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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 4 years

Note

*cracks knuckles and wiggles fingers in front of keyboard* if it's not to much to ask for mayhaps some brother's best friend with Luke where the reader's brother brings him along and they're S.O. (who hadms beef with Luke) shows up and Luke defends them when their SO makes comment about them. Overall they realize their SO is trash and Luke and them confess feelings :) Also just wanted to say how much ily and appreciate you FEEDING me and fulfilling my requests. You're a gem

Thanks for your patience while I work on this! Reader Insert (Gender neutral pronouns used).

Note: This is the last one this time. Thanks to everyone that participated and sent me requests.

Enjoy my Christmas 2020 Blurb masterlist

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Luke’s boot click as he walks up to the house. It’s familiar, one that he had grown fond of when he needed a place to crash for an hour or two after a night of drinking, or the house he would be at to drink. Because let’s be honest, he could always be a riot especially when he got linked up with friends--especially with you and your brother, but mostly your brother.

He knocks on the door, the night air just barely nipping at his hands as he tucks them back into the pockets of his leather jacket. His can hear the thump of the bass outside the house door. The Christmas decorations have started to come down. The lights remain up the the wreath is gone thanks to the new year just on the other side of dawn. And speaking of dawn, Luke checks the time one more time--11:23 PM. He has been out since nine at night, as he was supposed to hang out with the guys until the new year came in but when Luke’s phone buzzed around 11 with a reminder that there was a second party that he had accepted an invite to, Luke dipped. Sure he could ring in the new year with the band. But he’d see them again in a couple days. He wanted to come by, see how you were doing and hang out with your brother since he hadn’t gotten the chance to see both of you all at Christmas.

“Look you finally showed up,” you laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“I'll have you know that this is my second party of the night. I am right on time,” he grinned.

You laugh. “Very true. Good beers are in the fridge. We’re mostly in the backyard.”

Luke wraps you up into a quick hug. “Thanks for the tip. How’d you hear me knocking?”

“Had to pee. Curse my tiny squirrel bladder. Or maybe in your case, praise it.”

He gives a tiny bow as he makes his way to the kitchen. “All hail the squirrel bladder. Is your brother around? Or has he bailed to the forbidden upstairs with his girl?”

“He and his girls are on the outs. Don’t know how permanently, so he’s in the backyard too,” you explain, locking the front door. Then turn to follow Luke into the kitchen. Your drink was done too, you finished it right before answering the door. It’s totally not the fact that you were trying to avoid your significant other. Who hadn’t even had a drink before they first insulted you at the start of the night. You knew it was probably time to duck out of the relationship, but you just hadn’t found the right words or time to do it.

Luke grabs a beer and holds it over the top of the open fridge door. “Want one?”

“Need something stronger,” you tease and then grab the handle of vodka off the kitchen counter.

“Holy shit, what the hell happened?”

You hear your name bellowed and bouncing throughout the house. You don’t even a chance to sigh at the sound of your drunk significant other screaming your name before they shout it again. “Kitchen!” you holler, slamming the bottle back down.

Luke jolts at the sound and watches your partner barrel around the corner. They single you out with a single digit. “Where the fuck have you been?”

“Taking a piss. Letting Luke into the party. Fixing a drink. You know, doing what one does at a new years party.”

“I been looking all around for you.”

“Well, you found me. What do you need?”

The fridge door is a barrier, at least for Luke. He stands behind it, unsure of what is about to go down and mostly because he had forgotten about closing it when your significant other started screaming. But it seems like they were too preoccupied with you to notice him, until now. They gaze up to Luke is slow and the expression goes from bored normal drunk angry to something darker. “Were you fucking him, right here in the kitchen?” your significant other shouts. Their brows have furrowed, frown lines creating wrinkles on on their cheeks.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you return.

“No, no, Jesus. I was getting a drink. I just fucking got here,” Luke returns, stepping back from the fridge and swinging the door close, as if to reveal the fact that no pants were around ankles and they couldn’t have been.

“You’re such a fucking whore.” The insult is thrown at you but Luke feels it in his chest.

Luke steps closer, placing his body between you and your significant other. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He returns, hands shaking around the bottle of the beer.

“You two are clearly fucking and you, you’ve been messing around my back with fucking everyone.”

“I haven’t touched anyone,” your screech in return. “I was taking a piss. I let Luke in and I went to fix a fucking drink.”

“No, but you cheated on me. Because you’re just never satisfied. You don’t think I’m good enough. Fucking town whore, might as well make your apartment the whore house.”

There’s a sharp clink and before you can look up form the counter where the bottle of beer titters and nearly falls another dull thud follows the sound. You look up to see Luke towering over your significant other on the floor. You rush forward and catch the bottle before it falls and get it stable before walking over to the two of them.

“You’re going to fucking apologize and then you’re taking your drunk ass out of this party. Do not call, or text, or come crying back. Get the fuck out of here and stay the fuck away from them,” Luke warns.

“Or what?”

“Go.” It’s only one word, one syllable that falls from Luke’s tongue. You can see his hands visibly shaking. You know he’s not the type to actually resort to physical violence and you’re shocked that Luke’s the one that seem to start this. It had to be a shove but even that’s more than you ever expected from Luke. Granted, the lack of balance on your partner’s part helped to.

“Have fun with them,” your partner chuckles.

“You’re an asshole,” you finally speak up, stepping out from behind Luke and grab the handle of vodka. “You’re a giant fucking asshole and I hope you rot in fucking hell,” you huff, throwing some of the alcohol into their face. They sputter and shout up at you. But you don’t listen to it as you continue to rant on. “You’re the one cheating. You had your tongue shoved so far down Christine’s throat an hour ago I’m shocked she didn’t choke on it. You're the one sleeping through your entire office--you’re the one that people talk about. I worked, I worked as an escort for the last year in college to help after I lost everything and you think you have the right to shove it in my face. I can’t believe I tolerated this for this long.”

Luke takes hold of your arm to stop the pour. “That’s expensive vodka,” he teases. “I am glad though it’s not tequila.”

You huff but stop, keeping your attention trained on the movement of your new found ex. “Get the hell out of my life.”

Luke checks his watch again--11:26. The front door opens and closes. “Okay, first thing first, you’ve got 34 minutes until the new year and you’re already hitting major goals by speeding about 170 pounds in mere minutes. And what’s your guess on how long we have to clean this up before your brother flips?”

“However long until the party ends, he sleeps and wakes up in the morning,” you return. “I’ll grab some towels.”

Luke grabs some paper towels. He knows he can’t grab too many but he can at least attempt to keep the alcohol from reaching the rugs until you come back with the towels. You worry back down the hallway with an armful of towels and toss one out to Luke who uses it as a barrier to keep the rug safe. You take one and start trying to soak up the middle of the mess.

“Thanks,” you say, looking up from the floor. “For sticking up for me.”

“Of course. You don’t deserve that from anyone. And they were a garbage person anyway. Wish I had kicked their ass.” Luke takes another towel from the pile you dropped them in on the dining room table and starts helps keeping the alcohol from spreading too far into the kitchen.

“Hey, no. I don’t think I’ve got enough savings to get you out on bail,” you laugh.

“Oh you wouldn’t have ratted me out. They would’ve deserved it.”

You nod with a bit of a snicker, grabbing another towel and help Luke with his end of the river of vodka. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have.”

“I can always count of you,” Luke laughs.

“Call it older sibling complex. I’m use to saving someone’s ass.” You’re about two years older than Luke, but it doesn’t feel like that. And your brother that Luke hangs out with is older than you by a year and a half. But there were still some siblings after you, so it was just a chain reaction. You and your bother would cover for your other siblings, but only sometimes. Sometimes you got sick of jumping into the fire and what’s life without some healthy sibling rivalry.

You and Luke manage to clean up the alcohol and go to grab the last towel at the same time. You’re holding the garbage bag so that you could transport said towels to the laundry room without dripping more alcohol all over the house. “I got it,” you insist.

Luke doesn’t loosen his grip. “You sure you’re okay? Seems like a lot happened even before I got here.”

“I’ve been meaning to shed those extra pounds for weeks now. Today was just the final straw.”

“Did-did they ever say anything like sober? You know you can talk to me. I care about you.”

“I know you do, Luke. I appreciate it. But I’m okay. Well as okay as a person can be. I’ve known for a long time, like I said. They weren’t as sneaky as they thought they were.”

“But still. That’s a lot to go through. If you ever need someone, talk to me.”

You sigh but nod, looking into the rich blue of Luke’s eyes. “I will.”

“I like you,” he confesses but he’s sure you won’t take it that way. “I’d like to keep you around and I need you to know I don’t judge you. I would never judge you.”

“I know,” is your whispered reply.

He almost gives in. Almost kisses you but instead, Luke nods. “Good.”

You finally get the last towel and take it to the laundry room, leaning into the washer. There was no way that was real. There was no way Luke leaned into you and there’s no way you almost leaned into him too. No, it’s just the alcohol you tell yourself. It’s just the moment--him coming to your defense. But you know just underneath it all there was something--small, tiny, almost something you could brush aside. But it always came back.

Starting up the washer, from all the nights you crashed at your brother’s place. Originally you were going to move out with him, but he found some friends that wanted to go in on the house, and you figured that was better for him. You managed to find a place and some friends that didn’t mind going In on the rent either. That didn’t mean that you didn’t bug the shit of your brother though when you could, by crashing at his place or watching over the place whenever him and his friends needed a house sitter to take care of the plants that you gave him.

You step out of the laundry room and find Luke walking down towards the backdoor, two beers in hand. “I figured you’d need a drink after a night like this,” he grins with a bit of a sheepish grin.

“Or two, or three,” you laugh. “But thanks. Just-just don’t tell my brother. At least not until morning, I don’t need him trying to drunkenly get into a fight.”

Luke nods. “I understand.”

The two of you join the party and Luke finds your brother easily. But he doesn’t let his gaze drift too far from you. You have some friends you seem to have invited too and it’s not too long after your reunion with them that they are flocked around you. Luke can just faintly catch the gasps they release. But soon the group of you are too far, too deep into the dance floor that he can’t hear anymore or see what’s happening.

“Two minutes!” Someone shouts. The party herds itself inside to watch the ball drop. But Luke lingers behind as everyone moves inside to find you and sure enough you’re lingering behind too.

“The ball’s not dropping out here,” Luke laughs.

“Don’t need a ball to drop to make a change,” you return staring up at the sky. It’s hard to see any of the stars but you imagine what they’d look like blinking back at you from so high up.

“You made one hell of a change tonight,” he agrees. The backdoor stays open and he can hear the concentrated chatter of the group.

You nod and look over to Luke. “I did make one hell of a change tonight. But changes can happen at any time, anywhere.”

“I agree.”

And you almost wish he’d look at you, so that you could say it and show him what you mean, so that you could even admit to yourself that you mean. But Luke doesn’t look down. So you settle with just watching him and then turn back to the sky. You slip your hand through his and think this might be change enough too.

Luke squeezes your hand in return. He grins just a little but tries to keep it hidden before turning his attention back to you. You’re staring up at the sky still. The countdown’s started from inside and Luke just watches you. “Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One!” The house erupts into cheers. You squeeze Luke’s hand in return.

#Luke hemmings #Luke hemmings fanfic #Luke hemmings fic #Luke hemmings blurb #Luke hemmings imagine #Luke hemmings x reader #Luke hemmings x reader insert #Luke hemmings 5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos #5sos fic #5sos imagine #5sos blurb #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #h writes #h writes christmas 2020

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curly-bangtan · 5 years

Note

Drabble game: Member: Jin 6) baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that 21) can’t you stop gaming for 1 second and give me attention?

#6: “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

#21: “can’t you stop gaming for one second and give me attention?”

#20: “let me guess, you’re horny again.”

Warnings: oral (M), slight exhibitionism, giving seokjinnie the best suck while he’s gaming and on a call with the boys

A/N: I feel so bad because I really haven’t had much time to write lately because of uni so I haven’t prepared anything special for Jin’s birthday except this. :c But anyway, enjoy~!

“Ahh- Aahhh- AAAAHHHHHHH!”

You hear the distinct yells coming from a certain room as you enter the house, a noise so boisterous that it could only belong to none other than your boyfriend.

Which one is it this time, Maple Story or Kart Rider?

Shaking your head in a smitten grin, you walk to the source of the shouts.

To his credit, he at least acknowledges you, “Oh, hey sweetie. Back so early?” To his discredit, he doesn’t even look up from his game, eyes glued to the glaring computer screen, which you don’t doubt have been fixed in place for the entire time you were gone. Kart Rider it is this time.

Tonight was a girls’ night, a few drinks at a nice cocktail bar with your closest female friends (a few meaning maximum three because cocktails are bloody expensive), chin-wagging and updating on each other’s love/sex lives. You always enjoy this type of gatherings.

“Early? Seokjin, it’s one.”

Only a single earphone in, he looks up, but even so, scarcely lest his eyes stray for a second too long from the pixelated road and he crashes again. He’s ranked number 6 right now. Out of seven. Why is he even trying anymore, he’s not going to win. Still, your eyes meet for a fleeting moment, enough for you to feel connected to him again, to trick yourself into thinking that he remotely missed you. Because he definitely didn’t. He didn’t even notice the time, where would his attention find the capacity to remember you while he’s racing his friends on this server?

“Oh shit, now way, it’s one already?” There is a monotone in his voice where disbelief should be. Basically, when Seokjin is gaming, he has two possible moods: over dramatic Ancient Roman gladiator with astounding battle cries, or completely stoic, focused, and most likely won’t realise if you’ve cracked an egg on his head. Both are equally as infuriating.

“Yes, it’s already one.” You sigh, plopping your bag on the floor to the side and striping your winter layers.

It’s shocking, sometimes, to think that your boyfriend is close to reaching his thirties. People compliment him endlessly on his lack of ageing - how doesn’t he have a single wrinkle? he looks the same as he did five years ago, if not better! - but little do they know, not only has he physically not aged, but also has mentally not grown up since the age of sixteen. Sixteen is him on a good day and you being generous.

You wonder if he’s going to stop gaming after this round now that you are back.

You wait.

He ends up coming fourth, which isn’t too shabby considering he had fallen off the course and wound up at the back. Watching as he stretches his board back, you think he’s going to switch his computer off, call it a day and finally come join you on the bed. But then he says into the microphone:

“Guys wait for me, let me change my character.”

You shut your eyes and sigh. Every time.

So you try to mind your own business as you wait for him to finally finish - you don’t mind going to sleep without him, you’re that far into your relationship that you don’t even need to say good night anymore. Practically a married couple at this point.

But then your mind wanders to the conversation you and your girls were having earlier during the night.

On the topic of sex, June brought up how her and her boyfriend has started to switch things up in the bedroom since, as much as she loves him, the same dick gets boring after a year. There was one time where they did policeman roleplay and he dropped the key under the bed and took ages to fish it out, but it was fine because the sex had been a solid 10/10, so apparently it was worth the sore arms. Kerry was surprised that June hadn’t tried to spice it up sooner; she on the other hand has been into moderate BDSM since highschool. Nothing hurts better than the sharp pain of being whipped on the butt by a crop cane, apparently. Just the other day, Namjoon suggested to Eunae that they should have a threesome with another man, the name of whom would not be disclosed, but you considerably suspect that he’s someone you know. Taehyung? Jimin? They seem like the type to be into this shit. But anyway, apparently, it turned Namjoon on a fucking lot to see Eunae get pounded by someone else while sucking his cock. She couldn’t complain at all, except for not being able to walk the next day.

You have such wholesome friends.

When it got to you, you kind of just- sat there poking your fingers. It not that your sex life with Seokjin is vanilla, but that’s exactly what you’re saying. Neither of you are particularly adventurous in nature, especially when it comes to sex. You would say that he has a higher sex drive than you, but only marginally. There are days where you would wake up and before your eyes are fully open, he’d already be inches deep in you. Sometimes, you go a long five days without sex out of tiredness and neither of you have a problem with it. But nevertheless, the sex is, as June described, the same mediocre missionary hammering until he blows his load either too soon or takes too long, with the occasional oral if you’re not feeling lazy.

Yeah, not mind blowing.

It’s not like you minded, but hearing your friends talk about their wild sex life makes you feel like you’re missing out. You and Seokjin are missing some fun, some excitement.

With that in mind, you crawl out of bed and approach your oblivious boyfriend. His shoulders jolt in surprise when he feels your arms snake around his neck from behind. Sparing you a second of his attention, he tilts his head up to meet your gaze, eyes wide in curiosity. You hang over him, cheek pressed on the crown of his head as you watch his game without particular interest.

