may have been 100% serious but ash was just jokingly playing along with her (OR WAS HE???)). anyway long story short, ash teaches akira some cool tech/IT stuff along the way so that leads to her gaining an interest in the field.

she won’t be able to do much in this story, but a minor role would be cool :)

^ a lighthearted gyoza-making scene amid all the angst)

- (SIDE NOTE #2: i ALSO want cain to feature in this, but bc canon provided very little bg info on him it’s hard for me to figure out where he’d fit. but i suppose that’s precisely why it would be great to include him, since i can just make up my own backstory! lol. for now, i think he should be connected to one of the new OCs to make him more central to the plot. or heck, he can be involved himself! ...yeah, i’m just salty about how cain was treated more like a convenient plot device compared to the other major side characters. we barely know anything about him even though he was one of ash’s most trusted allies. #caindeservedbetter2k20)

- anyway, back to the main story. ash (and his new "friends") barely escape where they’re held hostage. ash would be rusty with combat now as he’s spent the past few years doing only stealth work and being rather sedentary.

- so there’ll be lotsa old man!ash jokes like them poking fun at him whenever he complains about his back hehe

- when they finally emerge outside they find themselves in the middle of nowhere! they then hijack a passing pickup truck and do a roadtrip back to civilisation. ROAD TRIP FTW

- at this point, quite some time has already passed and ash even has a fuzzy beard and mane and all. he’s standing at the back of the truck with a small smile on his face and the wind blowing in his hair, thinking GONNA GO BACK AND SEE EIJI, MISS HIM LOADS, HELL YEA

- (bonus: this song and this scene is the catalyst for this entire headcanon btw)

(drew this about a year ago. i was trying to imitate the manga’s art style... and the ash i had in my mind was a little different. i’m too lazy to redraw, but he’s fuzzier now okay! MORE FUZZ! like an actual freakin LION!)

- meanwhile, eiji and max will get into some deep shit around this point?

- eiji in the pic above was me imagining that the Bad Guys had tossed some damning evidence (eg. severed body part?) on the ground like “ash’s dead/ash’s in a lot of danger now so hand over all the info u have”

- and eiji and max are like. SHOOKETH

- this would be the 3rd time ash has “died” after all, and as they say... 3rd time's the charm...

- eiji almost gives in, but then max spits in their face like fuck no and then... yeah. they get beat up and taken away or something lol

- EDIT: hmm... what if the Bad Guy is someone IN the government, and he uses his power to get eiji and max arrested for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive (ash). and then ash has to rescue them... JAILBREAK STYLE

- also it might be cool to introduce ash's mom somewhere in this story... maybe SHE'S the villain! mwahaha *drama intensifies*

- anyways they will get saved by ash and gang bc that’s just the way things go, BUT! only on the condition they already made it out at least 80% of the way bc GODDAMN IT👏LET👏EIJI👏BE👏BADASS👏FOR👏ONCE👏

- (that is, after he overcomes the initial shock of ash possibly being dead again... again...... again............)

- there will ofc be moments of “oh my god, you’re okay” "i thought i lost you...!"

- something like this, because one can never have enough cheesy reunion scenes

- this will eventually lead to REVELATIONS (of the romantic kind, yes)

- buuuut they will never say "i love you" directly to each other bc ash is too emotionally constipated and eiji is too japanese. it's okay, they will communicate it through heated stares 👀

- i would love for there to be a scene where they have to be separated again for Plot Reasons and ash sorta hesitantly goes all "...will you wait for me?" as a direct parallel to canon!eiji's "i'll be waiting" and it’s like,

- FINALLY!

- FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! ash has finally allowed himself to ask for this, to let himself want it!

- and eiji would be like OF COURSE I WILL YOU BIG DUMMY, ALWAYS AND FOREVER

- but i think it'd be hilarious if eiji pops up while ash's in the middle of the final showdown and ash's like WTF I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME and eiji's like I WAS WORRIED OKAY YOU WERE TAKING SO LONG

- idk how this is supposed to end...

- oh wait! since the plot is government-related, maybe Someone will be able to pull strings to wipe out ash’s criminal record (past and present) and give him a brand new 100% legal identity, as thanks for his efforts? or maybe ash (or sing) just does it himself somewhere along the way LOL. anyway, he’ll be able to start over with a fresh clean slate and finally work on recovery FOR REAL NOW. yes this is a happy ending AND it didn’t require him to go to japan /flips off canon

- ...i realise it’s never going to be that simple but W H A T E V E R

- (also they probably will visit japan in the future with that shiny new passport... gotta meet the in-laws and all y’know)

- who do i gotta pay to write this cheesy self-indulgent fic for me

#since tumblr is for talking to myself that is exactly what im gonna do now #a very long self-indulgent post //#banana fish

139 notes · View notes

xenbiology · 5 years ago

Text

ABOUT

Hello! My name is Professor Alem; though you may simply call me Alem or Professor! My pronouns are they/them. I’m a biologist and author who studies and breeds Xen fauna and their history and relationship with humans. I mainly deal with headcrabs and their domestication, and have even bred a few new types myself! This picture is of me and Paz, a new pattern I am working on :)

I created this blog because I wish to share the information and make it more widely accessible to a human audience, and to answer any questions you all may have on my work!

- ALEM

FAQ

So... what is this blog?

This is a Half-Life based askblog that takes place 200 years after the ending of Half-Life 2, and follows my headcanons of Xen biology! It’s is designed so you can send in questions, which will be answered ‘in character’ by Alem, a vortigaunt scientist. It’s also to keep track of any headcrab characters people might have made/adopted.

If you’re familiar with Professor Peach, it’s something sort of like that. Basically, you’re allowed to send in questions that are responded to by Professor Alem, a vortiguant biologist, as if you were a character in the setting. You’re also welcome to send in ‘ooc’ questions as well though!

I also just reblog a bunch of art and posts revolving around xen biology, as well as some memes and such.

This blog is intended to be 16+ because it might contain some upsetting or potentially NSFW content, but all in a biological format (discussions of animal abuse, art of meat/dissections, discussion of breeding behavior and anatomy, etc). Everything will be tagged generously. There won’t be any condoning of mentioned behavior, and no explicit porn or heavily NSFW images.

If you need anything tagged that I didn’t, please let me know.

So is this a roleplay blog?

Er... not exactly. It’s more of an in-character ask blog. But if you have a similar blog, I wouldn’t be opposed to interacting.

Am I allowed to use these headcanons?

Yes, go ahead! I would be thrilled to see anyone using any of these, or even something based off of these. You’re allowed to mix and match and change anything you want for your own personal use. You’re free to make OCs or characters based on any of this stuff too! Make a headcrab! Make a scientist! Go crazy go stupid!

Am I allowed to do fanart / fanworks of _____?

Yes!!!! You’re 100% welcome to draw (or write about, or.. whatever) Alem, any of Alem’s crabs, your own takes on anything or any biology, or just. Anything from or inspired by this blog! I would love to see it!

If you do, please DM it to me- I don’t check my email often, and don’t see @’s! I don’t mind at all!