Then you begin to bury your nose in his thick black hair, trailing tiny pecks all the way down to his face. Your hands start to roam as well, groping his toned chest not at all subtly. Seokjin is naturally well built with his hefty big bones - actual bones as well as, you know, that bone.

His fingers are moving mechanically on the keyboard in astounding reflexes. Hmm, you want those fingers inside… You place a particularly wet kiss on his cheek to try to coax his focus into your possession.

“What’s up, baby?” You count the flicker of his eyes as a small victory, even if you haven’t successfully infringed on his unwavering glare at the screen. Then he speaks into the microphone of his earphones, “Hoseok-ah, I’m catching up, watch out~!”

Ignoring his question as well as his sudden jerking motions to avoid his kart from veering too far, you proceed to kiss down his neck, pressing your warm lips ever so lightly on his skin to create that sensitive sparse contact that will surely make his little hairs rise. Your hands have now travel under his outstretched arms, albeit in an awkward angle due to your position, and are playing with the hem of his shirt. He’s wearing white today, and if there’s one thing you love more than your boyfriend, it’s your boyfriend in white.

When your small fingers reach the band of his joggers, you sense not only his muscles beneath your touch but his entire posture tense. Your wandering mouth feels him gulp.

“Let me guess, you’re horny again?” It’s unusual to hear him speak in such a low voice, a genuine hushed whisper rather than one for dramatic effect. The way he tilted away from the earphone mic does not go unnoticed, trying to to let the boys hear him. How interesting… Why not exploit that?

“Hmm…” You hum, lips still painting his collar now with gentle sucks. Your fingers are feathering his torso, each time daring to dip a bit further under his pants, but never too much. “Can’t you just stop gaming for a second and give me some attention, Seokjinnie?”

He tenses once more.

This is kind of fun. You almost snicker diabolically.

Muffled voices sound from the other end of the call, barely audible from the earphone that has been left dangling by the wire, not plugged into his ear. And you know that if it weren’t for them, Seokjin would be reprimanding you loudly right now.

“After this game, okay sweetie?” The tendons of his fingers strain over his knuckles. Click click click click click. Aggressive keyboard pushing.

“But… I can’t wait…” You put on your babiest voice with a whiny undertone, drawing out each syllable for emphasis. As you use your nails to tickle the skin over his pelvis, one of his knees jerk up and hit the desk.

Cute reflexes, you mirth.

“Shit-” He mutters under his breath. “Please, please, please. You’re distracting me.”

That’s the point.

This time, you reach even further, one hand brushing his thigh, the other returning to his fuzzy navel. “Seokjin…” He tries his best to hold in a sharp inhale at your seductive touch. “Right now, please…”

“Last game, I promise.” He whispers away from the microphone.

“You have two more rounds, you just started a new game, I can’t wait that long.” You nip at the lobe of his free ear.

“Boys, I’m going to bed after this game.” He announces to his friends, shooting you a brief pointed look, and whispers pleadingly, “please.”

Do you feel slightly bad for putting him in such a tortured position? Yes. But do you have every intention of carrying on? Also yes.

“How about this, baby,” you press your mouth against his ear, “you stay quiet while I give you the best blowjob of your life right now, then I’ll be satisfied and leave you be. Or, I go right back to bed right now and probably ignore you for the rest of the week until you do some grovelling for choosing a video game over your girlfriend.”

Seokjin shudders at your warm breath perforating into him and heaves, jaw hanging slightly open as he throws you one long glance. You see the clockwork in his mind turning as he contemplates your offer, clearly torn. Promiscuity is not his thing, so naturally, getting sucked off by his girl while on a gaming call with his friends presents a difficult dilemma.

“Shit, Y/N-ah…” He laments softly, causing a smirk to bloom across your face. He’s going to cave, you know it. Concentration at the game now dispersed, Seokjin wets his lips in hesitation. “Fine.”

So he caves.

Smug, you drop onto your knees and scuttles around his chair until you’re in the shadows of the desk. He rolls his seat back to allow you emerge between his legs. It’s dark down here, yet you know his body inside out. Lifting his rear off, he allows you to tug his joggers down, your hands not missing the chance to skim past the outskirts of his hips. You see him glance down, teeth gritted.

Kissing up the insides of his thighs, you let your tongue dance lucidly, teasing him until his quads can’t tense any further. There’s already a semi-bulge in his boxers, this lewd boy, and when you palm him over the grey cotton material, his lower half buckles.

Oh this is going to be fun.

When you feel more heat rush down to his groin, and his member grows more erect, you stripe the boxers off too. Your boyfriend is still, quiet, and you have to check that he’s still conscious. He is. Very conscious. Of your little shadow casted face in front of his fat aching cock under the desk.

He gulps again. He’s fucked.

Just as he looks back up at the screen so his vehicle doesn’t fall behind, he feels your tingly breath hovering over his shaft, up and down, as if assessing where to devour first. Unluckily for him, it’s his balls. Sucking on the soft delicate skin, one of your hands comes under to cup him. Seokjin lets out a low whimper that sounds vaguely like mmhhah-.

“Jin-hyung, where did you go? Falling behind already?” Jungkook taunts over the call, the other guys snickering after him.

Seokjin can’t even respond. It’s taking all of him to even keep half his attention on the race, how is he supposed to formulate a functional sentence?

You look up at him, grinning devilishly as you fondle his balls in your hand with your tactful tongue. Although his fingers are still clicking away at the keyboard, he is now looking down at you every few seconds. Progress. After a particularly cruel suck that has him curling his toes, you move to his cock.

It is throbbing violently. It tends to do that - Seokjin is a throbber; if you get him aroused but deprive him of the friction, he pulses up in need. You find something about that so cute.

And so, slowly and lubriciously, you drag your tongue up his tongue in a zigzag, curving around his circumference at every turn. “Aish…” He cries, and you know it’s not because of the game. He looks down, for a long couple of seconds this time. His lips are parted, hand pushing the hair out of his face to reveal that glorious forehead that’s powerful enough to topple kingdoms.

Then you swirl around his head, the rough pad of your tongue pressed hard against him, tasting his salty precum.

“Fuck.” He exhales. He knows you know what you’re doing to him and he’s completely under your influence, helpless. You wonder if his friends can hear his soft curses and moans. A part of you wants them to. Exhibitionism? Who would have thought.

You focus on his slit, licking mercilessly at his oozing opening, lapping up the taste of his arousal. His thigh is now trembling. Yet you don’t stop assailing his tip, slowly taking it in your mouth while your tongue performs its magic. Swirling, licking, flicking, sucking.

Abruptly, Seokjin grabs the mic of his earphones, concealing it in his palm to mask his voice when he says, “baby, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.”

You just look up at him, wide feign-innocent eyes overflowing in amusement. His own eyes lock on yours, head tilting to the side in exasperation at your antics. His incapacity against your relentless technique sends your cunt surging.

Finally, you take his cock in your mouth, swallowing him inch by inch agonisingly slowly until he pokes the back of your throat. He has to bite down on his lip to prevent those whimpers from escaping. When you slurp up, your tongue continues to draw patterns across his length, feeling his pulsing veins beneath you. Playing with his bollocks at the same time, you release his cock from your mouth with a wet pop.

At this point, you can tell he’s given up on the game, especially when his left hand grips onto your hair, his hips buckling again to push himself into your mouth. The keyboard sounds are decelerating, his eyes fixed on you more than the monitor, only occasional glances up at the game so his kart isn’t completely halted.

You gag as you bob up and down his cock, salivating endlessly to create a slippery friction for the walls of your mouth to mould over him. He fits in you so well. Each time, you try to take in more and more of his length until his whole member is engorged in your mouth. His taste grows increasingly salty, tip crying tears of precum.

Yup, he’s definitely not going to last.

Fingers holding onto your locks tightly, as if holding on for dear life, his chest rises and falls shakily, breath getting heavier. “Shut up, Jimin.” He says into his mic. You wonder what the boy had said.

As your pace increases and strokes of your tongue intensifies, his thighs squeeze around you. He’s desperately falling apart. Maintaining eye contact, his head collapses back, his neck exposed. He’s so close, you can tell.

So you go as fast as you can despite the ache in your jaw, riding him with your mouth, face stretching to encompass his girth. Tears spring to your eyes yet you ignore them. He’s pushing your head up and down now, guiding your speed to pursue his orgasm.

Then-

“O- fuck!” He groans out loud, not even bothering to lower his volume anymore. A moment later, you feel the violent twitch of his shaft followed by a spurt of warm liquid into your mouth. You slow your imbibing, considering his utmost sensitivity right now, and tenderly suck around his ejaculating tip. His whole body convulses, eyes rolling back. He is at utter surrender, both hands cradling your face, legs sprawled out.

“Nothing,” his voice is unstable as he exhales into the mic, “I just- um- spilt water all over my desk.”

‘Spilt water’ indeed.

You swallow his load in your mouth after pulling him out, hand lazily milking out his every last drop. Seokjin is panting as he gazes down at you, caressing your cheek gratefully, fiddling with your red swollen lips.

“I’m leaving, boys, good night.” He mindlessly ends the call with a few clicks and shuts his computer, his whole attention now devoted to you. “I can’t fucking believe you did that.”

Smiling proudly, you answer, “That was fun, wasn’t it.”

“I’m sure it was really fucking fun for you.” Seokjin hauls you up gently from the ground, and jeez, your knees are sore.

Without a second to waste, he pulls you in by the neck to meet his lips, your tongue still bitter from his cum. He’s not normally particularly dominant, yet this time, there is a roughness to his kiss, and an eagerness in the way his arm traps your waist. Walking back step by step, you tumble onto the bed, your core heated from the pool of desire you’ve collected for him. And when he flips and pins you under him, you know you’re fucked for the rest of the night.

“You’re going to regret doing that.”

04/12/19

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

Text

A Few Words on RWBY V7:E5

*cracks knuckles and lets fingers fly across keyboard in a blur*

Ah yes, one whole reaction post.

This one gets a bit long. Reactions up front, conclusion and speculation in the back. Everything’s under the cut because I don’t want to ruin anything for anyone who hasn’t seen the ep yet. (GO WATCH IT NOW, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?!)

- Me, dancing in my seat: We’re gonna get a montage!

(someone make me a wallpaper of the RWBY girls all slumped over each other worn out, they’re so cuuuute~)

- Hi, I’m sorry, Nora braiding Ren’s hair just... UGH.

- Also, I noticed some general exasperation on his part this ep, and I’ve seen other posts say he’s acting kind of over Nora. I think Nora is acting even more hyper than usual, and Ren is waiting for the other shoe to drop (Something tells me Nora came from Mantle, and I just.. I don’t know. She hasn’t had her big ‘grow up’ moment like the rest of her team has had. She’s always been extra supportive and super optimistic and bubbly, but we got a glimpse during Ren’s growth arc that Nora’s grown up very fast and very alone, and though she doesn’t often show that emotional maturity, it’s there. Don’t be surprised if she pulls out the big guns in that department soon, especially when things go to shit in Mantle and Tyrion - who was suspiciously absent this ep - goes after Jaune.

- This is probably out of order but I didn’t initially add anything about the Bees because let’s face it, we all know they’re darling and badass and (omfg I’m still not over Blake’s haircut because she is GORG).

- JAUNE. And all the moms. BLESS.

- FNKY. Ahhhhhh this is amazing.

[Okay, now to the biggest thing (to me from this ep):

Qrow. Gave. Up. DRINKING.

GUYS.

GUYS!

GUYSSSSSS.

dafjg;sfgjdg;dkfgoreigndnvao;idjv;ogsdh;flk I’m so proud of him.

I just really, really hope he sticks to it.

It seems that a lot of his confident swagger has gone missing, and we’re seeing a way more humbled side of his personality. (AND FFS PLEASE DO NOT MAKE CLOVER FUCK HIM UP EMOTIONALLY PLEASE RT I’M BEGGING YOU I WANNA LIKE THIS SHIP)]

- Robin is a badass woman who Mantle - and Atlas - desperately need, and I am a FAN.

- Who is the lovely girl next to Robin? Can I get a name please? I love her ears (what exact kind of faunus is she? can i have her backstory? her entire aesthetic is amazing)

- Robin/Clover? Is there some history there? There’s some history. I’m sensing a ‘they were together/schoolmates/friends/maybe romantically but Clover was selected fore the AceOps’ sort of vibe.

- Winter and Weiss’s interaction this episode just struck me as the scales finally balancing between them. Weiss has always looked up to her sister. There has never been anyone better than Winter in her own eyes. You can still see that in their interactions, but Weiss challenges her now. Asks questions. Makes valid points.

- As for the reveal of the Winter Maiden, I saw it coming, but it does make the most sense. Weiss’s reaction says the same thing that I’m thinking though. I do, however feel like Winter feels obligated, despite her words. She might have ‘made it her own,’ but I suspect she’s never had an opportunity to consider any other alternative.

- Jacques. Okay. We all know Arthur is involved here, he’s going to help him do the thing, he’s probably providing strategic advice. Winter is right, he’s literally about to send Mantle into a panicking riot, bet it’s going to be the Grimm’s playground.

Ending Thoughts:

1. The Winter Maiden: Based on this ep, I’m feeling very worried for Winter’s chances at survival. New maidens are very very VERY fragile as they come into their own. At this point, we know who three of the four maidens are (is Summer Rose the Summer Maiden? Last episode totally gave me the impression that she’s definitely not dead. No body, no confirm-y).

2. Will Robin be thrown into Ironwood’s path by Jacques and his plans? Is this something Arthur planned? If Jacques causes as bad of an uproar as implied (obviously the answer to this is yes), Ironwood would be smart to bring Mantle’s best hope (imo) into the fold, lest Mantle destroys itself and causes further issue in Atlas.

3. MARIA? Hello? Where are you? Have you been training our sweet silver-eyed Ruby? She can’t get one chat and have that be the only training she gets.

4. Qrow/Clover - Guys, hate me for this (I hate me for this), but the more I think about it, the more this pairing gives me bad vibes. I want to like it. I want very much to like it. But I feel like Qrow is in a place where he needs to focus on himself. Clover... I don’t trust him. He gives me the impression of a man who made bad choices for the intent to be good, but he’s in too deep to come clean. That and I think the good luck semblance doesn’t mean shit when it comes to life choices. Maybe it all comes out his way in the end, but what has he done to himself to get there. Qrow’s bad luck semblance? Look. He keeps trying. He does good despite the odds stacking against him with the bad luck business.

5. Ruby. So, this season has really showed some emphasis on her growth. We see her withhold the truth from Ironwood. He doesn’t know that Salem can’t be defeated - which, would that tidbit change Winter’s mind about being a maiden? I bet we’ll find out. We see her with Qrow, we see a lot of references to family and how close they are (I’d like to believe that she’s the reason he’s not drinking anymore, she really knocked him down hard last season and for good reason), and she’s definitely retaining the bubbly parts of her personality, but it’s tempered. I suspect she’s going to start making decisions that the girls don’t like for what she suspects to be the greater good. We have a lot of dynamics to her team now. Weiss has Winter’s influence, Blake and Yang are a true (wonderful) team. I really liked the RNJR vibes back from S4, and I really hope we get a reprise of them soon (maybe when Tyrion inevitably comes after Jaune like we all know he’s gonna).

6. Ironwood & Oscar. At some point, desperation is going to win out, I think. Ironwood is driven by his desire to keep Atlas safe, and we see things pointed out time and again by Winter et all the Atlas folk. They put Atlas first. But that’s not Qrow & Team RWBY/ORNJ(is that what they’re called?)’s prerogative. Here’s the thing: let’s say they help re-establish communications, they launch the tower, yada yada, so on, so forth. At some point the tea will be spilled. And when that happens, if Oz is not around, Ironwood is going to snap. He’s already very fragile, it seems (and I love him, really. I want to give that man some tea, and a fuzzy blanket then we can hug it out) and this would be the final blow. I think desperation would dictate him essentially going after Oscar to the point of life/death to try and get Oz to come back.

7. The Atlesian Military: Is it strong/large enough to handle assisting both at home and abroad when the Grimm attack? I’m gonna guess no.

Okay. I think that’s all I had for this (edit: probably not) ep, so if you want to chat feel free to do so however you wish.

#RWBY #rwby vol 7 #rwby spoilers #rwby reaction #RWBY V7:E5 #reaction post #ruby rose #qrow branwen #winter schnee #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna

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ahgaru · 6 years

Text

[Day6 fanfic] Don’t Stop the Rain (Chapter 4)

Pairing: Jae x Reader (Fluff) Characters: Day6. minor mentions of Got7 Word count: 2,790

Summary: It’s frustrating when it’s raining and you don’t have your umbrella with you. But that frustrating moment could turn into a romantic one when there’s an attractive guy holding an umbrella beside you–like those in books, movies or dramas, where the guy would offer to share his umbrella. A new love could bloom–or not.

Chapter 1: Umbrella Chapter 2: Chicken Chapter 3: Coffee Chapter 4: Interest

You’ve been staring at your ceiling for quite a while now. You roll over, for the nth time, to your left and puff out sharply. Your heart has also been throbbing wildly for hours; and it beats more extremely when a scene flashes in your mind.

“You were thinking about indirect kiss, aren’t you? You want a direct one?”

You feel steam coming out from your face and you shake your head while kicking the air. You roll over to your right and ruffle your hair. Man, that Chicken! You glance at the digital clock on your bedside table. It’s already 3:14 in the morning. You sit up and fix your eyes on your wall and once again think about what happened earlier.

His loud (coughs) adorable laugh spread the park after his remark. He was laughing so much from teasing you. You narrowed your eyes on him and slammed the bench as you leaned closer to him, making your left hand (the one you slammed on the bench) as a support. With your faces few inches apart from each other, you mumble, “You want to?”

His laughing stopped and looked at you, quite surprised with how close you were to him, his gaze shifted down to your mouth. You arched a brow as if challenging him. With a smirk, you lift your hand (now with a pretzel between your thumb and index which you sneaked from his cup) and put the pretzel between your faces before taking a bite from it, with gaze still darted on his.

You leaned back with a smug and stuff the rest of the pretzel you’re holding to your mouth.

You stayed in the shed for another two hours just talking about random things again. It was almost 8:30 when he stood on the bench and fumbled something at the shed’s ceiling. He was holding a clear umbrella when he stood still.

You creased your forehead, “You actually hid an umbrella there and you’re only taking it out now?”

He did his favorite move—shrugging with a smug face. He went down the bench and opened the umbrella. “Dinner?”

You didn’t decline. You’re already hungry (and want to stay a little bit longer with him) so a dinner before going home isn’t a bad idea.

You found it astounding how you spent every afternoon with him for five consecutive days; how the two of you spent time together as if you’re good old friends; how you tease and bicker with each other; how you can talk about random things with easiness; how you eat snacks after work.

Doesn’t it look like you’re having an after-work date with him everyday?

You wave your hand trying to dismiss the thought. With a sigh, you get off from your bed and walk towards your computer unit.

“Fortnite? Overwatch? Far Cry? Hmm… what shall I play?” You continue scanning your games but in the end, you choose Minecraft.

You play until the sun’s up. You look at your window and see that it’s already bright outside. “Crap,” you save your game and turn your computer off. You grab a sweater and take your keys before heading out.

You grab breakfast from the nearest diner and you’re craving for coffee but decide not to drink one. You yawn as you walk back to your place, “Finally! Hope I’ll be getting some sleep now”

You sleep the whole morning and it’s already three minutes after 2pm when you wake up. Your grumbling tummy greets you. You take a shower and dress neatly, take an oversized hoodie and tie it on your waist, get a small sling bag and stuff your phone, wallet, and keys and head out for lunch.

You’re walking near the chicken place when an arm rests on your head. Without taking a look, you roll your eyes, “Are you stalking me?”

He scoffs, “You wish, Dude” he ruffles your hair and puts his arm on your shoulder. “Must be fate,” he chuckles

“Ew,” you grimace “I didn’t know you’re a romantic”

Brushing your remark aside, he looks at you and asks where you’re headed to. “Lunch? It’s already late for one”

“I woke up late,” you explain.

“Oh…” the side of his lips lifts “Seems like someone’s been up all night thinking of me”

You elbow his stomach which gains a soft groan from him. “Stop assuming, Mister”

He sniggers, “Oh, stop assuming, Missy. I didn’t say it’s you. Why act guilty?”

He goes with you as you eat your lunch. He does not order a single thing. He just sits in front of you, elbows on the table, fingers intertwined—chin rests on them, and watches you chew on your food the whole time.

He reaches for your drink and sips on it. You glance at him and look back to your plate. It’s not a big deal. He arches a brow at your reaction before he puts back the glass on the table.

“So where are you going now?” He asks when you finish your meal.

You shrug and lean back. “Go home?”

“Wanna come to my place?” He suggests casually and you stare at him with wide eyes.

“Aw!” You cry “Wait! That hurts!” You grimace as he chuckles

“I told you, I’m good at this.” Even without looking at him, you can tell he’s wearing a smug on his face

“Do you really have to do it from behind? Wait, aw!” You take your hands away from the mouse and the keyboard and glare at him “I told you no rifles!” You hiss “That was SSG 08, wasn’t it? You’re such a cheat!”

He dragged you to his apartment after you had eaten your lunch. It took you by surprise when he suggested it but when he told you to play games with him (because he has two computer units), your eyes sparkled.

He just chuckles as he half-heartedly murmurs his sorry. You crack your knuckles (getting serious) before getting your hair tie from your wrist, gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail. You smirk.

“Okay, I’ll stop.” The blue-haired straightens up “Alright, let’s just use pistols like how we originally agreed.”

When another round starts, your fingers hit the keys right away. B+1+4 to load your secondary weapon with Night Hawk .50C pistol; B+4+5 to buy a Magnum Sniper Rifle as your primary weapon. B+6+2 to equip yourself with Kevlar and helmet and you also buy some grenades.

You hit the number 3 key to load yourself with a knife to move faster. You dash to the tunnel, hit the 4, and throw a grenade inside. Fire in the hole! You move to the side, press down the left control button to duck, and shoot when the chicken guy went out of the tunnel. You jump from left to right while shooting and run back to hide from a wall. You shift to rifle and make a headshot when he becomes visible from your sight.

“Ha!” You spite

The chicken guy half-spread his forearms in disbelief, “What the heck!” He exclaims. “You said no rifles!”

“Said the one who shot me with a rifle on the first round” You retort.

You both decide to use whatever weapon to avoid the cheating. It’s a close game but you’re leading.

“What? Planting bomb?”

“You didn’t say anything about not planting bomb earlier,” you snigger.

You both keep playing that you do not notice the time passing. If it’s not for your grumbling stomach, you would not have noticed it’s already night time.

You gasp, “Oh shoot! It’s past 7?”

The other takes a glance on his wrist watch and suggests to call it a day. You brush your hands twice before crossing your arms and turn to him, “You lose!” You paint a smug “Well, let’s go have some dinner. You’re paying”

He protests, saying you didn’t have any pact about it, but still pays for your dinner an hour after. You find it mirthful how you seem like you’ve known each other for ages that you just casually talk nonstop and laugh with each other comfortably. He even had his forearm on your shoulder again when you were walking and finding a place to eat.

And as if the hours you’ve spent with each other earlier aren’t still enough, you go towards the shed after the meal.

“What caught your interest lately?” You quiz few moments after you talked about some video games and just as when the rain starts pouring “Like, of course, other than games.”

He smiles briefly, not his usual big smile—it’s just small but deep. He leans back, both hands on the bench. “More than a week ago,” he starts “Me and my grandma went to visit my grandfather’s grave for his death anniversary. We were on our way to see my brother after that. So I was talking on the phone with him when my grandma suddenly crossed the road—technically, she saw someone who looked like my grandpa,” he pauses and smiles. You take a gulp hoping nothing bad had happened. “Then there was this lady who stopped her and brought her back to the sidewalk. I still haven’t realized it then. I only noticed that grandmother’s gone was after a few moment when people started moving to cross the street. She wasn’t behind me and when I looked around, she was already in the middle of the road, her right hand was held by that young lady—she was helping her to cross.”

“So,” you trail off. You clear your throat before speaking again, “this girl caught your interest? Did you talk to her? Thanked her?” You unconsciously bite your lower lip as a brow arches.

“I was supposed to thank her that day. I hurriedly crossed the street, and when I was just like a meter away, I stood still. I found out she works at my b—“ he tilts his head a bit “she works in the same company as my brother; she was wearing the company’s lanyard. Few days after that, I managed to talk to her,” he pauses and slowly turns his head towards you, “I talk to her everyday.”

“Ah,” you respond dryly as you walk away “I see.”

“At first I just really wanted to thank her,” he continues “If it had not been for her, I might’ve lost my grandma, too—exactly a year after I lost my grandpa.” He exhales before he lifts his hand “This is his wristwatch—my grandfather’s watch.” He licks his lips before flashing a smile as he puts down his hand “She piqued my curiosity. She’s genuinely nice—although not that nice to me; she’s really really fun to be with. I also love teasing her a lot because she bickers back. And I look forward to seeing her every single day.”

“Hmm,” you nod. Your eyes can’t focus on a single thing to look at. You really want to call it a night already but the rain just falls heavier. You fold your lips together as you think of what else to ask or say. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

The blue-haired stretches and moves a few inches away from you. To your surprise, he suddenly lays himself on the bench, making your lap as his pillow. You ask yourself why you’re not complaining but instead you stare down at his soft silky face. His eyes are shut, his lips twitch a bit. As if your right hand has its mind of its own, it moves towards his head and your fingers start stroking his hair causing his lips to stretch in a smile.

“I don’t think the rain will stop any time soon,” he declares “let me take a nap for a bit. I couldn’t really sleep last night from thinking of that girl—wondering if I’d see her today even if it’s her day off.”

Your nose scrunches as you hastily brush his face with your hand. He laughs and grabs your hand to stop you. He holds it for a while, grazing his thumb on your palm, before putting it back on his head, motioning you to stroke his hair again. A lump forms in your throat and you swallow it as you oblige.

The audacity to talk about another girl while you’re with a girl—and even held her hand and placed your head on her lap right after you talked about the other one! You exhale a long breath before batting your eyelids briskly after feeling your eyes starting to heat up. What is wrong with me?

“Maybe, he’s making her jealous?” Wonpil suspects when you ask him what could be the meaning if a guy spends time with a girl every afternoon, eats snack and dinner with her, held her hand (even for a brief moment), and lays on her lap, but talks about another girl with so much fondness in his eyes.

It’s been two days, and you didn’t see him yesterday. He has mentioned about spending every Sunday with his grandmother so you just spent the whole day playing Far Cry.

“Why did you ask though?” Your best friend quizzes “You’ve been seeing someone?”

“What?! No!” you respond forthwith.

He narrows his eyes on you and you avoid his gaze. You take the two cups of coffee that has just been placed on the counter by the barista from the company’s café.

“Here, you hold these first.” You give him the cups and straighten up “I’ll take a quick piss before we head upstairs”

After doing your business, you see your best friend pouting (as usual) while his eyes are darted on someone. You’re not even surprised to spot the CEO when you trace Wonpil’s line of vision.

The next few hours are a blur. Maybe you just want to call it a day already and head somewhere.

“You’re going to the pantry?” Jackson asks when he sees you walking in the hallway. He strides fast to walk beside you.

“Nah,” you smile “to the library. You need me to make coffee for Mr. Park?”

You jump a little bit when he goes in front of you, puts his hands on each of your shoulder and pierces your eyes. “I need you to listen to something,” his gaze continues to dart on you as he waits for your response.

You lift both eyebrows and shrug, “What is it?”

“I found this song and I’ve been kind of singing it since this morning,” he grins “I need a company”

He gives you one of the earpieces before he fumbles on his phone. You nod when you start hearing the plucking of the guitar. You glance at Jackson and give him an approval look. His grin becomes wider and throws a fist into the air as if he just made an achievement.

I'm the kind of guy

Your jaw drops upon hearing the first line. Your heart starts beating uncontrollably. His voice sounds like him!

That'll love to love you baby You're the kind of girl I would give up everything for

You take a gulp. Unconsciously, you start breathing heavily; shoulders are moving up and down.

Baby all I need is your loving all around me Oooo don't that sound kind of nice Hey yeah ~

Your cheeks start to heat up. You can feel yourself turning red. It really sounds like him! You bite your lip as you try to keep your thoughts from wandering to the memory from two nights ago.

There is just one thing That I need to ask you baby

Jackson starts singing and you have the urge to put a hand on his mouth to make him quiet.

Can we take this kind of slow? Cause I don't want to mess up Never felt like this before And I feel I'm going crazy

“Who sung this?” You finally let your curiosity take over

Jackson takes off the earpiece, “Oh!” he sniggers “Mr. Park’s brother when he was younger. I think this was… 3 years ago?”

“Mr. Park’s brother?” You affirm “The one who reviews our games?”

“Yeah. His only brother. Oh wait,” Jackson shifts his focus on his phone, “I downloaded his video. Let me show you. He used to have this big rimmed square glasses,” he gestures a square shape. “Here,” as if on cue, the screen changes to Mr. Park’s name “Oh sh*t! Sungjin—I mean, Mr. Park’s calling. Gotta go!”

He dashes away and you let your left shoulder lean on the wall before your knees give up. Must be my imagination.

“You okay?” a fox-eyed young man appears behind you.

“I’m fine.” You straighten up “Thanks for asking though, Younghyun”

Thoughts please? :) Chapter 5: Burn

Also on: * AsianFanfics * archiveofourown * twitter

Fics masterlist: Daelisix’s Fics

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nitewrighter · 6 years

Text

Breach Pt. IV

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

In Which We’re Really Glad Hanzo’s So Good At Murdering and Aedan and Rei talk a lot.

---

Night had fallen on the Urdr Lab facility. Two talon guards walked the outer perimeter, calmly chatting.

“Everything’s sequels and reboots these days. It’s bullshit,” said Talon Enforcer 3939 Callsign ‘Tyrian.’

“Woah, someone’s bitter,” said Talon Trooper 4783 Callsign ‘Rosso,’ “I dunno--I’d still want to see it.”

“Look, nothing’s going to top the original run---Mid-crisis, shoestring budget, skeleton film crew--Old school Midori Rider had heart. It meant something to try and tell a story like that when the world was going to shit. It’s just a cash grab at this point,” said Tyrian.

“But girl Midori Rider though---That’s interesting. We’re kind of due for it, you know?” said Rosso.

“They want to make a female-led Sentai show they’re welcome to it, they don’t need to dry-hump Midori Rider to do it. It’s just Glitchbot struggling to stay relevant,” said Tyrian.

“See I think it would be cool to get kids into the show, then they could get into the older versions and--” Rosso stopped suddenly, “Did you hear something?”

“Maaaybe it’s the faaaairiiiies,” said Tyrian with a snicker.

“Come off it---” said Rosso.

“You know that’s how Talon got this land so cheap, right?” said Tyrian, “None of the locals wanted to build here and---”

“Tyr--hold up,” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Lilla--have you seen any movement in the western quadrant?” There was only dead air on the other end. “Huh...” Rosso brought his hand away from his helmet, “Must be on break?”

Tyrian shrugged. “Anyway,” Tyrian went on, “None of the locals wanted to build here because apparently this was ‘fairy land’ and that’s how you end up with prime geothermal real estate so---”

An arrow suddenly pierced through Tyrian’s neck.

“What the---” it took Rosso a half-beat to register that Tyrian was gurgling and bleeding out, “Shit---” He tried to put pressure to the wound but was struggling to try and get past Tyrian’s armor without disturbing the arrow and making it worse, “Shit--” Rosso brought a hand to the side of his helmet, “Requesting back---”

A second arrow pierced through his hand, and then his helmet, the plating of both stopping the arrow as its point barely kissed his temple, the comm in his helmet had cut out from the damage of the arrow. He was screaming before a second arrow pierced them through the side and he fell to the ground, groaning, one hand pierced through and pinned to the side of their helmet. “Shit--” he was dragging himself with one arm over to Tyrian. He could activate Tyrian’s comm. Request backup. Tyrian was gone at this point, he knew that much. Rosso stretched one hand toward Tyrian’s helmet, the blood pooling between both of them, when a foot came down and stepped on his hand. The pain of having his hand crushed against the walkway was all but an afterthought compared to the arrow in his side, but Rosso craned his neck up to see a graying-haired figure standing over him. A man with a bow.

“You--” Rosso started before another arrow split through his helmet.

Hanzo regarded the two talon guards’ corpses with a grim indifference before bringing before opening his comm. “You have your opening,” said Hanzo, “Move in now.”

“Roger!” D.Va spoke over the comm lines.

Hanzo pulled a small glowing purple translocator from his quiver and dropped it on the ground. In a flash of violet, Sombra appeared out of the translocator and instantly edged her feet away from the pooling blood.

“Yikes...” she muttered, “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

“They have my niece,” said Hanzo, already moving forward, “The Shimada Clan would never let such a slight go unanswered. Now, if you would...”