Who’s the mod?

Hello! My name is Rhi / Bees / Toad, and I’m the mod here behind Prof. Alem! My pronouns are they/them, please. I’m 21, neurodivergent, nonbinary, and going to college for zoology babey!

I run this blog because I think headcrabs are neat, and I love to worldbuild, especially when it comes to biology! You might recognize some of my art and ideas from my other blogs, listed below.

Main || @toadsong

Half Life / HLVRAI Sideblog || @black-mesa-slut-voice

Art Sideblog || @bees-draws

If you have any questions for me, feel free to send in an ask! Please specify that it’s either directly to me or OOC however, so I know not to answer as Alem!

What exactly is the setting here?

As I mentioned, this blog takes place 200 years after the events of Half-life 2. It sort of... diverges a bit from canon there, since we never got a full conclusion to the story, but this world is working under the assumption that the resistance managed to drive off the Combine from earth, and humanity started to rebuild... but now has alien neighbors and creatures.

Vortigaunts are seen as normal residents and have just as many rights as humans, and it’s not uncommon for them to mingle together as complete equals. Though vortigaunts didn’t used to have names, they must at least legally choose a name to put on paperwork; and many vorts choose to use it for the ease of humans around them, since they’re not tapped into the vortessence.

A lot of animals are extinct in this universe due to the Combine, which is part of why aliens as pets and livestock is much more common. There’s also several new and synthetic species created in the absence of some, which were made by humanity thanks to leftover Combine knowledge.

Technology is roughly in the modern-day level, though some knowledge is more advanced than today’s thanks to leftover Combine tech, and some knowledge is less advanced or lost completely thanks to the destruction of information databases by the Combine. But roughly 2020′s level tech!

Where’s Gordon/Barney/Alyx/etc?

Unfortunately, despite the tech advances, immortality hasn’t been invented yet, and most people can’t live for 200+ years. They’re long passed by now... though the vortigaunts never truly let them be forgotten. Thanks to the vortessent hivemind, Alem knows them just as well as any other vortigaunt knew them. You’re welcome to ask them questions, though they may not be comfortable answering. I have lots of headcanons on them as well, which I might sprinkle in, lol.

RULES

Do not interact with this blog if you’re a bigot. This means do not interact if you’re LGBT+phobic of any kind, antisemetic, a nazi, anti-blm, pro-cop/’blue lives matter’, racist, ‘pro-ship’/pedo/MAP, etc. This includes transphobia, biphobia, and panphobia. If you’re nasty you know who you are. Get outta here!

On that note- despite the warning above, this blog will not particpiate in any political discussion or drama. I simply do not want nasty people interacting with this blog. If you want to discuss anything, at the very least, go to my main/sideblogs. The exception of this is if I reblog something from a nasty person/source- I try to do a brief check of who I reblog from, but sometimes I’m tired or lazy. If you notice content come from a questionable blog, let me know, and I’ll remove it!

Please try not to send in overly explicit or horny questions. Though this blog may discuss mature themes, such as discussions of breeding behavior and anatomy, it’s not going to be horny in nature.

Be aware that if your question is ‘in character’, Alem may refuse to answer it. Unless you’re a recurring person or someone they feel comfortable with, don’t send anything overly weird or personal. Alem is a professional, and is always more than happy to share things they know (sometimes too much), but even they have a line they won’t cross sometimes. On the other hand, even if Alem might not answer it, I probably will! I love to answer questions, even more than Alem :D

#ooc

10 notes · View notes

noctuascion · 5 years ago

Note

Got another cryptage prompt if you feel like writing 💕: there’s been quite a lot of Mirage taking care of Crypto, so I propose to you Crypto taking care of Mirage 👏🏻 Elliott is either sick or injured or just feeling particularly depressed and Tae helps comfort and help him. Does his best to cook Elliott some food, make sure he’s comfy and resting, tend his wounds/get him some tissues/cuddle him. Just crypto loving and taking extra care of his boyfriend when he needs it 🥺

Mirage deserves to be pampered as well. Crypto wouldn't mind. But thank you for the prompt!! I'll totally write this for you. 💞✨

Elliott Witt is a brilliant man. He could explain the intricacies of his holographic tech without issue, discuss other types of technology with an expert mind, and was capable of tricking his opponents with a well-placed decoy and hiding within the shadows.

Elliott Witt is also an idiot. He's nearly caught the entire kitchen on fire, broke Park's incredibly expensive laptop (he definitely paid for that in numerous ways) by tangling his legs in a blanket and falling on it, and his moments of stupidity are only doubled whenever he's on a team with Octavio, which causes issues aplenty with whoever they're paired up with (Park is usually the unlucky third member, and he always ends up just on the verge of hitting them with a rock).

Perhaps that is why Elliott had ended up where he currently is, put on temporary bedrest due to a broken ankle, a sprained wrist, a couple broken ribs, and a minor concussion.

Octavio had been trying a new stunt out just outside the drop ship. Ajay had yelled at him not to, but the daredevil didn't appear to care any. The stunt consisted of avoiding an arc star whilst riding a grocery kart through a ring of fire as he was holding a watermelon. Frankly, absolutely no one understood why he was doing that—just that he was doing that.

Surprisingly enough, though, it all appeared to be going as planned, the jump performed almost flawlessly and the arc star avoided without much issue with the watermelon still intact. Octavio just hadn't thought about Park and Elliott coming home early from grocery shopping.

The look on Park's face when Octavio collided with Elliott at such high speeds was enough to rival a man who just witnessed a bomb go off in a hospital.

Elliott couldn't quite remember everything that happened. He remembered Park kneeled over him, trying to keep him from falling unconscious. He had no idea where Octavio was, what happened to him, just that he was in a lot of pain and that, for some reason, Park looked a lot like an angel, haloed by the sun above him. It was definitely the image he wanted to die to.

He was still unsure if he fell unconscious or if he just didn't remember anything, but he definitely remembers waking up in the hospital wing, Octavio laughing beside him as Ajay angrily scolded him for being irresponsible. It was all fun and games until someone actually got hurt—and someone innocent at that.

Park had been at his bedside, watching as the two argued, but he immediately moved to look at his boyfriend when he woke up. He looked relieved, asking if he was okay, the typical worried boyfriend things.

Taking up a bed in the medical bay didn't suit the trickster, so he was very carefully moved to his room, where he could get rest and ease the anxiety he felt being around so many needles and beeping machines.

The trickster was laid out in his bed, watching TV. There wasn't anything interesting on, so he wasn't exactly retaining any actual information provided on the screen. There was a strange aspect of the whole thing that felt… lonely, like he was forcefully isolated. He got visitors (everyone signed his cast—well, except Revenant, Alexander, and Park), but he still felt all alone in his room, nothing to keep him company aside from his merchandise.

Company soon walked in his room in the form of his boyfriend, the man carrying a few bags that contained whatever he purchased from the store, sporting a tank top and slacks that gave him a lazy but cute look. Elliott preferred tank tops on his lover: it was easier to hug him without a big jacket on; plus, he had cute arms.