“Gotcha,” Sombra walked across the walkway with Hanzo keeping a sharp eye out before Sombra reached a door panel, “Oh Talon networks,” she said a bit wistfully, cracking her knuckles and bringing up a purple screen, “It’s been too long.”

“Can you hack it?” said Hanzo, frowning.

“You know who you’re talking to, right?” said Sombra, opening up a purple screen, “Now, let’s see what we can learn...”

Hanzo heard a grunt behind him, and turned around to help Genji up onto the walkway from where he had scaled the wall.

“A lot slower than usual,” said Hanzo.

“I’ll be fine,” said Genji, circling his prosthetic arm in its socket as Mercy flew in alongside him.

“Accessing and shutting down surveillance,” said Sombra.

“Wait--” Genji walked up alongside her, “Do you see Rei anywhere?”

“Haven’t seen her yet,” murmured Sombra, scrolling through various surveillance feeds of the facility, “But it’s a big facility with a lot of---” Sombra cut herself off, then opened up a second screen. The surveillance feed on her first window had gone black, and the second screen she brought up featured a rough schematic of the facility, with a bright yellow dot just a ways off-center in it. Sombra looked between her two screens. “Wherever they’re keeping her, they’ve got the cameras off for some reason,” said Sombra.

“Mein gott--what are they doing to her!?” said Mercy, running a hand through her hair in distress.

---

“...A rescue,” said Aedan, picking up the talon assassin armor next to her, “This is a rescue. I’m...” he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly, “I’m... rescuing you.”

Rei looked at him skeptically as she rose up to a more balanced sitting-up position on the stretcher.

“I know the facility,” Aedan went on, “And I have a plan.”

“And I should trust you because...?” Rei started tying her hair back with the ribbon.

“Because it’s your only option---I mean, you could try pulling what you did yesterday--running around aimlessly through Urdr and getting nowhere before the guards tranq you again, or,” he held the assassin armor out to her, “You can put this on, follow my lead, and actually have a chance.”

“And how am I supposed to know you aren’t working with Moira?” said Rei, fastening her necklace around her neck, “That this isn’t some... sick game where I’m one of her little lab rats?”

“Rabbits,” said Aedan.

“What?”

“We use rabbits, not--I’m getting off-point. Just---” Aedan huffed, “You don’t. You don’t know if you can trust me. And that’s fair. I just...” He brought the assassin armor up a bit more insistently, “Please let me help you.”

Rei’s eyes flicked down to the assassin armor, then up to him. Hesitantly, her movements still sluggish from all the sedatives, she took the armor.

“Why are you doing this?” said Rei.

They were going to obliterate your mind, and if they couldn’t do that they were going to cut you open over and over again and every time I thought of that it made me want to throw up, the words ran through Aedan’s mind but he couldn’t say that. He looked down. “Talon...” he said slowly, “It... wants to make a world where people aren’t held back by fear and old ideas. But if it has to brainwash people to do it... that... sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?”

“Brainwash--?” Rei’s eyes widened and then she dropped the assassin armor into her lap, pressing her hands to the sides of her head, “What did they--Is that why they---!? They’re going to--?!”

So much for not making her panic, thought Aedan. “They weren’t able to do anything yet,” said Aedan, putting a hand on her shoulder but she flinched at his touch and he quickly withdrew his hand.

“How do you know!? I can barely remember anything since London!” Rei was practically hyperventilating at this point.

“They tried. Your... dragon... took a labtech’s hand off,” said Aedan.

Rei stared at him for several seconds, her eyes still wide with panic. “It can do that?!” she blurted out.

Really not as much of a weapon as Mum said, are you? thought Aedan, before saying, “I don’t know! It’s your dragon...thing! Shouldn’t you know what it does?”

“I thought it just healed!” said Rei.

“Well congratulations. You can also take hands off,” said Aedan, “Now we don’t have a lot of time. Can you please put this assassin uniform on?”

Rei bit the inside of her lip, then set the armor next to her swung her legs over the edge of the stretcher.

“Easy--” Aedan held a hand out to her, “It’s been a while since you’ve been on your feet.”

She braced her forearm against his with one arm, then pushed off of the stretcher with the other. Her legs turned to jelly beneath her only momentarily, a brief stumble before she put her free hand against his shoulder to stabilize herself, before rising a bit shakily to two feet.

“Can you stand?” said Aedan.

Rei nodded and they broke apart. Rei turned around and unfolded the talon armor from its place on the stretcher. Mindlessly, she undid one of the fasteners at the shoulder of her hospital gown, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Do you mind?” she said, furrowing her brow.

“No,” Aedan shrugged, then immediately caught himself, “Oh! You’re getting--right--I’m just---right, I should... get to...” he pointed at one of the lab monitors over his shoulder, “Important... rescue... things.”

“Important rescue things,” Rei muttered as Aedan turned around and walked over to the lab monitor. “So... what is this place?” asked Rei, as Aedan tapped away at the keyboard, reviewing the various security footage of the facility.

“These are the Urdr Labs. Talon’s Iceland-based R&D facility,” said Aedan, clicking through various cameras of the facility.

“Iceland?!” said Rei, “How long have I been here?”

Aedan counted on his fingers, “You got here around 3 AM the night before last. You’ve been here two days.”

“Feels like longer,” said Rei.

“That would be the drugs,” said Aedan, “How’s the armor?”

“...complicated,” said Rei.

“Well don’t put the gauntlets on until last. Also you need to detach the breastplate from the abdominal lames, then reattach them once the lames are around your--” Aedan looked over his shoulder mindlessly then went beet red and quickly fixed his attention back on the monitor screen. He hadn’t really seen anything. A section of her back, maybe some Pachimari-printed panties at most. But he rubbed his forehead. This whole rescue ordeal was murder on his nerves. “Once they’re around your waist,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Is it supposed to be this tight across the ass?” muttered Rei.

“There’s a panel at the center of the belt that adjusts the waistband,” said Aedan, “Sorry... I just went by your height. They didn’t record...the other.. measurements.”

“Didn’t even get me a bra. Grabbed the hair ribbon... but the bra? Nope,” Rei was muttering under her breath.

“It didn’t... feel appropriate,” said Aedan, “It’s fine though the armor is um... it’s... supportive?”

He could feel her shooting a glare at the back of his head from across the room before she sighed and resumed fiddling around with the complicated plates of the armor.

“Are we safe here?” said Rei, looking around the lab.

“We have maybe a few more minutes at best,” said Aedan, looking through the lab footage, “I managed to put a handful of security cameras on a loop, so it should be a while before they notice you’re gone.”

“How do you know no one else is going to walk in?” asked Rei.

“This is my lab,” said Aedan a bit proudly.

Rei’s eyes trailed along the nanite amalgams in their glass tubes and tanks all along the walls. “...kind of creepy,” she said quietly.

“Wh--I’ll have you know I do very important work here!” said Aedan, whirling around, nearly stopping himself, but then finding she had the armor mostly on at this point, “Oh--here---” He got up and hurried over, helping with the last few armor latches up her back. Rei would have flinched back at his touch, but she seemed distracted by the swirling black shapes within the glass.

“What are these things?” she asked as he got the last latch at the back of her neck secured. She broke away from him and bent over, squinting at one, “Are these... Reaper?” she said quietly. She looked over her shoulder at him, her face lit up eerily yellow by the biotic plasma the nanite amalgam was suspended in, “Are they.... you?”

“In another life, I suppose,” said Aedan with a shrug.

Rei gave him a sidelong glance.

“Nanite amalgams,” said Aedan, “They’re masses of cells. Some organic, some not. Some derived and replicated from me, some from Reyes. We should get those gauntlets on before---”

“Incoming call from Facility Residence C,” the computer’s AI spoke.

“...Shit,” said Aedan. He looked at Rei. “Down!” he hissed, “Get down, now!” Rei dropped to the floor, out of sight of the monitor, Aedan put a finger to his lips to signal her to be silent.

“Patching through---” said the AI as Moira appeared on the screen and Aedan attempted to compose his appearance. She looked exhausted.

“Aedan?” said Moira, “Are you there?”

“Yes! Yes I’m here,” said Aedan, attempting to look as calm as possible, “Couldn’t sleep. Decided to get some work done. You know how it is.”

A weary smile tugged at the corner of Moira’s mouth. “Leave a note next time, will you?”

“Oh---a note. Of course. I figured I’d be back before you woke up, so...” he trailed off, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“I’m sorry this whole situation has you so out of sorts, a thaisce,” said Moira, “The environment here is... different from Oasis, I’ll admit, but you’ve been doing brilliantly in adjusting.”

“Well... adaptation is the basis of survival, isn’t it?” said Aedan with a slight smile. He gave a short glance down to Rei, huddled at his feet, glaring up at him and making ‘wrap it up’ gestures.

“You should get back to sleep, Mum,” said Aedan, his eyes quickly flicking back to Moira, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Don’t worry about me, a thaisce, I’ll be---” the image on the screen of Moira suddenly distorted, then she paused and blinked, “Did it just---” The image distorted again, “--for you too?”

“Yeah it’s--” Aedan started and the image distorted.

“There’s something wrong--Can you--” The image distorted, “--you hear me, Aedan? Can you--?” the feed cut altogether.

“Something’s wrong,” said Aedan as Rei braced a hand on the monitor’s desk and rose to her feet, apparently swaying from the head rush.

“Easy--” said Aedan.

“So comms are down?” said Rei.

“Comms don’t just ‘go down’ for Talon, and I’m not doing this,�� said Aedan, “If we’re under attack, Talon’s going to lock down everything--The airfield, the gates, the---” He stopped himself and took a steadying breath, “It’s okay. This is okay. I can figure this out.” His mouth drew to a thin line, “We can’t stay here,” he said, “We can take advantage of the scrambled comms and still get to a dropship.”

“What if it’s Overwatch?!” Rei’s face lit up.

“Would they know where you are?” said Aedan, “Are you chipped?”

“What, like a dog? Gross! No!” said Rei, putting on the Talon assassin’s helmet and having the red plate come down over her face. The eyes in the visor glinted orange as it activated. “I mean... I’m pretty sure they’d ask me if they did something like that.”

“So we can assume we’re on our own. We don’t know if the attack is on the facility itself or remotely, but either way, we can’t stay here” He handed the assassin’s gauntlets over to Rei. “Put these on and uh... keep your hands pointed away from your face.”

Rei clicked on the gauntlets, “Why do I need to keep them pointed away from my--” A massive scarlet blade suddenly jutted out of the gauntlet, missing Aedan’s head by inches.

“...that’s why,” said Aedan.

The orange eyes of her faceplate glinted in some surprise.

“They’re retractable,” said Aedan, “Just... touch your thumb to your ring finger--”

Rei complied and the blade shot back in. With that she got the other gauntlet on.

“Index finger extends, ring finger retracts. All right, now for the really stupid part,” said Aedan, turning back to the monitor.

“I don’t know if I like the sound of the ‘really stupid part,’” said Rei.

“We need a big enough disruption in the facility so that no one will notice a dropship leaving,” said Aedan, clicking through several programs detailing the current status of the nanite amalgams.

Command: Purge in T minus 15 minutes

A window popped up on the screen.

Readings still show Nanite Amalgams not in alternate containment. Override? Y/N

Y, Aedan typed.

Enter override code.

ashes2ashes, Aedan typed.

Accepted.

Aedan heard a snort behind him and gave a slight start how close Rei was to him.

“Ashes2ashes?” Rei said, “You’re all really... ‘None More Goth’ here at Talon, huh?”

Aedan chuckled. “We should get going,” he said, glancing at the counter that had appeared on the monitor, “Fifteen minutes and this place is going to get ugly.”

Aedan opened the door into the hall and looked around. No guards, no labtechs. He put on the labtech mask, goggles, and surgical cap once more, motioned to Rei, and together they headed down the hall. It was odd, seeing someone in full Talon assassin garb walking... like a normal person. Most Talon assassins moved like animals, to him, something alien, between feline, avian, and reptilian. The way Rei carried herself was... well... it was Rei. Their pace was brisk but if they broke out into full-on sprints, they risked drawing more attention to themselves. Rei was still a bit imbalanced from the drugs, able to walk, but looking around vaguely, sometimes her steps meandering away from him, sometimes bumping her shoulder into his, then she’d quickly resume her course as best she could. Aedan could feel his stomach knotting up with stress. They just had to get to Urdr’s airfield, type in the preset coordinates to Reykjavik, say their goodbyes, and that was it. Then “Whoops, there was an accident in my lab--what do you mean the ninja girl escaped?” and this whole thing could be put behind him.

You can’t just do something like this, One of the nagging, nattering voices in his head spoke up, You can’t just pick and choose what parts of Talon you’re going along with, and what parts you won’t, and you know it. This isn’t taking a joyride with Seye on one of the hover dollies, this is actively undermining--no, betraying, Talon. And for what?

Aedan looked over at Rei, her face hidden by the assassin’s helmet.

For what?

She’s a weapon. You’re literally handing a weapon right back to Overwatch. You’re going to have to face her one day---the two of you are going to be on opposite sides of a battlefield because you couldn’t do what had to be done tod---

“Can I ask you something?” said Rei, snapping Aedan out of his thoughts.

“Shoot,” said Aedan with a shrug, thankful there was something to interrupt the train of anxiety.

“What was your mother saying back there—the thing that kind of sounded like sneezing?” asked Rei.

Right, she’s still a bit out of it, thought Aedan. “What?” said Aedan.

“A-hesh-keh,” said Rei.

“A thaisce?” suggested Aedan.

“Yeah, that,” said Rei.

“Oh—“ Aedan reddened a little, “She just… that’s… just what she calls me…” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Irish, right?” said Rei, “What does it mean?”

Aedan felt his own face burning and then folded his arms, “It… means ‘My treasure,’” he said, figuring there was no use in lying about it.

He expected her to snicker or tease or worse at that, but she didn’t. The eyes of the assassin’s faceplate just gleamed a little. A smile? “Hey,” she said, pointing a thumb at herself, “Sunshine--Well... ‘Sunneschii.’ You’re not the only one who still has a baby nickname.”

“Of course you’re ‘sunshine,’” said Aedan, quietly, smiling a little beneath the Labtech mask.

“Moira…She loves you, doesn’t she?” said Rei, “Like… actually loves you.”

“Wh—Of course she loves me, she’s my mother!” said Aedan, “I mean… sure, I wasn’t… born like you but…” Aedan didn’t really know how to finish that sentence.

“...so my mom was right,” Rei said quietly, “Moira didn’t have you... she made you.”

Aedan was silent for a few seconds, then straightened his shoulders and forced a grin. “Well of course,” he said, gesturing at himself with a faux-grandiloquence, “Designer.”

Rei looked at him a blankly.

“Designer... genes...” Aedan said a bit weakly.

“Are you... okay?” Rei tilted her head at him.

“Fine, just...” Aedan made a waving gesture next to his head, “Trying to figure things out. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Rei extended a hand and touched his arm. He looked from her hand, to her. Her expression, naturally, was unreadable with the red faceplate of a Talon assassin, but somehow there was something steady in the orange glint of her visor.

“...Thank you,” she said after a beat, “I... I still don’t know if this is all some sick game on Moira’s end but... if it isn’t... you’re risking a lot. So thank you.”

“Not that your skepticism isn’t fully justified but... what’s it going to take for you to see this isn’t some sick game on my mum’s end?” said Aedan.

“Getting back to Gibraltar,” said Rei.

“...Fair,” said Aedan, “I’ll do my best to get you there, then.”

The lights suddenly dimmed and an alarm started blaring.

“This is the stupid part of the plan, right?” said Rei, looking at Aedan.

Aedan checked the timer on his comm. “...nnno,” he said slowly, “It’s about 8 minutes too early for the stupid part.”

“Oh...” said Rei, “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

“We’ve been in trouble, but now we’re in more trouble, yes,” said Aedan.

#Reidan #follow for more Gency kid facts #Moiraspawn

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buriednurbckyrd · 7 years

Text

Valentine’s Day Do-Over

Sequel to Lose Control Bucky wants to give you a good V-Day after learning of a dark cloud hanging over the day in your past. (Also available on AO3)

Valentine's day: one of the most polarizing days of the year. People seemed to either love it or hate it. Bucky was trying to figure out which category Y/N fell in, but she was irritatingly vague about the whole thing whenever he tried to casually broach the subject. He was still nervous about navigating their relationship, and the thought of doing anything that would disappoint or upset her was unbearable. Just when he thought he was at his wits end, he caved and went to the one person that knew Y/N better than he did.

“Ah, V-Day,” Natasha tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Here's the thing, Barnes, Y/N is at her core, a hopeless romantic.”

“So I should plan something?” He asked.

“Well...” She looked uncomfortable. “To be honest I'm torn between loyalty to my best friend, and the desire to finally see her have the Valentine's day she wants and deserves.”

“I don't follow, why would there be a question of loyalty?” Natasha sighed and sat down, motioning for Bucky to join her.

“A few years ago she was seeing someone,” she began as he took a seat. “It was going well, and he asked her out for a typical Valentine's date night. She was so excited, but he called her half an hour before he was supposed to pick her up and canceled.”

“Why?” She let out another long sigh.

“He told her that there was a work emergency. Of course she was disappointed, but she understood. I thought it would be nice to go out anyway, since she was already dressed up, so I called up the restaurant and used Tony's name to get us a table. It's amazing how fast a supposedly booked restaurant will find room when there's a billionaire involved.” Bucky began to suspect how the story was going to end and felt ill. “So we get there, dressed to nines and ready to enjoy a fancy dinner thanks to Tony's credit card and who do we see when we walk in?”

“Do I even have to guess?” Natasha shook her head sadly.

“That asshole is wrapped around another woman in a very un-work related way. If the whole thing hadn't been so infuriating I might have laughed at the cliché of it all.”

“Bastard.” Bucky growled and clenched his fist so hard his knuckles popped.

“I could have twisted his arrogant little head right off his neck, but Y/N just gives the hostess that charming smile of hers and before I know it she's pulling me back outside like nothing happened.” Natasha picked up a throw pillow and punched it. “The worst part of the whole thing is that she was sure she deserved it. Of course she'd never say that.”

“No, she wouldn't...” Bucky said quietly, almost to himself. It was something he knew all too well about her. Even before their relationship had turned romantic he would find himself fuming when she let people get away with treating her badly. And if anyone confronted her about it she would just shrug as if it was just the way things were. “What did she do?”

“Nothing. We came back here and she went to bed. A few days later she leaves for a few hours and when she comes back she raids Tony's liquor stash and gets spectacularly drunk without any explanation. Steve and I had to help her to her room and she finally cracked.” She paused and looked at him seriously. “I'm still not sure I should be telling you all this.”

“I'm not sure I want to hear it, but maybe I need to so I can understand her better.” Natasha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“While we were putting her in bed she started crying...”

...

“I'm sorry.” Y/N sobbed. “I'm sorry I'm such a mess.” Steve tugged her shoes off of her feet and smiled gently at her.

“It's okay, sweetheart, everyone has bad days. You don't need to apologize.”

“I can take it from here, Cap,” Natasha told him. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem,” he looked over at the crying woman with worry. “I've never seen her break down like this before.” He whispered.

“Neither have I, she doesn't really drink. And I can't remember the last time she was this upset.”

“Maybe she'll talk to you. Call me if you need anything.” Natasha thanked him again and shut the door behind him. She walked over to her sniffling friend and helped her out of her clothes and into some pajamas.

“Alright hon,” she said, handing Y/N a bottle of water. “Drink some of that and tell me what happened. Where did you disappear to?”

“I went to see him.” Y/N said miserably. “I just wanted to know why.” Natasha swallowed down her anger, knowing it would only upset her friend more. “She answered the door. Laughed at me. Told me he was done playing with the pitiful fat girl...”

…

Natasha's voice trailed off. Bucky felt an ache in his chest, too many emotions swirling inside for him to process. “She spent the rest of the night sick and miserable, but after sleeping off one hell of a hangover she never brought it up again. If I tried to talk to her about it, she'd change the subject.”

“I know you didn't just let him get away with it, even if Y/N wouldn't do anything.” She smirked.

“Six months later he married that woman. Huge, tacky society nonsense, with a very expensive and lavish honeymoon planned. It was such a shame that he showed up to the airport only to find he's on the no fly list and the whole thing had to be canceled. I hear his new bride really let him have it and they had to be escorted out of the airport by security.” Natasha shrugged. “I never claimed to be nice. Y/N has all the sweetness in this friendship.” Bucky laughed.

“I'd say that was a pretty light punishment for you. Still, I bet it was pretty humiliating. But what should I do? Does Y/N hate Valentine's day because of that idiot?”

“I wouldn't say she hates it, but I just think she doesn't expect anyone to make a fuss over her.” Bucky mulled the new information over in his head. Y/N's indifference made a lot more sense to him after hearing Natasha's story.

“Thanks, Natasha,” he said, getting up. “I'll figure something out.”

…

Y/N called out a greeting as she walked into Tony's workshop. He wasn't working on anything yet, so the deafening music he usually had playing was absent.

“Hey, T. I braved the crappy weather and surprisingly packed cafe so I picked up your favorite.” She placed a large to go cup next to him.

“Don't know what I'd do without you, sweetheart.” Tony took a long sip of hot coffee. “Oh yeah, that's the stuff that makes life worth living.” He raised an eyebrow when she took a seat at his table and pulled her laptop out of her bag. Y/N looked up as she opened it.

“What? I thought I'd enjoy my coffee and check my email. I told you the cafe was packed.”

“Not that I don't enjoy your company, but why here? Why not just go to your office?”

“Because then it's like I'm working. If I'm in here, then it doesn't feel like I've started my day before I'm ready to.” She gulped down some of her drink and clicked away at her keyboard.

“So you haven't been to your office at all yet?” Y/N paused at her typing.

“No? Are you trying to get rid of me, Tony?” He scratched the back of his head.

“No.”

“Liar. If you don't want me here, just say so.” Y/N snapped her computer shut and tucked it under her arm. Tony darted in front of her and held his hands up.

“Hey, I don't not want you in here. Really.”

“Okay… Well I'm already half way into my storm out, if I don't finish it it'll be so lame.” Tony laughed and kissed her forehead.

“As someone that appreciates a good storm out, I won't stand in your way. Thank you for the coffee.”

“You're welcome. Now please slam the door behind me.” He laughed and let the door shut hard in her wake before pulling his phone out of his pocket. She's on her way to her office, he typed out and hit 'send'.

Y/N switched her coffee into her other hand, wishing she had just put her computer back into her bag like a normal person. She tightened her arm against it to keep it from slipping out of her hold and punched in the security code to unlock her office and lab space. As she walked inside she flipped the light switch with her elbow and set her things down on a desk with relief. As she propped her door open she spotted something brightly colored out of the corner of her eye and gasped when she turned to look. A bouquet of red, white, and pink carnations sat on her main lab table in a simple glass vase. With a smile she buried her nose into the petals and inhaled the light, sweet scent. She plucked the card off the plastic stick.

I know you like these more than roses. I got you flowers because I like you more than anyone else, but I think you already knew that. I love you, Doll. -Bucky

“Oh, Bucky...” she sighed happily.

“Happy Valentine's day.” Y/N whirled around in surprise. Bucky stood in the doorway, looking a little awkward, but he was grinning.

“These are beautiful, thank you.” She threw herself into his arms, giggling when his hands slid down to her butt. “You sir, are incorrigible.”

“I can't help myself. You're my best girl, and you have the best ass.” He leaned down and kissed her.

“Mmm, I don't know what's got you all frisky today, but I like it.”

“I was hoping you wouldn't mind ditching work for the day.” Y/N draped her arms around his neck.

“I could be persuaded. What would I be doing instead?” Bucky pulled a pink foil wrapped chocolate heart out of his pocket.

“Being my valentine?” Y/N felt her heart melt inside her chest and settle into her stomach.

“As long as you'll be mine right back.” she replied.

…

Bucky had a quiet day planned. He called dibs on the theater room and had a stack of Y/N's favorite movies waiting for them to watch, thanks to Natasha's help. He hadn't seen most of the films, and it was one of their favorite things to do together.

“A movie day?” Y/N looked around at the set up.

“I thought it would be fun.” he said a little nervously. Maybe it wasn't enough and she expected more.

“I love it, Bucky. It's perfect.” She hugged him. “Can I go change into something comfy, though?” Bucky cleared his throat and pulled away.

“Actually, I um, got something for you.” He handed her a clumsily wrapped package.

“What's this?” She carefully tore the paper open. “Oh! You thought of everything!” It was a pair of fleece pajama pants covered in a heart pattern.

“You like them, they aren't too cheesy?” Y/N shimmied out of her jeans and pulled them on.

“I love them, they're adorable,” she kissed his cheek. “Just like my amazing boyfriend. I have something for you too, actually.” she said a little shyly.

“You can give it to me later, right now it's about you, okay?” Y/N felt a lump catch in her throat and blinked back some tears before nodding. She couldn't trust her voice for a moment, overwhelmed by everything Bucky had already done for her.

The two of them settled in, deciding to begin with The Princess Bride, cuddling on one of the oversized sofas. Bucky found himself in his favorite spot, reclining against Y/N while she ran her fingers through his hair, it never failed to relax him. There were a few moments during their viewing that he found himself nearly nodding off, her touch soothing him to the point of being drowsy, so he finally and reluctantly shifted.

“I have more chocolate.” He said, offering more of the foil covered hearts. He unwrapped one for himself and popped it in his mouth.

“I think it's cute you went and got Valentine's stuff,” she giggled after biting into one of the candies. “I'm kind of glad you didn't get those conversation hearts, they always tasted like chalk to me.”

“I remember those from when I was a kid, I always thought they were gross too.” He put his arm around her and she nestled against his side.

…

Several hours and movies later, Bucky decided he was hungry for food that wasn't chocolate or heart shaped. They were both too comfortable to want to go out for dinner so Bucky suggested they order a pizza.

“Actually, why don't you let me cook you dinner? I picked up a couple of steaks yesterday when I went shopping. Plus I can give you your gift.” Y/N stood up and pulled him to his feet.

“You don't have to cook for me, and I can wait for my present, Doll. I wanted this day to be for you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“And I've had a wonderful day. From those beautiful flowers, to a whole day watching my favorite movies, just being with you and not worrying about work… But you're my Valentine too, and I want to give you something because I love you.” Bucky smiled.

“Okay, I guess you make a fair point. But using that look on me is cheating, you know I can't resist it.”

“It's not my fault you're powerless against me. Maybe I'll start calling you The Winter Softie.” Bucky growled and kissed her hard, nipping at her lips and making her giggle. “James! If you want food you have to stop manhandling me!”

“Maybe I changed my mind and I want to skip right to dessert.” He ran his lips over her jaw and he could practically hear her resolve crumbling.

“You're playing really dirty, you know that right?”

“I can't get enough of you, Doll.” He murmured.

“The feeling is very mutual, but I really want to cook you a nice dinner. I didn't just happen to buy all the ingredients, I kind of planned on surprising you tonight.”

“Huh?” He stepped back. “I thought you weren't into the whole Valentine's day thing.” Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“If you thought I wasn't into it, why did you plan all of this?”

“So you wouldn't hate it anymore?”

“Who said I hated Valentine's day?” Crap.

“Uh… Well you kept blowing it off whenever I asked you about it, never giving me any kind of idea whether or not you wanted to do anything. So I um, asked Natasha for advice.” When she only continued to stare at him, Bucky swallowed and continued. “She told me what happened a few years ago.” Y/N sighed and sat down on the couch, resting her forehead against the palm of her hand. “Please don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad, Bucky. I should have just given you a straight answer. I'm not thrilled that Natasha told you about that, but I'm not angry.” She lifted her head up and Bucky wanted to kick himself when he saw tears in her eyes.

“But you're upset, and that's the one thing I never wanted to do.” He crouched down in front of her and cupped her hands in his. “Don't let some idiot that didn't know what he had ruin something for you.”

“You didn't upset me. I'm not even really crying because of him either. I wouldn't let him have that much power over me. Yeah, what happened was very hurtful. Yeah, I had to cry about it and feel really shitty. And maybe for a few years I wanted to hate this day because it reminded me of a time when I didn't feel great about myself. Then you came along and I started thinking that maybe it is just a silly holiday that doesn't mean a whole lot, but there's nothing wrong with celebrating it. I thought it was important to you, because you kept bringing it up.”

“I just wanted to make this your Valentine's day memory. Instead of what happened before. I just wanted you to be happy.” Bucky said quietly.

“You make me happy every day, Buck. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise. It's hard for me, to let someone in, you know? I hardly think about that guy, but I guess I carry that baggage around with me, even if I don't realize I do.”

“You make me happy every day, too.” He told her, wiping a tear away with his thumb. Y/N smiled and kissed his lips gently.

“Can I cook you dinner now that I ruined Valentine's day?” Bucky laughed.

“You didn't ruin anything, and yes.” He took her hand and pulled her up. “Give me a hint about my present?”

“There's two parts, actually. First part is… something that you wear.”

“Give me a better hint.” She giggled.

“It's a new motorcycle jacket. I saw it and I started to fantasize how you'd look in it so...” They got on the elevator to go up to her floor. Bucky backed her into the wall, caging her between his arms.

“And part two?” He asked, his gaze on her nearly predatory.

“Something…I wear.” Bucky's fingers crept under her shirt.

“Oh, Doll, you know I want to know more.” She ran her hands up his chest and gripped his shirt.

“Something I won't be wearing for very long.” The elevator doors opened and he pulled her out, taking long strides towards her private rooms.

“We're definitely having dessert first.” Y/N laughed, blissfully happy that she'd finally had a Valentine's day worth remembering.

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #plus-sized reader #bucky x reader #fluff

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onceuponanolicity · 7 years

Link

When summer rolls around again, Oliver has plans that do not include being near Felicity, only once she lands into trouble, there is no other place he wishes to be than by her side.

Oliver landed at his mother’s Alma Mater for the spring semester. There Oliver had been determined to keep on the straight and narrow for one reason alone. His peace of mind.

He shoved thoughts of Felicity aside and buckled down to actually get some school work accomplished. Not that he didn’t still party and make out with a large amount of beautiful women. The fact that he joined a fraternity pretty much guaranteed the last two.

So, it was with a changed frame of mind that Oliver landed back in Starling City for the summer. He was ready to spend some time with Tommy and just relax. Maybe go out with Laurel for their planned weekend away in Costa Rica. The one they planned after they spent the week in Ibiza for their spring break. As it was, it looked like their time this summer was limited since Laurel planned to intern with some law firm over the summer.

The first thing on Oliver’s agenda was to hook up with the model he met at the last fraternity party before the summer. She was supposed to be having a layover in Starling City tonight and Oliver planned to wine and dine her in style before Laurel came home. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d spend the night wrapped in long legs and blonde hair.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Felicity was so ready for the summer. Starling City was beginning to rub her raw. She no longer fit into what her mom wanted and Felicity refused to conform to the norms of society just because they thought that an almost fifteen year old should be all girly and rocking out to Destiny’s Child and No Doubt. She’d much rather brood and pound out the tunes from Death Cab for Cutie and Linkin Park. That didn’t exactly make her popular and even Sara had shied away lately from who Felicity was turning out to be.

It felt wrong to be away from the girl who Felicity still considered her best friend, but they had less and less in common. Sara became really popular over the past year. All the while Felicity faded into the background in her own little technical world. It was where she was discovering who she was. Online, Felicity felt powerful. She could create code that even some adults were amazed by. It was liberating to find her niche. Hacker extraordinaire.

In that world, Felicity could be whoever she wanted to be. As strong as she wanted to be. Not the girl who was a freak or the one who people whispered about at school. Not that it made much difference what people at school thought about her. She wouldn’t be there much longer. MIT had accepted her into the summer program, allowing her to begin her college classes sooner than she ever dreamed. By the fall, Felicity would be a college student, not just a high schooler. So, all of those kids who made fun of her could go screw themselves. She was going to make something of herself. And it all started with the keyboard under her fingertips.

“You ready to do this?” Seth asked her from the darkness of the corner where he set up his own system.

Felicity cracked her knuckles and smiled at him. “You bet.”

Seth smiled over at her. “Then let the hacking commence.”

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Oliver Queen had no plans to see Felicity. After talking to Sara, Oliver wasn’t even sure if he would have an opportunity. She was supposed to head over to Massachusetts for school in a week or so for summer session. Yet, he never pictured the worst situation he could land in would also cause him to do just that.

“You peed on a reporter?” Moira sounded incredulous as she signed the paperwork that would get him released from jail. “And a cop?”

“The reporter deserved it,” Oliver said with very little remorse. The guy was an asshole and Oliver had been drunk. The guy wanted to grab a dick pic as Oliver leaned on the wall to relieve himself after a long night of drinking. As far as Oliver was concerned, the guy got just what he had coming to him. “As for the cop,” Oliver said with red staining his cheeks, “it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Oliver Jonas Queen, I’m disappointed in you.”