"Hey, sugar smack," Elliott greeted, trying to shift into a sitting position without causing pain. The grunt and grimace of discomfort was enough of an indicator that it didn't go too well. "Ow. Okay, not trying that again. Uh, whatcha got there?"

"Try to sit still. You won't get any better moving like that." Park set the bags on the floor beside the other's bed, sitting on the edge himself. "Here," he then said, rustling through the bags, "you haven't eaten today, so I brought you stuff."

"'Stuff,' huh? What kinda stuff?"

"Food stuff."

"… Not butt stu—?"

Park smacked a hand over Elliott's mouth, letting out a sigh. "No. You have broken bones and a sprained wrist and you still think about that?"

Elliott gently pried Park's hand away from his mouth with his good one, sporting that usual charming smile of his. "When am I ever not? But, for real, whatcha got, shortcake?"

Rolling his eyes, the hacker slipped his hand out of the trickster's and returned to the bags. A vine of washed black grapes was produced, followed by a bottle of chocolate milk that had Elliott feeling better already.

"Oh shit. Choccy milk."

"… Yes. Choccy milk."

He set the bottle on the nightstand, holding the grapes up and plucking one from the vine. Before Elliott could reach out to accept it, the hacker surprised him by gently pressing it against his lips. There was a notable look of surprise on the trickster's face, eyes widened with brows raised ever-so-slightly.

Meanwhile, Park's face was growing more and more like a tomato, his usual look of sheepishness creeping onto his features. Initiating romantic gestures wasn't the hacker's forte, lacking any real knowledge on how exactly to do it without looking like a bumbling idiot, but every effort was enough for Elliott. It made him smile, even when the other messed it up completely. He wasn't perfect, as much as Park wishes he was, but it never mattered to him.

Right now, all that mattered was indulging in this sweet gesture provided, opening his mouth up to invite the berry inside. Before he bit into it, he decided to tease the other a bit by nipping on one of the synthetic fingers belonging to his lover. As expected, he pulled away almost instantaneously, face scarlet and glaring at the amused trickster.

"You're gross."

"Mmhm."

"And you're weird."

"Yup."

"… You're the worst."

Elliott chuckled, chewing on the grape with satisfaction drawn all across his visage. "You're so cute."

"Eat your grapes, you idiot."

For a little while longer, Park fed the other, Elliott eating up the attention (and food) without complaint, content to not have to lift a finger. He also drank a bit of the provided chocolate milk, but Park hadn't helped him drink it, probably because Elliott can only see that ending with it being poured all over his shirt.

After the small snack, the hacker leaned over Elliott's prone form, hands reaching up to gently cup his cheeks, and pressed a small kiss to his forehead, the trickster relishing in the affectionate contact so rarely given by his shy lover. It was always enough to make him smile.

"Gibraltar was making lunch for everyone," Park said once he moved to press his forehead against Elliott's, thumbs gently rubbing against his cheekbones. "I'll grab you something from the kitchen, okay?"

"Make sure you grab something for yourself, baby." Elliott's hand moved to gingerly wrap around Park's waist, his own lips pressing a kiss to the other's nose. "Just 'cause you're watching after me doesn't mean you shouldn't watch after yourself."

"I will."

"Good! 'Cause, if you don't, I'll get out of this bed and throw you back in the kitchen until you eat something."

"And hurt yourself more?" Park scoffed in amusement before finally detaching from the holographic expert, rising from the bed. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Be back quicker. I already miss you." A dramatic arm laid over Elliott's forehead, head tilting back slightly and expression displaying a faux sorrow. "It's so lonely here without you, my love."

"Whatever you say."

Elliott watched as the surveillance expert left the room, leaving him to relax in his mattress and enjoy the rest of his chocolate milk.

It took awhile for Elliott's injuries to fully heal, for his wounds to mend, but, the entire time, Park was at his bedside, providing food, company, and whatever care requested of him. Once he was healed and feeling better, however, Park had immediately offered to go out on a date (he never invited the man out for dates!) with the other, his voice, and Elliott, not one to pass up such excellent opportunities, requested the movies.

It wasn't a perfect date by any means, since Elliott accidentally walked into a glass door that caused his nose to bleed, but Park was there, tissue in hand, and holding back his chuckles Elliott wouldn't trade the man for anything in the world; he's probably the only person alive who'd deal with him for as long as he has and still nurture an injured nose as well.

"Y'know, I think you're actually an angel," the trickster had said with his head tilted back, feeling the other's half-synthetic hand run through his hair, the other holding a napkin to his nose and applying pressure.

"Mm. Am I now? I think I'm just used to your moronic tendencies."

"All right, jerk. See if I'll ever take care of your bloody nose."

"You won't have to, because I'm not stupid enough to walk into glass doors."

"Ouch, babe. My pride."

#and then crypto walked into a door and broke his nose #lmao #anyway!! thank you so much for the ask!!!#i'm SO sorry this took so long ahhh #i just hadn't been feeling the desire to write #i'll try to get these out quicker chjsjw #also long post #becausd i physically cannot use the 'read more' function #please impliment it tumblr #apex legends #crypto #tae joon park #mirage #elliott witt #cryptage #lenardo does a write

59 notes · View notes

whispersafterdusk · 5 years ago

Text

Lost in Time - ch 5

"OW - son of a bi-"

Selene looked up in a hurry at the sound of an electric discharge and Eli's cut off swearing. "Are you all right?"

The Dubei woman had the thumb of one hand in her mouth, was holding two wires apart with the other, and was glaring into an open power panel; they were down on floor...was it 37 or 38? At this point the builder had honestly lost count, and she knew from Pauline's report that this place had a total of 85 floors (with 19 of them being in the shaft they used to get in and out of this place - everything else was deep underground).

"Found a bare spot the hard way," Eli grumbled. "Hand me that epoxy and I'll get it covered." ((Continued below cut))

Selene pulled the battered jar out of her toolbox and passed it over; over the last two weeks Eli had been steadily getting stronger, and was beginning to focus on guiding them on doing repairs down here to get at least auxiliary power levels restored -- she'd been blunt by stating not everything would work, or it wouldn't work properly, with just "aux level" but it would at least let them get through every door so they could locate all the skeletons and get them out of here.

Gale had been very adamant that he only wanted a select few knowing Eli existed, for now; at first Selene had expected to be moving slowly through here without Merlin and Petra but with Eli here knowing which doors should go where, what wires were supposed to go to what, and how to hook things up... Selene loved Old World tech - she loved learning about it, she loved thinking about new ways to use it, she loved recreating or re-inventing gadgets mentioned in the old data discs and piecing together broken relics from the past. She was used to having to do it all piece by piece but having Eli here was just...it was fantastic. It was amazing. Eli knew SO MUCH-

-and it was a constant reminder to keep herself in check because while Eli was direct and honest (or at least seemed to be) when it came to answering questions, Selene had a suspicion that she was on...what was the word...she'd seen it in an old--

Autopilot. That was it. Eli was on autopilot.