Glancing over at Tommy, Oliver noticed his friend was having the hardest time trying to keep a straight face as his mother dressed him down. Oliver glared at him wishing he could shoot him the finger without his mother seeing. It was Tommy’s fault he was in this situation to begin with. In fact, Tommy had been there when the whole incident went down, but he managed to get away without being nabbed by the cops. Bastard.

“You realize this is on every news station.” It was not a question. “Your father is fielding calls while meeting with our lawyers in an attempt to keep this from going to court.”

“Excuse me, Mrs. Queen,” an officer addressed her apologetically. “We have another person ready to fill out paperwork for release. We… We need the area. It involves a minor.”

“Of course.” Moira graced the young officer with a smile. She signed the last of the papers with a flourish and handed him the paperwork.

The officer accepted them, glancing at them with a critical eye to make sure everything was correct. When he looked up, he nodded at Oliver’s mother before addressing him. “Mr. Queen, you are free to go.”

Oliver jumped off the table he sat on and went to grab the door handle ready for his escape. When he did, he found Donna Smoak standing there nibbling at one of her precious fingernails. She never bit them. She never looked this frazzled before either. It made Oliver worry. Reaching out, Oliver captured her shoulders in his hands. “What happened? Where’s Felicity?”

Tommy rushed over to Oliver’s side and the two of them shared a concerned look. This could not be good. Donna was there and there was supposed to be a minor in the room. Felicity was a minor.

“Ms. Smoak,” the officer called out from behind them. “You can come in now. They were just heading out.”

“Who was that?” Moira asked as she joined the two boys and Donna swept into the room.

“Felicity’s mom,” Oliver threw over his shoulder as he tried to push his way back into the room. The officer blocked his way with a stern look on his face.

“Donna,” Tommy called out, once the officer began to close the door. “Can we help?”

She turned and nodded. “You can let them in.”

The officer did not look happy at this turn of events. “Are you sure, Ms. Smoak?”

“Yes. Please. They are practically family.”

Oliver didn’t know about that, but if that meant that he could be in that room, he would admit to being a purple elephant. Leveling a look at the officer, Oliver challenged him to not let him and Tommy back in.

The officer finally stepped back and allowed them entry. Oliver let Tommy go in first. He needed to talk to his mom so she wouldn’t worry. “Tommy will drive me home. I promise I’ll come as soon as this is finished.”

“I’ll expect you by dinner, Oliver.” She gave him a stern look that said that she refused to have him show up one minute later.

Nodding, Oliver shut the door. He found that the officer had left the room through the door they had brought him in. The one that led off to the jail section of the building. How had he not seen Felicity before now? Especially after spending the entire night in a jail cell. But that did not bother Oliver half as much as his other question. What had Felicity done that would cause her to be arrested in the first place?

“What happened?” Tommy asked the top question on their brains. “And how can we help?”

Donna swiped a tear from her cheek. “All I know is I received a call from some detective that said that Felicity and a group of kids were brought into the station earlier this morning. They refused to tell me why over the phone. I rushed right over here.” She waved down at her cocktail dress. “I didn’t even have time to dress. Not that I have any idea what one would normally wear to a police station to pick up their daughter.”

“Mom!” Felicity came into the room and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

“Baby.” Donna hugged her tight and then pulled her back to search her face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Sit, Miss Smoak.” A man dressed in a suit came through the door and glared at Tommy and Oliver. “Oh, look. The criminal brigade.”

Tommy seemed taken aback by the man’s attitude while Oliver stood there clenching his fists. The two of them had dealt with jealousy, intolerance, and hatred before but never with such vehemence from someone they had never met who was supposed to be an upstanding member of the city they lived in.

The black man held out his hand to Donna. “I’m Detective Franklin Pike, Ms. Smoak. I was the arresting officer.”

“Arrested?” Donna glanced down at Felicity who had taken the chair Pike had indicated. Her face was laced with concern. A much different look than the anger and disappointment that Oliver had seen on his own mother’s face. “What did you do?”

Detective Pike took a seat across the table from Felicity and laid out some papers he had gathered inside a file folder. “Miss Smoak and her friends decided to hack into the police radio frequency and create chaos. It resulted in a miscommunication with the local fire department.”

“Felicity Megan Smoak,” Donna placed her hands on her hips and waved toward the paperwork, “did you do this?” When Felicity let out the briefest of nods, Donna threw her hands up in the air and spun around on her heels. Her hands came up to her face, holding it, before going back down to her hips while she faced her daughter. “How stupid of me. Of course you did this. Were you with this new group of friends of yours?”

“Mom, I…”

“No, it’s my turn to talk, young lady.” Donna pointed at her daughter, a disappointed frown lining her features. “First, you are going to apologize. To everyone. Then you are banned from every electronic until you leave for school next week. And you are no longer allowed near this,” Donna made air quotes with her fingers, “group of friends.”

Detective Pike shuffled some papers. “I’m afraid it is a little more serious than that. But,” he glanced at Felicity and frowned, “I did speak to Judge Cross regarding her school.” Pike rose becoming more intimidating. “He was not happy. What happened could have cost lives.” At Donna’s shocked gasp, Pike’s eyes fell on Felicity’s mom. “Luckily, it did not. He also took into account her age. He agreed to thirty hours of community service without her having to come to court.”

Tommy stepped forward. “Can it be postponed until she returns this fall from school?”

Detective Pike nodded. “Yes. So long as she puts in at least ten hours of it before she leaves, the Judge was willing to wait for her to finish the rest.”

“Did you hear that, young lady?” Donna’s voice was sharp, sharper than Oliver had ever heard it. However, the smile that she graced Detective Pike with was vastly different than the tone she had just used on her daughter. “I think it might be possible for her to be able to complete most, if not all of it, before she leaves.” Once more Donna turned to her daughter and the smile dropped. “Because she is going to find herself bored out of her mind over the next week.”

Oliver walked over and placed his hand on Felicity’s shoulder, but she shook it off. “I’ll work with you.”

“While community service is an honorable occupation, Mr. Queen, I don’t think it will help with your own situation. Don’t expect that it will sway a judge with your charges,” Detective Pike said with derision.

Damn. Oliver was really beginning to hate this man. “I’m doing it for her, not a judge.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Felicity mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

“Felicity, if I were you, I’d thank Oliver and begin to figure out how you are going to apologize to the entire police and fire department,” Donna said with her arms crossed and a six inch heel tapping on the hard concrete floor.

“Yes, mom.” Felicity appeared defiant more than compliant despite the words that came from her mouth.

Detective Pike held out a hand to Donna again. “I’ll have an officer come in with the papers for you to sign and then Felicity will be free to go.” He turned to Felicity and snapped his fingers to get her attention. “I advise you to be more aware of what you are doing, Miss Smoak. Hacking can get you into very serious trouble. You were lucky this time.”

Tommy jumped into the chair that Pike vacated after he left and placed his hand on Felicity’s arm that laid across the table. “Hey. Things are going to be okay.” He nodded up at Oliver. “Ollie and I are will help you get through community service. We’ve done it enough times.”

Felicity jerked her arm away and jumped up from her chair knocking it over. “I don’t want your help. I didn’t ask for it. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Felicity Smoak, apologize right now.”

“No.” Felicity crossed her arms and glared at the two guys.

“Uh-uh.” Donna waved a finger in Felicity’s direction. “You may have inherited your father’s smarts, but this sass? It will end right now, young lady.” Donna’s eyes flashed with anger. “Your friends are here because they wanted to help you after you got yourself into trouble.”

Felicity waved at Oliver. “Seems he gets into enough trouble all on his own. Are you sure that’s the influence you want for me?”

Donna’s eyes shot between the two of them. “You know, I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but I advise you to fix it if you don’t want to lose the friendship forever.”

Oliver walked over and placed a hand on Donna’s arm. “Do you mind if I talk to her for a minute? In private.” He pointed to the mirror in the room. “You can watch from outside.”

“No,” Felicity spoke up. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

Donna nodded. “Five minutes.” She turned to her daughter and leveled a look that spoke volumes. “I expect you to behave yourself. I will be back in when they bring in the paperwork.”

“Me?” Felicity spewed in disbelief. “He’s the one who peed on someone. Two someones.”

“It’s not nice to spread rumors, Felicity,” Donna reprimanded.

“But…”

Oliver noticed that Tommy bit his lip to smother his laughter as he came over to lead Donna from the room. “We’ll be outside.”

The door closed behind them leaving Oliver alone with the one woman he had no wish to see. The same one that he couldn’t forget no matter how much he tried. The one who looked ready to spit nails if that meant Oliver’s death.

Oliver rested back on the table and studied her. Her hair had grown down past her shoulders and her clothes had gotten darker. Not one bit of color resided on her unless you counted the dark purple lipstick. The only reason at all Oliver could tell it was purple was because of the harsh fluorescent lights overhead.

“So, I take it the computer works well,” Oliver said with just a small level of levity. “I’m assuming that is, that the computer I bought you is the same one that was confiscated when the police arrested you.”

“Yeah, so?”

“I bought that…” Oliver was going to say because he had hoped to make her happy, but decided to change tactics. “I bought that computer so that you could use it for school.”

Felicity shrugged. “It was a Computer Club thing, so technically it was for school.

” Oliver tried to hide his smile. “Am I right in assuming that Starling City High School has yet to hear about this little incident? Because I have a feeling that the club will be disbanded pretty quickly.”

“It’s summer,” Felicity said with a slight shrug as she leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms.

“I wouldn’t expect the group to still be there come fall.”

“Neither will I.” She shrugged again. “Sort of.”

Oliver jumped down from the table and approached her. “Let Tommy and I help you. It’s what friends do.”

“Friends?” Felicity’s eyes rimmed in heavy dark eyeliner hit his. “From the moment we met we have never been friends. Not really. No matter how much we tried.” Her finger came out and slammed into his chest, something that she would have never done before. Felicity usually shied away from touching him. “So, the way I see it, you’re not my father or my brother, so stay the hell out of my business. And stay away from me.”

Oliver tried not to flinch. Not from her finger which would probably be leaving a permanent bruise on his skin, but from her words. “I guess I’ll leave you alone then.”

“Good.” Felicity pulled her hand back nodding. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Oliver stood there for a moment lost. It had finally happened. He had lost Felicity. There was a permanent fissure between them. Not only that, but she kicked the remaining piece of his heart out the window with her words. He opened his mouth to say something, but there was nothing that he could say. There was no fixing this.

Turning, Oliver went to the door and pulled it open. Walking in a straight line, Oliver made his way over to Tommy’s side as Donna scurried back inside.

“Whatever she said, I’m sure she didn’t mean it, Ollie,” Tommy told him when they reached his car.

“She meant it.” Oliver knew that for sure.

“She’s upset,” Tommy tried to qualify as if that made a difference.

Oliver pounded the roof of the car and stared over at his friend. “She’s was right, okay? Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Never stopped you before,” Tommy told him with a glance back at the precinct. “Not with her.”

“It’s probably time to start listening then.” Oliver shook his head and slid into the car. “She’s smart enough to know what she wants and that’s not me.”

“Right now,” Tommy said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oliver turned to his friend in confusion.

“It means that I have seen the two of you together,” Tommy said as he started the car.

“And?”

“And nothing.” Tommy shrugged and pulled out of the parking lot. “You’ll both figure it out eventually. If you don’t mess it up like you do everything else.” Tommy glanced over at Oliver before made a turn. “Give yourselves some space. More like time, since you’ve already had space with you at college. When the time is right, I have no doubt that it will hit both of you hard.”

“Shut up, Tommy.” Oliver diverted his eyes out the window. Time and space were already commodities that Oliver had allowed himself. Neither seemed to help. Because the second that his back was turned, Felicity ended up back into his life.

Tommy laughed. “Got it. Shutting up now. But in case you wanted to know, I set up Felicity’s volunteer work with Donna. We are going to be at my mom’s clinic in the Glades tomorrow through Tuesday. And then Wednesday we’ll be working at the women’s shelter down the road.”

“You just told me to give ourselves space.”

Tommy smiled and winked. “There’s space and then there’s space.”

“Okay,” Oliver said still confused as to where his friend was going with this. “Let’s just assume I’m too stupid to figure out the difference.”

“If you should just happen to run into us when I suggest that we get lunch, then you might be allowed to join us.” Tommy turned down the road that lead straight to the Queen Mansion. “Or if Wednesday night after we’re finished I suggest to Felicity that she come back to the mansion with me for dinner to keep me company and my best friend just happens to show up… I can’t turn a buddy away, if you know what I’m saying.”

Oliver considered this for a moment. He shook his head. “Tomorrow Laurel and I are flying to Coast City. I promised her a beach day before she starts her internship on Monday.”

“Wednesday it is.” Tommy winked as he turned down the Queen’s driveway. “I’ll tell Ingrid to keep an extra place setting hidden until you get there.”

OQFSOQFSOQFS

“Please, Tommy,” Felicity pleaded as they entered the Merlyn Mansion on Wednesday night after a hard day of working at the women’s shelter.

“No,” Tommy told her sternly. “I am not going to let you use my phone.”

“I just want to tell the guys bye. My mom won’t even let me call them. They don’t deserve radio silence.” Felicity pulled her hands up to her lips and tried to bat her eyelashes like she had seen her mom and Sara do. “Please.”

“No.” Tommy turned to her and crossed his arms, his expression cross because she had been going off on this since they left the shelter. “Your mom doesn’t want you in communication with them and part of your punishment is no technology. You can just wait until you’re at MIT to communicate with them.”

“But, I’ll be a whole country away then.”

“Here.” Felicity turned toward the new voice in just enough time to catch the phone that was tossed to her.

No sooner was it in her hand than Tommy swiped it back out, glaring at his best friend. That apparently was not enough for him because he took the few steps that separated them and slapped the phone against his chest. “You’re not helping.”

“Funny. I thought that was exactly what I was doing,” Oliver said with a wink over Tommy’s shoulder at Felicity.

“What are you doing here besides being a pain in my ass?” Tommy asked him.

“You too?” Felicity asked because she was wondering the same thing. She thought for sure that she had seen the last of Oliver Queen. She had a trash can full of tissues to prove it.

“Hey,” Oliver said as he pointed at her. “And here I was the one who was willing to give you the phone that you asked for.”

He did have a point. Damn him.

“I decided to have dinner with my best friend,” Oliver finally said with an underlining bit of anger. “But I didn’t realize that all I was going to get was crap.”

Tommy let out a sigh and turned to Felicity. “What do you think?”

Felicity gave him a shrug. “It’s your house.” Waving at the door, Felicity began to move towards it. “You two can share dinner and I’ll just catch a cab back home.”

Tommy snagged her arm and drew her back. “Uh-uh. Your mom would kill me for putting you in a cab, which you will not get outside my house since you are a good fifteen minute walk to a main street. Plus, if you head home she’ll kill me again since she’s not there to make sure you stay on your no technology ban.”

“I hate you,” Felicity spat at him. Tommy was being a real prick about this whole thing. It was like her mom had hired him as her own personal babysitter.

“Were we this stubborn at her age?” Tommy asked Oliver with a sigh.

“Worse,” Oliver told him with a laugh. “We had the money to get away with all the crap that we set our minds on.”

“Says the man who pissed on a guy not five days ago.” Felicity crossed her arms and glared at him. Both guys’ eyes landed on her. Neither looked very happy. Yanking out of Tommy’s hold, Felicity leveled them with her own disapproving gaze. “I’m going to go find Ingrid and see if she needs help with dinner.”

Before she had gone too far, Oliver caught up to her. He towered over her and Felicity backed up and ended up smacking into the wall of the hallway. Oliver followed her and ended up blocking her. There was nowhere to go. So, Felicity went with the only mechanism she had left. Sarcasm. “What?”

Oliver continued to stand there staring down at her. It made her feel uncomfortable. Not because she was scared of him. She never had been so there was no reason to start now. It was more because of his hypercritical study of her. It caused a piece of her to react in such a way that she never felt before. For the life of her, she needed him to touch her and she didn’t know why.

Her thighs clenched together to keep herself together. When he reached out, she wanted to have it run across the puckered nipples that pushed against the fabric of her cropped off sweatshirt. Instead it touched a piece of her hair and smoothed it behind her ear.

His other hand jerked her forward and she felt something slide into the back pocket of her jean shorts. She was certain it was his hand until she was able to see both and still felt it back there.

“It’s a burner,” Oliver told her as he stepped back. “Be good or else I’ll tell Tommy about it. Got that?”

Felicity reached back and pulled the phone from her pocket, nodding. “Thanks.”

Oliver jerked his head in the direction of where they had left Tommy. “Hide it if you don’t want him to find it.”

Felicity lifted her gaze so she could study him. “Why are you doing this?”

He shrugged and shoved his hands into the back pockets of the shorts he wore. “Call it a going away present.”

She did not plan to do it, but before her mind could register that she was, Felicity leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Oliver blushed and backed away. His eyes drifted down from her and he shifted his feet for a moment before he fully turned to go.

Felicity did not know what to think of the whole interaction. Oliver swung hot and cold so often that she strained to keep up. And with him away at college she had gotten out of practice. This new Oliver who was willing to confront her and then turn around and help her confused her even more. She hoped to find out more about why at dinner, but it seemed after giving her the phone he had left to go home.

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Tommy came home later that night after dropping Felicity off at home to discover Oliver up in his room spread over the bed with a glass of Scotch in his hands. “How many of those have you had?”

Oliver glanced down at the amber liquid in his hand and frowned at it. “Not nearly enough.”

Tommy threw his wallet and keys on the nightstand and shoved his best friend over on the bed to make room for him. “Things seemed like they might be okay between you and Felicity. Why did you bail for dinner?” Tommy snatched the glass and threw back the remaining liquid. “More than that, what’s with the pity party?”

Oliver snagged the glass back and leaned over to grab the bottle to refill it. He took a large sip from the bottle before he returned it to its original position by the bed. “The pity party was in the shower while you were enjoying dinner.” Oliver held up the glass. “This is the follow up. I needed to forget about the pity party that I had in the shower.”

“Okay, and I can’t believe I am saying this, but what are you talking about?” Tommy scooted over so he could stared at Oliver.

“She kissed me.”

Tommy studied him. His expression grew more and more confused as he sat there. “How? When?”

“On the cheek.” Oliver drowned his drink and poured some more. “I wanted more. How sad is that?”

“Thus the pity party,” Tommy noted nodding at the drink.

“Thus the pity party,” Oliver repeated nodding toward the in-room bathroom Tommy had. Oliver handed Tommy the glass and decided to settle on what was left of the bottle. He tugged it over hugging it for a moment before taking a long drawl of the soothing liquor.

They sat there in silence, drinking. Eventually, Oliver rose from the bed and went for his phone.

Tommy stood also and asked him, “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling my driver,” Oliver told him calmly. “I’m in no state to drive.”

“Are you going home?”

Oliver shook his head and began to dial only to have Tommy push the phone down. “I need to get laid. Fast.”

“Once again, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hope you’re heading to Laurel’s.”

Oliver knew exactly why Tommy was pushing for Laurel. Laurel would talk him down from whatever insanity had set in. Oliver shook his head again. “I don’t want Laurel when I’m thinking about Felicity.” Oliver had already been down that road. It wasn’t fair to either of them.

“Then I’m coming with you,” Tommy announced as he went to go grab his keys and wallet.

“You don’t have to,” Oliver told his friend. “I’m fine on my own.”

“It’s not up for debate,” Tommy said closing Oliver’s phone and pocketing in Oliver’s polo. “Walker can drive us.”

OQFSOQFSOQFS

Oliver woke up the next morning with his head pounding and his mouth drier than a desert in the middle of summer. Cradling his head he pushed himself up in bed only to crack one eye open enough to realize it wasn’t his.

A sidelong glance had him notice the red hair spread across an adjacent pillow. It brought a swift moment of mirth into his hellish existence. He hadn’t done a red head in years.

“Where are you going, handsome?” A naked Asian woman entered the room carrying a tray laden with a few large glasses of water and three steaming coffee mugs.

An Asian and a red head? They weren’t even his usual go to types. He must have been on a real bender the night before but Oliver couldn’t remember why. Snagging a glass of water that the woman offered, he also notice there were some aspirin. Taking one of those as well, Oliver swallowed them both back.

The woman took the empty glass from him, setting it aside. Then she handed him one of the coffee mugs, smiling at him. Oliver was not in the mood for small talk, but she seemed of the same mind because she circled the bed and nudged the other woman awake with a hand. Oliver rose quickly setting down the mug of coffee he did not want. While the women were distracted with good mornings, he grabbed his shorts from the floor. What he needed was a bathroom.

Turning to ask where he could find one, Oliver discovered the two women kissing. The red head pulled the Asian woman down on top of her. Right, Oliver thought. Now was the time to leave. Hell with the bathroom. He could find one somewhere else.

Oliver ran around the room gathering his things and almost tripped heading out the door. He stopped momentarily to dress and make sure he had his wallet and phone. He would need to call his driver to come pick him up. Swiping a hand through his hair, Olive opened the door of the apartment. The second he shut the door behind him, he stopped short wishing he hadn’t locked it behind him.

“Oliver?”

“Ms. Smoak.” Oliver nodded at her. Then he wanted to melt into the ground as Felicity stepped around her mom. “Felicity.”

“Rough night?” Ms. Smoak asked with a twinkle in her eye and a small smile at the edges of her lips. She reached out and captured Felicity’s ears in her hands before she whispered. “You’re shorts are unzipped.”

Shit. Oliver turned and fixed his pants. When he faced them again he was blushing. “Sorry.”

“You’re an adult, pumpkin,” Donna assured him.

Felicity didn’t look quite as agreeable as her mother and he was pretty damn sure it had nothing to do with the look she was trying to portray with her Gothic look. She stood there arms crossed over a black mesh crop top over a black sports bra with her usual black shorts and fish nets inside combat boots. Boots that looked ready to make their home up his ass. “Did you have fun?”

“Felicity, what a horrible thing to ask,” Donna admonished. “Sorry, Oliver.” Donna turned and glared at her daughter. “You and I should get going. We’re already running late.” Donna began to push her daughter down the stairs that they had been descending. Donna smiled over at him and waved. “Bye, Oliver.”

“Bye,” Oliver told them. The second they were gone, he grabbed a hold of the wooden pillar nearby and rammed his already aching head into it repeatedly. Fuck! What the hell were the chances?

@almondblossomme @miriam1779 @1106angel @lovethishealthylife @sunshine0977

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whatifexo · 7 years

Text

Corona - Part 1 (Kai)

(A hacker meets a spy...things have gotten interesting.)

Part 2

The average person can type between 38 to 40 words per minute. According to Google, that translates to about 200 characters per minute. Professionals can type twice as fast, ranging from 325 to 335 CPM. While that may be an impressive speed, you don’t necessarily consider yourself a ‘professional’ in comparison.

If anything, you’re more of a prodigy.

And this is neither a bluff nor an exaggeration.

While the pros are doubling the standard typing speed, you’ve got triple on the pros themselves. For the record, you’ve never actually counted out all the words you’ve typed out in a day (because that’s what newbies do), but Jongdae claims to have done so one rare day he wasn’t busy annoying the heck out of you through your earpiece.

You supposedly hold the world record by a landslide, but besides you and Jongdae, the rest of the world has no idea.

Not even Junmyeon is aware of your true potential.

And no one else can ever find out because naturally, they’re probably going to kill you. But the idea of showing off your skills and achievements has always been distasteful for you anyway, so you’d rather stick with hacking things for a living than becoming part of the president’s trophy display case.

“Corona, we’ve spotted target Zero,” as always, Jongdae’s voice is unbearably loud through your earpiece. It’s unfortunate that you’re in too much of a rush to yell at him for bursting your eardrums. “He’s heading to the Southside of that seafood restaurant on 24th street. He has the package, but I’m gonna need you to take care of the cams to his nine o’ clock first.”

“Already done,” you smirk as Jongdae sighs. ”Honestly, Chen, when are you going to learn that you’re never going to beat me at the CCTV game?”

“I at least win over you in the martial arts department.”

“Debatable. The results of our last sparring practice prove otherwise.”

“You little-“

“Will you two shut up and let me do my job here?”

Your fingers freeze for only half a fraction of a second over your keyboard at the sound of the third voice before you continue delving into the tracking system on the monitor to your right. Junmyeon usually never intercepts your team’s private calls, but the fact that he went out of his way to risk revealing his voice only goes to show just how shaky this mission has gotten.

“Gramps!” you yell a little louder just to spite Jongdae. “Nice of you to join the party.”

“I have news from team B.” you power on your fifth computer screen as Junmyeon speaks, cracking your knuckles in preparation. “This guy is a slippery one. He’s Hesun’s new ace and he’s already evaded the three checkpoints we set up downtown. I have his name. His real one, that is: Zhang Yixing. Corona, can you pull up his profile?”

You let out a low whistle as you scroll through his info, easily overriding passwords and firewall upon firewall. Gramps wasn’t joking at all. The guy is the real deal. He’s only been working for Hesun for a month and he’s already been sent on 64 deliveries. His kill rate remains unknown, which makes you nervous.

Not knowing a potential murderer is like throwing Jongdae into a lion’s den. Blindfolded.

Your gut and instincts have always been your closest allies, and the heavy feeling in your chest doesn’t help to comfort you.

“Wait,” the point on your tracker immediately stops blinking, signaling that Jongdae has remained frozen in position. “This might as well be a trap.”

“I’m listening.” Junmyeon says, and you can just picture him raising a tense brow in his office.

“No one in Hesun has carried out this many deliveries in one go, and it’s almost impossible for Yixing not to get caught, no matter how good he is. His injury counts are also surprisingly low for someone who’s documented to have gotten involved in so many street fights. I bet a million won that he’s not alone. He may even have a team with him.”

Jongdae curses, loudly, of course, as soon as you finish giving your little spiel.

“He’s walking into the front of the restaurant. Not discreet at all. It almost seems too easy.”

“Jong- Chen. Get out of the there. Now.”

“Careful, Gramps,” you warn him through the receiver. “You’re going to blow our cover.”

Your fingers begin doing their magic as you pull up a larger map of Seoul, scanning the whole area as quickly as you can before Junmyeon starts peeing his pants or something. He may be your leader, but he’s still a nervous wreck. Kind of like a father, you guess. He’s so protective over his guys that he may just one day keel over from a heart attack due to severe stress or anxiety.

There’s a reason why you call him Gramps.

“We’ve got trouble,” you discover bad news just a mere three miles away from Jongdae’s position. “Hesun sure has upgraded its big bad vans. They’ve got satellites on that thing trying to track Chen down. I can momentarily freeze their system and mask our location, but we have five minutes to pull out before the vans arrive. Maybe even less if Yixing notices that we know what they’re up to.”

“And the package?” Junmyeon sounds so nervous he’s probably biting his already brittle nails on the other side of the line.

“Negative.” you confirm. “I’m sensing another hacker on the other side trying to do exactly what we’re trying to do. This is for sure a trap.”

“A very poorly done one at that.” Jongdae quips. You’ve been working with this guy long enough to know he’s found something out from his excellent observing skills. “Forget this gig. I know where the real package is.”

~~~

Before you became a computer genius, hacker extraordinaire, before you became Corona, you were just a naïve delivery girl. Just another innocent civilian trying to make a living out of this cruel, consumer driven power hungry world.

You worked the night shifts most of the time because the pay was greater. Deliveries consisted of drives that ranged from quick, fifteen minute drop offs to elaborate locations that were thirty miles outside of the city.

You weren’t complaining. You didn’t ask questions about the packages you dropped off, wasn’t concerned about the early or late hours you were working, or the way the recipients never showed their faces when you knocked on their doors.

But then you saw it.

The dark figures surrounding the fence of a quaint little house in a quiet cul-de-sac. The glint of a blade. The light in the kitchen, clicking off in an instant.

You heard the scream. One petrified shriek cut off by a horrible squelching noise. Gurgling. Choking. The quick exit of a dozen footsteps.

You were only 17 then.

Three years later, you’ve quit the job and have turned completely against Hesun. You met Junmyeon and Jongdae and formed a small, but formidable team.

Gramps, Chen, and Corona.

There are others as well, though you have no idea who they are. You don’t even know what their code names are. But you’re fine with that. You find that knowing less people is better because they’re easier to protect. The stakes are higher, but you can easily keep tabs on these two precious men in your life.

You’ve succeeded in doing this for the last three years.

Just as long as your little family remains exactly like this: small and manageable.

~~~

“Well I’ll be damned.”

Junmyeon circles his desk once, twice, and digs his fingers in his hair before releasing the longest sigh of the century.

In front of him sits the package Jongdae had stolen only hours ago from one of Hesun’s local post offices, the package your team has been searching all over Korea for. Months and months of painstakingly reviewing official government documents, staking out to catch sleazy deals made under the table, and sending Jongdae on incredibly risky missions.

All that work for one sheet of paper wrapped in an overly complicated parcel, carefully creased in the center with a jumble of numbers.

0400, 35.8562129.2247 –K

It didn’t take much time for Junmyeon to decode what all of this means.

“Have you confirmed the coordinates?” he asks you, and you spare him a glance from your laptop long enough to notice the dark, sunken circles under his eyes and the crinkles around his usually ironed collar.

“Those dumb bulbs probably thought we can’t understand military time, so they’ve spelled it all out for us. They’re going to meet Kai at around four in the morning in Gyeongju.”

“I’m not quite following this guy’s plans,” Jongdae swings his legs over Junmyeon’s pristine desk whilst ignoring the latter’s death glare. “He can’t possibly be working for Hesun. Four years in jail because of those rotten jerks and on the day he’s released, he’s going to work for the bad guys?”

Junmyeon loosens his tie before shoving Jongdae’s muddy shoes off the surface of his desk, coughing none too guiltily when your ‘most skilled fighter’ falls off his chair.

This is why Junmyeon absolutely detests holding meetings in his office. That is, unless Jongdae is absent. But it’s not really much of a meeting when Jongdae is gone, and your own home base is off limits so Junmyeon doesn’t really have a choice.

“I don’t believe Kai is that naive, Jongdae,” Junmyeon takes the now empty seat beside you to look over your shoulder where you’re busy with hacking into the CCTVs around Gyeongju. “It’s a reckless plan, but this is his way of getting revenge, and he is going to get killed no matter how good of a fighter he is.”

“What a shame,” you tsk, pulling up a fake ID (a very poorly done one at that) of the famed ex-inmate on your screen. “He seems awfully handsome too.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes from the floor and Junmyeon guffaws.

Kai. Twenty two years of age. Upheld the title of Ruler of the Cells, because prisoners have nothing better to do other than fight each other. His real name is unknown. Gone. Erased even from police records. Any solid personal information on him is unknown, no matter how hard you try to find it. At 18, he was framed with a bank robbery and the murder of a friendly banker.

He was sentenced to at least twelve years in prison, but he is somehow being released earlier. No doubt Hesun’s doing. The company who gave him the wounds is also feeding him the medicine.

And he’s going to accept it.

“Unfortunately, we’re going to save his handsome face.”

“Why unfortunately?” you frown at Junmyeon, but he’s already pulling a pale faced Jongdae to his feet and straightening his tie.

“Oh.”

You’d almost forgotten that Jongdae is the reason why Kai was ever framed.

~~~

Jongdae hasn’t used his actual name in public since the day of his supposed death. Legally, he’s registered as a citizen of Korea under Kim Chen; an actual star chef the world has forgotten about since the destruction of his image through a scandal with racy women’s magazines and a nasty divorce with his wife of ten years. Jongdae is only a cleaner version of Kim Chen who is living a mostly quiet undercover life.

‘Mostly,’ because Jongdae was also the supposed banker who was supposedly killed by Kai.

A world of ‘supposes’ has plagued Jongdae all his life. It all started with Hesun, of course. Suppose he follows their orders and succeeds in protecting his parents. Suppose he rises through the ranks so he may one day pull out from the company entirely. Suppose he plays along with the illegal delivery of slush funds between this politician and that corrupt CEO.

The tragic results are this: He plays his part, pretends to die, and lets Hesun run away with the money. He throws an innocent boy in jail. He loses the chance of ever living normally. His parents are dead despite the promise of protection upon his cooperation. He roams the streets for nearly a year before Junmyeon picks up his battered body and soul and trains him to become part of the team.

Oh, and he’s going to meet Kai again.

Face to face.

Alone, with a mere hacker and an emotional wreck of a boss for backup.

This is the generous punishment that Jongdae has been given.

~~~

“I’m going to quit. I’m going to the Bahamas and take off on my yacht using Gramps’s life savings and I’ll be sipping on piña colada in solitude.”

“I do wonder if you’ll ever grow the balls to say that to his face.” you chuckle, activating Jongdae’s night vision on his specs with a click of a button.

“After tonight I don’t think I’ll get the chance to while I’m alive anyway.”

An alert message pops up on your screen as Jongdae continues to contemplate his last few hours on Earth. A blue dot on your tracker has appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, from around the corner where Jongdae is circling Gyeongju’s park.

Uh oh.

“Any last words, Chen?”

“Where is he?”

“Behind you.”