And Selene could understand why. It had to be terrible, to stand in the ruins of a city you'd grown up in and loved, to not know what had happened the day she and her comrades had been attacked, and to know that everything else was completely gone - ancient history. Wiped off the map. Not even gravestones left to visit (and she knew how THAT felt - Remington didn't talk about his time in the Lucien Civil Corps much but she knew about his friend who had sacrificed himself to save him...it was very important to Remington to visit that grave every year).

Part of her hoped that, at some point in the near future, Eli would consider someone a close enough friend to open up to -- maybe she was already talking to Dr. Xu about...uh, things? Hopefully that would help; she'd just need to pay attention and see if that autopilot-y, single mindedness relaxed in the future, or maybe that was just a soldier thing? Or maybe just an Eli thing...Higgins could be pretty single minded (if you got in his way or distracted him he tended to metaphorically run you over to get back to what he was doing) so it could be just how Eli was. Or maybe just how people in the Old World were, in general.

Well. Whatever the reason, whether it was Eli's personality or an Old World thing or a soldier thing, Selene still had to keep reminding herself not to get carried away and bombard her with questions (and hopefully Merlin and Petra, when they were allowed to meet her, would show the same restraint). There was still a good chance the woman was just numbed to her circumstances and going through the motions - the less Selene drew attention to everything that was gone, the better (she hoped).

One thing Selene did appreciate as Eli answered questions was the total lack of smugness, or superiority, or pity, or disgust, or -- well, a lot of things. She was...nice, and incredibly helpful, about anything they asked her. If their lack of technology bothered her on a level deeper than the occasional annoyance she showed when she had to figure out how to adapt a tool or route around something they didn't have the tech needed to fix, she definitely was good at hiding it. At first Selene had felt a little embarrassed to be in the woman's presence considering the knowledge gap but not so much anymore.

As Eli daubed the epoxy over the exposed wire she'd shocked herself on a faint scent of freshly melted plastic filled the air; Selene turned back to the panel in front of her -- Eli was handling the door, and she needed to get the lights on. Once they'd swept this floor for skeletons (there were at least 12 unaccounted for when compared to Pauline's logs) they'd move on to the next one, and then the next one, until they reached floor 72 where the All Source AI's installation was where they'd then need to power him and get more in-depth access to...pretty much everything. Eli wanted full administrative control along with all security, hazard, and damage logs -- the woman was confident that once they had their hands on all of that they could move forward with repairs and taking inventory of what was left down here and what was functional.

Dr. Xu had already expressed interest in any remaining medical information and equipment; Petra and Merlin were eager to speak to another All Source AI and see what they could learn from it -- how different would THIS All Source ("his" name was Stewart, apparently) be from Wendy at the Research Center? That there were different types of All Source AIs was recent knowledge gained from Ack and Wendy both; what little Eli had mentioned made it sound like every building in the Old World had had an All Source in it...how weird was it that something so commonplace to her was something so remarkable to them now in Portia?

...oh. Not just Portia. If word got out that there was another All Source... That would be a problem. Selene vaguely remembered Arlo even mentioning something along those lines but it hadn't sunk in until just now.

"-what kind of security systems did All Source AIs have?" she asked into the silence.

"High-level encryption, voice imprints, genetic imprints, passwords and passkeys... Kind of depended on what level and type of AI you had," Eli answered, sounding distracted. There was a long pause before she screwed the epoxy jar shut. "-an AI that ran just a house or business wouldn't necessarily need a lot of security built in but a lot of people tended to buy the best packages just in case. There's not a machine on the-- uh...not a machine left on the planet, that can't be hacked into."

Selene looked up from the wiring at that, brow furrowing - 'hacked' was a term she wasn't familiar with. "What's that?"

"It's...uh... Do you know what coding or programing is?"

Selene nodded at her. "Yep - Mr. Ack explained a little bit about programming and how his works."

Now it was Eli's turn to look confused. "Mr. Ack...?"

"Mmhmm - he's a living AI that lives here in Portia. He's a cook."

Eli stared at her blankly for a moment, then tossed the pliers in her hand back into the toolbox. "Wait wait wait...a living AI is still functional after all this time?"

"He's pretty banged up but he's functional, yeah. He came out of a space station thingy that crashed out in the Collapsed Wasteland."

"Huh... Can we get him here, ASAP?"

"I...uh. Maybe? I know he has a grill set up in the plaza and is staying at the Happy Apartments so he's pretty easy to find. Why?"

"Having an AI interface directly with the All Source AI down here will make getting administrative control a lot easier -- this Ack will be able to fill the All Source in on the state of the world in an instant compared to us having to explain it ourselves."

"I can ask the mayor if he minds if Ack learns about you. I'm pretty sure Ack wouldn't tell anyone."

Eli was silent for a moment, working with the wires in front of her; with a grating noise and a pop the door finally slid open. "There we go. And I'd like it if someone would fill me in on why the mayor is being secretive about me."

Selene blew out a sigh - Gale hadn't outright admitted any reasons but she could guess. "Well... A couple of reasons, I think. A lot of people don't like Old World "stuff" -- they think we're better off without it and the Research Center, and sometimes even me, we get threatening messages from people. The center has been broken in to a couple of times too, some things stolen and a few things sabotaged, and someone once torched the warehouse down in the harbor to protest Portia expanding."

"Right. So I'm basically anathema to certain townsfolk. Go on."

"...anathema?"

"Forget I said it. Keep on with your explanation."

Selene nodded and, before responding, touched the last two wires together. The lights spluttered on but were dreadfully dim; she clicked off her headlamp and Eli did the same. "-so there's going to be people who aren't going to like you, because they hate the Old World. And there's also um...there's a war about to break out, between Duvos and the Alliance. And Duvos is always looking to take, steal, or recreate technologies from the past that will let them take over the world."

Eli let out a loud snort. "Oh good. I get blown out of the start of one war and face-first into another."

"No no, we wouldn't expect you to FIGHT a war on our behalf, no," Selene went on hurriedly. "I just think that...I think the mayor may think Duvos would try to kidnap you. Or maybe people would think you'd go join up with them since they have Old World tech and that's what you're used to. Or something."

"Not happening, on either account," Eli grunted. She picked up a few screwdrivers and a pair of wire snips and returned them to the toolbox, then shut the lids of both the toolbox and the power stone device she'd just wired to the door. "This 'Duvos' would be biting off more than they could chew if they came to town - especially if they came for ME."

Selene smiled a bit. "I don't want that to happen, even if it'd be a bad idea on their part."

"What or where is this Duvos?"

"It's a country - they call themselves an empire - up to the north. They border Ethea and Meidi, and technically a border of The Peripheries touches their border. They've been fighting in and around Lucien and Ethea too...those poor people."

"And all of that is to our north?"

"Yeah. Also up there is Barnarock but they don't share borders with Duvos. Then below that strip is us in the Alliance of Free Cities - that includes Lucien, Highwind, Atara, Sandrock, Portia, Walnut Groove, Tallsky at the southern tip, and a little kind-of-island in the Western Sea called Vega 5. The Peripheries are to our west, and beyond THOSE is the Great Begeondan...but it's hard to get there because the Peripheries is full of monsters. There's also Seesai but they're really, really far away."

As she fell silent again she could almost see the wheels spinning in Eli's head as the woman thought -- maybe she was making a mental map of what she remembered compared to what she was just told. ...actually.

"Do any of those names sound familiar?"

It was a few moments before Eli replied. "Sort of. Meidi and Seesai both sound like places that I kno- that I knew. Meidia was so far south it was snow-covered year round. Seisan was right on the equator. They were known for fruit exports and amazing seafood dishes the likes of which you couldn't get anywhere else."

"Seesai is sort of known for seafood too. Maybe it's a name that got carried through the years."

"Maybe."

Behind them the elevator whirred to life and a few minutes later it opened to let Higgins out; he was wheeling several crates on a dolly and was huffing and puffing like he was out of breath. He steered the dolly up to Selene and let it fall forward with a loud thud. "Here. All that I could collect. It's mostly the blue ones."

Eli nodded and carefully got up from where she sat, using her cane to sort of leverage herself onto her feet. "That's fine. We won't need to leave the power hooked up on every floor, just enough of them to get access to a couple of things."

Higgins rubbed his hands together, looking up and down the hallway; the lights Selene had managed to get on were holding in there but alongside the dimness a few were flickering now - it was just barely bright enough to see what they were doing. "--so what are we doing next?"

Selene swore she saw Eli almost, but not quite, hide an eyeroll.

"Same thing we've done on each floor," the woman replied, her tone patient but bordering on the edge of the tone you'd use when talking to a small child. "Get doors open, sweep for remains, move on."

Higgins wrinkled his nose. "I was hoping you two would've found everyone by now."

"Pauline couldn't get access to personnel tracking logs," Selene sighed, giving Higgins an annoyed look. "She only knows who didn't get out but not where they were last." They'd told him this three times now... Was he really that distracted with a need to start salvaging and emptying this place's resources?

He huffed. "This is taking forever. Why don't I take-"

"-because you don't know how to wire this up and you won't sit still long enough for me to teach you," Eli interrupted. That patient tone was gone now. "If you aren't willing to learn and put the work in then I'm not cutting you lose to wander around. We still don't know where those people are or what even killed them -- I don't care to repeat myself nor do I care for people to try and undermine or circumvent my instructions, and I KNOW you were told about the hazardous materials log because I was there for that meeting. Whether you like it or not whatever got released could still be down here and I'd rather you not blunder into it and get yourself killed."

"But this could take days," Higgins grumbled. "I have so much other work I could be doing right now."

Eli's expression went...well, Selene could only describe it as that sort of look you got when someone's said something stupid and you were too polite to say something directly but not polite enough to simply smile and ignore it. "Then go. Selene and I can handle things now that you got the power stones down here. Let Remington know on your way out that it's just us two. We'll be fine."

Higgins rolled his eyes and turned, heading toward the elevator. "I'll let them know."

They waited together in silence until the sound of the elevator's rumbling was too far away to hear.

"He's such an ass..." Selene growled. She turned her attention to Eli. "I'm sorry. Arlo didn't want him involved either but Gale didn't think I could handle this entire place by myself."

"You couldn't. And really, WE can't. But I'll work myself unconscious before I let that sort of man anywhere near my people," Eli said quietly. "Can't stand the person who won't put in the work but expects to reap the rewards regardless. Can the Civil Corps folks bar him from entering here?"

"The funny thing is he's a really hard worker...just pretty driven to do one thing and one thing only: keep his shop at the top of the regional leader boards. If it's not related to that he doesn't have much interest in it. And as for the Civil Corps they...technically could, I think? At least temporarily. A final decision would be up to Gale but I'm not sure if he would -- all ruins in Portia are open to anyone who pays the weekly fee to go inside and scavenge. I don't think he'd like to be in the position to ban a single person in town from coming in here...it'd be a rather touchy precedent, and might make him look like he's playing favorites."

Eli grunted, and leaned against the stack of crates. "I don't want to see this place ripped apart without any regard to what's being taken. If we're careful we can probably salvage a lot of what's here -- I get the feeling he'd take whatever without worrying about what he's leaving behind, and probably damage things beyond repair or salvage."

Selene nodded; she traded out her screwdriver for the crowbar she'd brought with them, and the wedged the flat end into the gap between the lid and the rest of the top crate. "Not to defend him or anything but the other ruins are sort of...um. Bad. Pieces everywhere. There's not really anything there but bits and scrap that you have to piece together -- not that that excuses him, at all, but finding a place like this that's so intact is almost unheard of." She pulled down on the crowbar and could hear the squeaking of nails slowly prying lose. "--we're really going to have to lock this place down if we want to preserve anything down here," she grunted and wheezed.

With a screeching noise of metal on wood the crate lid came free and she leaned it against the wall; inside was the familiar gleam of power stones - all of them blue, at least on this top layer - nestled in cloth and sawdust to keep them from chipping in transit. A wave of annoyance washed over her as she looked them over - if these were here then that meant the brackets and wires had to be in one of the crates under it. She tossed the crowbar down and, straining and puffing, moved the heavy crate off the stack and plunked it down on the ground narrowly missing her toes.

She grabbed the crowbar again and pried the next lid off, revealing the brackets; Selene offered Eli a hand to help her sit back down between the two open crates as they both set to the task of assembling the brackets and getting the power stones set in place. They were at it about a half hour, by her estimation, when the elevator opened again and Arlo appeared in the weak light of the light fixtures (which were starting to flicker more frequently - they'd need to splice in a second bracket device to help them out).

"Everything all right down here?"

Selene nodded at him, smiling. "All good. Surprised you're down here."

Arlo came over and looked over what they were doing. "--anything I can help with? I know I'm not a builder or know much about Old World tech but I'm willing to learn."

"Remington told you, huh?" Selene asked, sighing. She scooted over as Arlo settled in the floor next to the bracket crate then rummaged around in her toolbox to find a spare screwdriver of the correct size; she handed it to him and then began to pick up the other pieces to show him how it all went together.

"He did. I can't say I'm surprised - I knew it was a bad idea to let Higgins in on this little project. We should have brought in Petra and Merlin right from the start. I just hope he takes Gale seriously and doesn't mention Eli." He paused to look over at Eli, who simply nodded at him.

"I think he knows Gale means business," Selene said. She handed him the bracket and fished out four power stones. "Ok, see those little slots there and there? Those pieces slide. Use that screwdriver to loosen them, slip the stone into the spot - one per - and then slide them back in to hold the stone tight and tighten the screw again. Then, you flip the top of the bracket over and tighten those too. I'll handle attaching the wires, don't worry."

With a nod Arlo started loosening a screw; Selene watched him for a few breaths, then "--so, can the Civil Corps handle having you down here? Won't that mess up the shift times?"

"It will but we can adjust. Everyone already knows about the ruins and we've had several inquiries on when they'll be open to explore -- Paulie's volunteered to take a couple evening shifts making sure no one comes down here and I know Gale sent a courier to the Alliance Council regarding this place."

"A courier?" Selene repeated, blinking at him. "That'll take a week or more to... Why a courier?"

Arlo slid a second stone into place before answering. "After what happened the last time, Gale doesn't want to risk someone intercepting his telegraph, or faking a response. Mint is carrying it to Atara, and will carry the response back."

Selene stole a quick look at Eli to see that she was dutifully assembling a bracket of her own (but was moving considerably faster than Arlo was).

"And was I mentioned in this message?" the Dubei woman asked then without looking up - almost like she'd known Selene was looking at her expecting a reaction.

"Probably," was Arlo's simple answer; he didn't elaborate further and the three of them continued to work in silence as they assembled the power device brackets.

She was grateful that Higgins at least hadn't skimped on screws or quality; it took another hour before they had all of them assembled and the wires attached, and then Arlo carried them up and down the hall placing one at each door as Eli and Selene each took a side and began wiring them up.

Selene found the doors to be fascinating; according to Eli every door here connected to a central server that granted or revoked access to every person in the facility -- most doors would provide access to anyone who walked up to them, opening based on detecting movement as well as weight on pressure panels in the floor beneath the carpeting. Doors with security measures would only open if it detected an access-granting object (usually cards or "key fobs," whatever those were) within a certain distance of its sensors, or else they'd require a hand or finger print on a sensor panel before it would open. And whoever had designed the doors had accounted for times where someone might need to get in somewhere they didn't have access to in a hurry; while the doors didn't have handles they DID have emergency release buttons inside the paneling beside the pocket that the doors slid into when they opened.

Being as the power for the facility was down the doors had no access to their central server so simply hooking up the power brackets she'd built wouldn't work; Eli was instead wiring the power directly to the lines that controlled the emergency releases, which would force the door to open without any sort of access key or central power. The emergency releases were a sort of 'blink and you'd miss them' object inside the walls - Selene had always seen emergency buttons or levers painted a red or otherwise bright color in the other ruins in town but these were all a uniform gray instead with the main difference being the emergency releases were capped with a dull metal that was oddly cold to the touch compared to everything around it.

And of course the emergency releases operated on battery power too when all other sources of power were off but not even the best battery could hope to last 300 years. The good thing was that once they'd used the emergency button to pop the door they could unhook the power and it'd stay open, but they were finding there were a LOT of doors down here -- that was partly why they'd made so many of the portable power stone devices so they could have (or at least the original plan had been) someone placing the devices next to doors, someone coming along to wire them, and then someone else behind THEM unhooking and collecting the devices so they could keep moving at a decent pace.

Of course, with Higgins deciding to take his leave it meant they'd need to find a third person to give them a hand... It was probably time to bring in Petra and Merlin. Petra would go wild over all this and Merlin had a steady hand when it came to delicate wiring and circuitry.

It was, as Higgins had said, going to take awhile to get through this place, but unlike him Selene didn't mind it in the slightest even if they didn't get any more help at all.

----------------------------------------------------

Django had thrown in some fruit salads for free tonight -- Xu had a hunch that the man knew something was up, as Xu had accidentally let it slip that he was paying for meals for a patient of his without the means to do so themselves; charity wasn't a strange thing in Portia - in fact, Portia's residents were well-known for their desire to help their neighbors - but he supposed the number of meals being provided had tipped Django off to this not being a typical patient. He made a mental note to ask Phyllis if she would mind manning the clinic for longer than usual so Xu himself could cook a bit more and see if that made Django less suspicious of what was going on.

...though, there wasn't any way Django could suspect WHO his patient was. Being charitable for the sake of being charitable wasn't a bad thing, and so long as he found out when the rest of Portia did Xu supposed there wasn't any harm in it.

Based on the smells coming out of the containers on his desk it seemed like Django had outdone himself tonight; there was seasoned ribs, bamboo papaya and seafood with rice, two ramekins of fish head stewed in soy sauce, and of course the fruit salads that he hadn't ordered but Django had tossed in anyway. Eli had mentioned she loved seafood and honestly so did he so aside from the ribs (protein and lots of it would be needed to help her regain lost muscle mass) he'd tried to pick a variety of things he thought she would enjoy (and if she'd disliked anything thus far she'd not mentioned it).

He looked up from the paperwork on his desk as the clinic doors opened but rather than Eli, returning from the ruins as she usually did around this time, Xu was surprised to see Gale standing in his doorway.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Xu," was the man's cheerful greeting. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all." Xu quickly stacked his papers and stood with a smile -- he'd been wondering when Gale would make an appearance here. "I'm sorry to say Eli isn't here at the moment, I'm afraid. I AM expecting her back soon though."

Gale nodded. "Ah, yes. If it's not too much of a bother I'd like to wait here."

"Of course not. Have a seat."

The portly man nodded and came over to sit on a small stool beside the desk. "-how have things been with your patient, doctor?"

"Coming along. The speed at which one regains their health can vary from person to person but she's bouncing back rather quickly."

Gale chuckled. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear that. I hope to-"

They both paused as the doors opened again and this time it was Eli standing there; Gale stood as she came in and Xu came around to the front of his desk.

"Hello, Eli - I'd like to introduce you to Portia's Mayor, Gale."

Gale moved over with a hand extended. "It's a pleasure, Miss Summers."

Something flickered over Eli's face at the word "miss" but it was gone quickly, and instead she offered her hand in turn. "Likewise, sir. I've heard a lot about you."

"Oh? I'm not sure if I should be glad or worried," Gale laughed; Eli smiled at that, at least. "-now, first of all I'd like to apologize for how long it's taken for me to come meet you personally."

"It's not a problem. Mayors are busy people."

"That's definitely true - I've been busier than usual lately, even before you were rescued. I did however want to give you a good amount of time to get your feet squarely on the road to recovery, which is why we're only just meeting now."

"Again, it's no big deal," Eli replied, shrugging. "It's not like I'm going anywhere."

Gale nodded, chuckling quietly. "Indeed, and it's my hope you'll choose to remain in Portia. And, regarding that... How DO you feel, about Portia? About remaining?"

Eli was silent for a long time; Xu watched her carefully, trying to be aware of any subtle hints in her face or body movement to suggest what she was thinking or feeling. Finally she inhaled deeply and straightened a bit where she stood. "Truth be told, sir-"

"-please, call me Gale if you like."

"-truth be told, Gale, I don't see myself leaving unless the general consensus is I'm not wanted here. Portia is sitting on top of Dubei - this is technically still home, for me. Even if it's totally unrecognizable now."

Gale's expression softened. "I understand, and of course you're welcome here. We do need to begin discussing how best to meet your needs - you'll need a place to stay, and a job, and everything else that goes with it. You'll find Portia is very helpful to her people and I know many would be happy to help get you on your feet."

Eli's smile went a bit strained. "Not everyone will, I'm told."

"...ah, well," Gale faltered a moment, looking awkward.

Xu pressed his lips together; he knew of course that there would be some in town who'd want her gone solely because she WAS Old World -- they had a hard enough time accepting any sort of Old World tech, no matter how harmless or helpful, but to have a living embodiment (at least, ANOTHER living embodiment - Ack hadn't been well received either) of the Old World walking around may be more than they'd be willing to tolerate. It was clear that Arlo or Selene, or maybe Remington, had mentioned as much to Eli already, which was a good thing for her to be forewarned about.

"No one in any position of authority will have a problem with you," Xu said into the silence. "Of that I can promise."

"Y-yes, that's true," Gale said in a rush. "Authority within the city's chain of command itself, anyway. There...MIGHT be a bit of a rub with the Church but they don't have the power to order you out of town, and if he thinks of trying it know that I won't stand for my citizens to be harassed."

Almost imperceptibly Eli's eyes narrowed at the mention of "he" in Gale's words; Xu knew exactly who that "he" was: if there was anyone who would without a doubt have a problem with Eli working and living in Portia it would be Minister Lee. Thankfully Lee was rather powerless within Portia - he could preach, guide, and advise all he liked but he held no administrative or official powers.

And with good reason -- Xu couldn't count the number of times the man had thrown a fit over Old World tech, even simple things like tools made out of new alloys, and it was suspected that he had a hand in a few of the Research Center break ins too even if no one could prove it. Xu could already picture the various shades of purple the man's face would turn as he pontificated (again) on the dangers of letting an Old World "relic" walk around.

"Duly noted," was Eli's quiet reply.

Gale took a steadying breath. "...now, then. Along with discussing how we can best help you get established here within Portia I also wanted to see how you were feeling - physically, as well as emotionally." He paused, giving her a gentle look. "I know none of this can be easy, and if there's anything in my power to help ease any burdens..."

Eli shook her head. "Not unless you've got a time machine -- and before you ask, no, we created machines that could take us to space but not ones that could take us to last week."

As she spoke Eli smiled a bit and Xu returned it to her with an encouraging nod; that she was willing to joke seemed to be a good sign.

"Well, don't hesitate to let me know if there's something I can do for you. -- oh, where are my manners. Do you need to sit down?" Gale asked, turning around quickly to look for the stool he'd just vacated. He grabbed it with both hands and plunked it down in front of Eli who sat down with a grateful look. "I'm sorry, I've been sitting all day and it escaped my mind that someone else might not want to stand."

"It's fine - I was technically sitting all day anyway. Easier to reach what we're working on."

"How is that going?" Xu asked quietly. "Do you know when you'll be done?"

Eli shook her head again, huffing a sigh out through her nose. "No. We're still missing 12, and that's only the ones that the AI Pauline had logs for. Patients or visitors wouldn't be on those logs so there may be more. I know I personally wasn't a part of that log list, and the others that were in the same sort of tubes that I was would be on patient rosters that we've yet to find."

With a thoughtful hum Gale rubbed at his chin, falling silent; Xu moved back to his desk and to the little basket that their dinner was sitting in and reached in to pull out a thermos of chilled apricot juice that he carried over and offered to Eli. She took it, opened it and sniffed, then took a careful sip; a moment later she gave him a smile and nod and took a more confident drink.

"I've marked out land to hold the remains, and intend to commission a gravestone as large as needed to hold as many names as we can find," Gale went on finally. "However, names or no we WILL be seeing that their remains are handled with care and respect until such a time that they can be laid to rest properly." He paused again and looked back to Eli. "I...don't know if this is an appropriate question to ask, considering the circumstances..."

"Burial rites, I'm assuming."

"Yes," Gale replied simply.

Eli shrugged and took another sip of juice before continuing. "I can tell you how my religion handles remains and give an idea of how others handled theirs, but there wasn't a singular religion in Dubei that had rites that everyone followed -- in fact, there were hundreds of different religions within city limits alone, and hundreds of thousands spread across the world in general. And it wasn't legal to track what employee was part of what religion either...medical centers would sometimes have that information on hand to make sure they didn't violate a religious mandate for a patient who couldn't communicate it themselves but HR departments wouldn't touch that sort of thing with a ten foot bangstick."

"Ah, yes. That makes sense. Well. When we're at the point where we're ready to lay them all to rest we'll have a discussion on how best to do that."

"Sounds like a plan."

Gale smiled, then looked to Xu briefly. "Just to double check that I'm not taking up your scheduled time...?"

"Not at all, though dinner may get cold."

"Ah. I'll get right to it then: Eli, do you have any opinion on what sort of employment you'd like to secure? I know it's been mentioned you were a soldier -- would you like a position within the Civ-"

"No," Eli interrupted quickly. "At least, not yet."

Gale blinked at her and Xu felt just as surprised as he looked.

Eli looked between the two of them, laughing quietly. "Did I just grow a second head?"

"No no, I apologize, I just wasn't -- I shouldn't have assumed," Gale sputtered.

She held up one hand in a placating gesture while holding the thermos up to her lips with the other for another drink. "Nah, you were right to assume, and believe me I think that's where I'd best fit in. But, to circle back to the earlier point of people not accepting my existence in town I don't think it'll be a good idea to place ME in a position with any sort of authority, no matter how minor, before I'm generally accepted into the community. That'll either erode trust in you and your Civil Corps or will leave me as the sole member that no one is going to listen to."

Gale pursed his lips, letting out a long breath through his nose. "I...hadn't thought about it like that. That's a very good point."

Xu hadn't thought of it framed in that light either -- she was probably right. The more he thought about it the more he worried that it would be a long time before several of Portia's townsfolk would even give her the time of day. "-what about the Research Center?" he asked into the pause.

"Yes, yes, that was my next suggestion," Gale went on hurriedly, pausing to clear his throat. "We certainly have the budget to add another research position at the Center."

Eli laughed as she screwed the top onto the (now empty, Xu assumed) thermos. "Wouldn't that be cheating? Being as I wouldn't be researching anything so much as I'd just be giving the answers away."

Gale laughed as well. "I suppose that's one way to look at it but the offer still stands: it'd be a monthly salary, enough to live on without worrying about anything. And I can just as easily create a position with the Corps for when you feel comfortable enough to step into that role."

"We'll see how that goes. Ideally that's where I end up but...well." She shrugged and set the thermos on the floor at her feet.

Xu returned to his desk as Gale moved on to discussing where Eli could stay - it sounded like an apartment at Happy Apartments would be available for her - and began jotting down thoughts as he half-listened to them talk.

Aside from the facial tics at mention of 'miss' and 'he' Eli had remained pleasant and direct, as she usually was. It was one of the few times that he'd had visual proof that Eli perhaps wasn't as well as she presented herself to be; he didn't want to pry but it was confirmation that there were things she was suppressing, and he wished she would choose to talk about them. Counseling wasn't entirely his forte but he'd received some training on how to handle mental health as well as physical health.

As Gale and Eli talked Phyllis came in; she gave them both a wave but didn't interrupt as she walked over to Xu to place a heavy leather satchel on his desk.

"The latest shipment of painkillers was delayed at Atara but everything else came through. It seems there was a pipe failure at the processing building so everyone is missing this month's orders."

Xu frowned and stood to open the satchel to look through it. "Well...I guess we'll have to be careful with what we have in stock for the time being - we aren't really using a lot of them at least." He pulled out various jars, boxes, and little vials -- Atara's specialists had never failed to get their products out before so whatever the 'pipe failure' was must have been a major problem.

At the very least Portia's residents didn't really need a lot of medicines at any given time and Xu was able to manage a lot of ailments just by using the herbs that grew naturally around the city. Gale seemed to be wrapping up whatever else he'd come to speak to Eli about so Xu was careful as he stepped around his desk and around them to head over to the cabinets to put everything away.

"--whenever Dr. Xu cuts me loose, I assume."

Hearing his own name caught his attention and he looked over a shoulder back at the others. "Hmm?"

"When do you believe Eli will be hale and hearty enough to leave the clinic, Dr. Xu?" Gale asked.

Xu thought a moment - technically, physically, she could go now. He still worried about her emotional well being however... "I would say a week or so, possibly less," he finally answered (more to give them an actual answer than because he believed what he was saying). "You are recovering your strength at a remarkable rate but you'll still dealing with bouts of weakness, correct?"

Eli nodded. "Yeah. And sometimes I feel a bit dizzy if I'm tired."

"All right, hmm. Let's meet again in about two week's time?" Gale went on, directing the last half of that to Eli. "That should give me enough time to get all pieces into place."

"Works for me."

"And for me as well," Xu agreed.

"I shall see you all then," Gale chuckled, offering Eli another handshake before heading out the door.

Eli watched him go. "...animated little fellow."

"He can get quite excited when things are going as they should," Xu chuckled. He quickly put away the rest of the supplies. "I hope you're hungry."

"Wasn't, really, until I smelled it. What're you feeding me tonight?"

Dusting off his hands he returned the leather satchel to its proper spot in the cabinet and then shut the door; as he fully turned around he caught sight of Phyllis making her way out as well. "Ah, Phyllis - would you care to join us? There's more than enough for three."

"Oh. I'd love to, then."

Xu pulled over the little rolling stool he used during examinations, and helped Eli scoot hers closer to his desk as Phyllis came back over; he offered her his chair but she took the stool instead, and as the two women seated themselves he picked up the basket and began placing the containers out on the desk, including another thermos of apricot juice. The last things he retrieved were a set of chipped plates from the bottom-most drawer of his desk and a handful of silverware.

Phyllis helped him start to portion out the food and once he was done and seated he noticed Eli poking curiously at the bamboo papaya slices. "Hmm. I tried to choose things I thought you'd be familiar with."

"It...sort of looks familiar? What is it?"

"Bamboo papaya," Phyllis answered, spearing a slice with her fork.

Eli wrinkled her nose, flipping the slice over on her plate. "Bamboo...papaya? As in both those words are the name of this...uh, plant?"

Xu nodded. "It's a tough-skinned fruit but tastes like bamboo shoots."

"Ah. So both bamboo AND this exist?"

Phyllis bit into the bite and then wiped some of the seafood sauce off to show the bamboo-like patterning of the 'fruit' inside. "It's hard on the outside but soft in the center. It even tastes like bamboo - it just has a slightly different texture."

"Huh..." Eli hummed, then took a tentative bite. "--yeah, that's bamboo all right. Weird. How did they create this? Selective crossbreeding?"

"Um...chemical and biological weapons, according to the history that survived," Phyllis answered quietly.

Xu watched as a few emotions flickered over Eli's face - surprise, anger, and then something akin to resignation.

"Ah," was all she said.

She tried a bigger bite of the bamboo papaya, then tasted the rice and shrimp; when she didn't make any faces or ask any other questions Xu took a few bites of his own and they all ate in silence for several minutes.

"I bet a lot of things I was used to eating are gone too, huh?"

"That...depends," Xu replied slowly. "We don't have any record of anything being wiped out, but there are certainly a lot of records of things changing. Though, I will say that animal life appears to have more drastically changed than plantlife did, according to our history." He studied her face and could see hesitation there -- she wanted to say or ask something but was holding back. "Did you...have something specific in mind?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Just, kind of hard to sometimes really grasp just...how much has changed."

"Would you like to talk about it?" he asked quietly. "Or, anything at all?"

"...not tonight, doctor. I don't even know where to begin."

Xu nodded. "Of course. Just know, when you choose to..."

After a couple bites she looked up and gave him a smile. "Oh trust me, Dr. Xu. There's a lot I want to talk about. I'm just not sure I want to break that particular dam open just yet, because I know once I start it's going to be hard to stop. ...and, I don't think I want to start, until I know what happened to--" she stopped abruptly, sighing heavily and lightly tapping her fork against the side of her plate. "-I really want to know what happened to Dubei. And why I was down in that facility. I know it was sheer, dumb luck that I was far enough away from the ceiling that caved in but why was I THERE? Why were there others in those tubes? Why were we left behind?"

That last question was said much quieter than the others but her general tone remained the same -- no sadness, no remorse, just a quiet frustration. Xu left his fork on his plate and clasped his hands in front of him, resting them on his desk just behind his plate. "It may be a case that you weren't purposely left behind... Didn't the logs say there was an evacuation, and a materials release? From what Arlo and Selene said, you were attached to sensors and a breathing aparatus. It sounds to me as though you, and whoever else were in those tubes, may have been in the safest place at that given moment."

"That's true." She took a steadying breath and tilted her head back, letting the air out slowly. "But then what kept them from coming back? A hazardous material release and even an armed and violent intruder alert shouldn't have kept everyone away forever. Even if -- I've mentioned how poisonous and deadly a reactor explosion would have been. The poisonous part of a reactor is called radiation, and it'd by far be the worst thing that could've been released down there and even then we have suits and..."

She stopped again, resting her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand.

"...suits?" Xu prompted gently.

"Yeah. Haz mat - hazardous materials - suits. I used radiation as an example but if it HAD been radiation then I and the others in the tube wouldn't have survived if it was enough to cause the entire building to evacuate -- regular glass, or even the tempered stuff used in most medical equipment, wouldn't have shielded us from the radiation. So that part doesn't make sense. But for the life of me I can't think of anything that would be in a medical research center that would mean EVERYONE would have to run if something leaked. Now, had it been a military base or the like I could name off sixteen different things, but...but not down there." She paused, then waved a hand. "Just speculating. But point still stands that I don't want to discuss anything until I figure out what happened."

She went back to eating; Xu did as well even though he'd lost his appetite at this point. At least they were close to her opening up; she was putting on a brave face but couldn't keep it up forever, as he suspected.

They filled the rest of the evening with idle chatter; it was mostly Eli asking questions about food and plants, and about Portia's general history and the layout of town. Xu didn't have any maps on hand and promised he'd bring her one to look at (Lucy at the school probably wouldn't mind lending him one) so she could try and match up what she remembered of the landscape to what everything looked like now. Eli was firmly back in her 'everything is fine' mentality -- no more tics or clues, just pleasantry. But now Xu had confirmation that his suspicions were correct; he'd just need to wait until Eli had her answers, then be ready to help her put the pieces together.

#Lost in Time #lit #Lost in Time - ch 5 #Arlo #Dr. Xu #Builder #Eli #Phyllis #Gale #Higgins #My Time at Portia

8 notes · View notes