“Mother of-“

You can only hope that Junmyeon still has that first aid kit lying around in his office.

~~~

More than anything, Junmyeon is a man of words.

He managed to bluff through being Hesun’s ally, romanced the heck out of his wife, and persuaded his allies to join his side for revenge. For justice. Whatever that means nowadays.

It’s perfectly reasonable that he also be the one to convince Kai into joining your team. You can’t say that you agree with this plan, you actually think that it’s one of the worst ones yet, but you trust Junmyeon and he’s taken care of you for all these years.

He knows what he’s doing.

Expect maybe he underestimated the simmering anger that Kai has held on to for all this time.

“Wow.” Jongdae deadpans as soon as you walk in the meeting location, an underground bar that’s packed with people for camouflaging purposes.

You’re dressed in black from head to toe, hood pulled up with a—surprise, surprise---black mouth mask covering half your face. Very rarely do you ever come out of your home base, and whenever you do it’s usually just to go to Junmyeon’s office or the dumpling place down the street. Obviously, your wardrobe doesn’t need to be so extravagant.

Besides, it’s not like you’re heading out to a date or something. Who cares if you look like the grim reaper coming to collect Jongdae’s soul?

Speaking of whom, is currently clutching a cup of ice in his bleeding hand.

“I think you should take a good look at yourself first.” you stare down the blooming bruise on Jongdae’s jaw, and for the first time, you see him flinch painfully when you lightly brush your fingers over his swollen skin.

Usually, he would reply with a joke despite the injury, but his eyes aren’t on you anymore. You follow his line of sight to where Junmyeon, still in his suit and tie, approaches you at the bar table with a dark silhouette trailing closely behind him.

Jongdae attempts to sleekly hide behind you.

Junmyeon is all smiles.

“Lady and gentleman, I’d like to introduce the newest member of our team.”

You’re the only one clapping.

“Impressive,” you gently pry off Jongdae’s iron hold on your hoodie as you crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the infamous Kai. “I figured you’d take at least a full day to convince the man.”

“I wasn’t the only one doing the negotiating.” Junmyeon winks, and you just barely manage to hold in a grimace.

“That’s real sleazy of you, old man, but I’m more interested in the new dynamics of our team.”

Your eyes have returned to Kai, his face barely visible with his hat pulled down. You can only catch glimpses of a strong jawline, hollow cheekbones, a cut lip. For a moment, you watch him turn his head ever so slightly to survey the place. You follow the visual path he takes around the crowded place.

The mixture of con-artists, ex convicts, high profile officials, and innocent office workers dancing on the floor. The lone barista, a short but built man whose face defies the science of aging. The empty and half-full drinks littering the bar table. The emergency exits at all four corners. And finally, at your team.

The moment your eyes lock, your body is inclined to shudder under his piercing gaze.

“I don’t drink.” he says suddenly, and you shoot him a puzzled look.

Does this guy have an imaginary friend or something? He’s more mental than you thought.

Except his voice is serious and sharp as icicles. He still hasn’t torn his gaze off of you, even as you turn your body in your seat to encounter the young looking barista standing stiffly behind you. He has a glass of an unknown substance in his hand, stretched out in offering.

“Hmm,” he hums thoughtfully, retracting his arm to drink some himself. “I hate to waste such good whisky on a good evening, but I’ll forgive your pretty face just this once.”

Clearly, Kai has no plans to humor him. There’s a second of uncomfortable silence in between the DJ switching songs and your team at a momentary loss for words. Junmyeon’s eyes nervously flicker from the barista to Kai. As the music resumes, the defeated barista slinks off dejectedly to the other side of the counter to polish some glasses.

“What a crowd pleaser.” Jongdae mutters, and Jongin automatically shoots him a hardened look.

Your body is yanked backward upon Jongdae’s frightened grip on the hem of your hoodie, and you silently plead for Junmyeon to do something before this mission completely crumbles at the hands of your newest member.

Gramps clears his throat in an attempt to save the situation, but half of his fake cough is drowned out by the blasted EDM thumping from the speakers. This is good news for you as it would be impossible now for outsiders to hear your conversation.

“Pardon our teammate, he has an unexpectedly soft heart.” Junmyeon makes a point not to look at Jongdae’s offended expression, but you can see his jaw flex in slight irritation. “Anyway, this is ________ ________. Our prodigy hacker. You may have heard of her as Corona.”

“What, he gets to know my real name and I don’t get to know his?”

“I apologize. It was part of our deal, __________.”

“What deal?” you narrow your eyes at Junmyeon, your suspicion brimming.

Junmyeon never compromises fairly unless it is absolutely necessary. He’ll pretend to compromise, make it seem like an even deal, but the other party will later realize that all was in his favor after all. This is how he convinced you to ‘work’ for him, when you wanted nothing more to do with Hesun. He’d coaxed you to make use of your randomly expert computer skills. To make up for the mistake of delivering those illegal items you were unaware of. For taking part in worsening the corruption in your country.

It all sounded awfully patriotic and noble then, but it didn’t take long for you to discover that Junmyeon just needed someone to do half of the dirty work for him. Jongdae does the other, more dangerous and risky half.

And as much as you were cheated, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Junmyeon. His intentions are reasonable, he genuinely cares for his people, he proves to be smarter and more cunning than his outwardly ‘nice guy’ appearance.

You suppose he had to toughen up in some ways after his tragic past.

Since then, he never let anyone take advantage of him ever again. This compromise he’s made is a huge step from his usual character.

“You all have a new mission,” he announces, rolling up his sleeves. This has been a habit of his whenever he’s getting excited or forming an elaborate plan in his head. “Successfully take down Hesun.”

“Ha ha, nice one old man, as if we haven’t been trying to do that for the past three years.”

Jongdae’s finally lets go of your hoodie before he can stretch the fabric beyond repair.

“You are missing the point, Dae,” Junmyeon huffs. There has been a change which leaves a wonderful advantage for us. We now have eyes inside the company.”

You get it.

You sneak a peek at Kai, who holds your gaze hostage as soon as he notices your shifted attention.

Although you’re slightly scared for your life, you’re beginning to see the interesting events that could possibly come.

~~~

It’s not like you all haven’t tried spying before. About a year ago, a newly recruited member on team B was sent to apply for a driver position at Hesun, but was quickly found out and nearly killed if it weren’t for Jongdae hauling his butt out of there within minutes.

You believe his name is Byun Baekhyun. He’s currently still a part of team B, but Junmyeon continues to keep a close tab on him and no longer sends him out on missions.

Spying has become out of the question with the inexperience of your organization. Another time, you volunteered to do it, but Junmyeon firmly refused and actually stopped speaking to you for a good month just for bringing up the idea.

Now that he’s on board with this kind of plan again, you’re almost hesitant to follow along. Almost. Having the ‘Ruler of the Cells’ on your side is somewhat reassuring despite his title sounding downright childish and straight out of a video game.

You’re going to have to trust Junmyeon’s judgment if your gut agrees with him.

“I don’t like this at all.”

Jongdae’s call comes as a yellow ping! on your screen, and since he’s using the emergency function, you don’t have to say hello for the call to go through.

“Get off my fake hotline, Chen. This is only supposed to be used for emergencies.”

“This is an emergency. A matter of my coworker possibly stabbing me in the back at any moment. Literally and figuratively.”

You sigh, setting your chopsticks down and moving your bowl of ramen over to protect your newest baby, a sleek digital keyboard leaving streaks of neon purples and pinks wherever your fingers land. This is the new tool you’re going to use to communicate with Kai.

It’s a big upgrade compared to the old and bruised up keyboard you use for Jongdae.

“Don’t tell me you’re just jealous because the new guy has all the good tech.”

“He does, though! Automatic shoe blades, radar and infrared specs with an updated gps and tracking software, state of the art earpiece, a loaded weapons belt, heck, the old man even bought him a new outfit altogether!”

You smirk, remembering the image of Kai from earlier walking in a back alley in formal dress on his way to a meeting with Hesun’s gangster bosses. Even through the blurry CCTV cams, you still caught the glint of a pin on the right side of his chest, the same one Junmyeon wears with all of his suits.

He didn’t necessarily buy anything new. His own closet makes a sufficient shopping mall.

“So you’re telling me you’d rather play the undercover spy,” you type one handedly on your keyboard whilst reaching for your chopsticks for another bite of noodle. “For the updated gear, that is.”

“What makes you think he’s actually loyal to us?” there’s a hissing noise from the other end of the line, followed by a groan and a thud. Not Jongdae’s voice. He’s once again chatting while out on a mission. “He got scouted by Hesun as a spy. They hire exactly three spies every five years. That goes to show that he’s more than capable of getting revenge himself and ousting our identities.”

“He has no reason to give any tips to his enemy. And besides, he knows he needs allies before he can even dream of getting back at the people who ruined his life. ”

You stop suddenly in the middle of tapping into a concealed meeting room Kai is currently in.

You’re defending him. For some crazy, unidentifiable reason, you’re rationalizing his actions. Normally, you would’ve ditched as soon as you heard about a new member joining. No one has touched your team for as long as you’ve been here. You hate intruders. You don’t like outside people, period.

Yet you’re giving the new guy a chance.

Maybe Junmyeon isn’t the only one who’s changing.

No…..you’ve both just arrived at the same conclusion.

Your team needs Kai. Maybe even more than he needs your team.

”Corona?” Jongdae brings back movement in your fingers. His breathing has become labored and the distant yelling combined with gunshots tells you that he’s making his escape through the agreed exit route.

“I have to go,” Focus, ________. “There’s a not-so-secret meeting I have to tap into.”

~~~

On a normal night, or should you say early morning, you would be making a second bowl of ramen and reviewing a weekly schedule Junmyeon provides to help you with your hacking jobs. You would be updating your systems or surfing through open ports to download recently released video games for free. Maybe you’d be sprawled on your hammock in the living room, catching some shut eye before Jongdae’s next shift.

You wouldn’t usually be standing outside your heavily guarded door in your Mickey Mouse bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, staring incredulously at the man in front of you.

At 3:35 in the morning.

“What in the hell are you doing here?”

You rarely cuss, even when you’re under the greatest amounts of pressure, but this situation is calling for all swear words in existence at the sight of Kai at your doorstep. It’s more of a booby trapped mat he’s standing on in front of a garage door, but he’s standing on it nonetheless, perfectly unharmed.

IM. POS. SIB. BLE.

Kai, still dressed in his meeting clothes blinks back at you calmly. He holds up a manila folder and dangles it in front of your face, stamped with a logo you know all too well.

You could care less about its contents at the moment.

“How did you find this place?” you’re going for a demanding tone here, but the robe and fuzzy slippers probably aren’t helping. “How did you bypass my alarms? My security alerts? Are you out of your mind? Bonkers? A genius? I’ve made it impossible to track me down and yet-“

A quick memory flashes through your head, of numbly heading home from that night at the underground bar after Junmyeon first introduced Kai. You’d had a couple shots to drink. Your hazy senses didn’t bother to confirm the prickly sensation you felt on the back of your neck, the insistent barking of a neighbor’s dog, the flickering light of a lamp post around an alleyway corner.

You let your guard down at a critical time.

“You followed me.”

“You sure talk a lot for a recluse.” you catch Kai’s lip quirking slightly, and you’re yet again left dumbfounded.

Is that amusement you’re seeing?

“Why?” his intent gaze makes you pull your robe tighter over you. “Why do you care so much about who I am and what I’m doing?”

“I like to know whether or not the people I’m working with are trustworthy.”

Trustworthy.

He’s already ruined that kind of impression the moment he met your eyes at the underground bar. He may look ordinary now with his clean business attire, his hair pushed back, buttons neatly lined up. But you know all too well what kind of scars and secret intentions he may be harboring beneath the surface.

Yet you’re still out here entertaining him.

“I don’t think Jongdae would like the sound of that.” you throw in a curveball, testing Kai’s buttons. Hopefully not pressing too hard.

It works for a split second.

Cold anger lines his face before he pushes it back and relaxes. The corner of the manila folder in his hand wrinkles under his grip.

“His concerns are none of my concern.”

Gulp.

You remind yourself never to have the two hooked up on the same phone line when you’re working. At least then they won’t be able to hear each other and Jongdae could be saved from being verbally slaughtered.

“What have you found about him?” as discreetly as you can, you lean on the garage door to conceal your finger stretching for the emergency button on the wall.

“He’s a world class idiot who doesn’t deserve another breath in this world, but he has good skills.”

To be fair, his response was better than you’d expected, but not all that reassuring either. After saying that last compliment, Kai looks as if he’d just swallowed a bitter pill.

“I’m not going to kill him,” his eyes shift downward. “So you can take your hand off that button.”

You only hesitate for .5 seconds before pulling away from the wall.

“Fair en- hey!”

That slight hesitation was all Kai needed to shoulder past you and make his way toward the actual front door of your secret home.

On the brink of panicking, you consider several options.

One: Actually press the emergency button. Two: Ring up Junmyeon. Three: Reach for the gun under your car, fire and never look back. Four: Kick him where it hurts and run.

All plausible solutions. All requiring risk.

You choose none of them.

“Wait.” before you can think twice about it, you’ve grabbed hold of Kai’s wrist.

As he stops and turns to look at you, your heart slams against your ribcage in fear immediately. What did you just do? What have you done? Regret, regret, regret, regret. A million conflicting thoughts cross your head.

Then they all halt in an instant.

Kai, a somewhat rigid, unknown figure to you who can freeze water with his icy stares, winces in front of you.

You pull away as he struggles to hide the pain that creases his eyes.

“What happened?” you try to say more demandingly, but your voice comes out softer than you’d intended.

You were wrong.

This is not the look of someone who plans on harming you or your friends. Raiding your secret base and threatening you with your uncovered location was not Kai’s intention. Perhaps he’d also wanted to see the girl behind the computer screens, but he’s mainly come to deliver information about the ‘secret meeting’ he had with the enemy.

Nothing more, nothing less.

You deduce this all before Kai even responds.

“There was a suspicious guard by the entrance, and I had to change his mind about me before I left.”

“You didn’t….” you trail off, licking your lips nervously.

“I’m not a killer.” he scowls, practically hissing the word ‘killer’ through gritted teeth.

Guiltily, you shake your head, reminding yourself that Kai wasn’t someone dangerous to begin with. He had just been an average Joe then, unaware of the tragic future that lay ahead of him. Set up, falsely accused, thrown in a tangle of revenge and betrayal. He’d been forced to toughen up during the long days he spent in prison.

If only he hadn’t crossed paths with that cursed company, if only he’d taken the day off from taxi driving, if only he didn’t make for a perfect alias, he would have saved himself from a ruined reputation.

He’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time.

He’s just like the rest of you on the team.

A wave of sympathy drowns out your suspicion and panic. You turn away to your heavily locked door before Kai can notice the emotion that’s flooded your face.

You know he doesn’t want your pity.

“Stay here,” you don’t fail to notice the way Kai is now gently stretching his wrist. “I’ll be back.”

~~~

Before you can change your mind, you quickly begin cleaning up the mess in your home. The task is a daunting one as you’ve never had a single visitor in years. It takes at least fifteen minutes for you to remove the junk food and other dusty clutter on your table and countertops. It takes another five minutes to collect your dirty clothes from the corner of the living room and chuck them in the laundry basket, and with no time to spare, you power off all your computer screens and tightly shut the door to your working space.

You allow yourself to catch your breath for a few seconds before letting Kai in.

Just as you’d predicted, he surveys the area with one sweep of his eyes as soon as he steps inside.

Your personal space is a small one. One floor, four cramped rooms that consists of the bathroom, kitchen, living room, and the bedroom which you’ve converted into your hacking zone.

With another person inside, it’s easy to feel slightly claustrophobic. Kai’s presence is especially intimidating with his polished shoes, suit and tie, and his dark hair that shows no signs of disarray.

You try not to think about the challenge of what you’re about to do.

“Please, sit.”

He raises a brow at the couch and the first aid kit on the coffee table, taking a seat with questioning eyes.

You cough awkwardly, making sure to leave space between the two of you when you sit beside him.

“We might as well fix that wrist of yours.” you shrug, and Kai seems genuinely surprised that you noticed as if he hadn’t been so obvious about his discomfort.

“May I?” you reach for Kai’s injured hand. He hesitantly places the manila folder on the table before holding out his arm.

“Thank you.” he says quietly.

You hadn’t noticed it in the dimly lit garage, but now that his skin is under the light, you‘re able to see his bruised knuckles. Blood is still oozing out of deep cuts. You guess that this fight was almost fairly matched.

You ignore the urge to ask about it.

“About the meeting,” you change subjects to keep yourself focused elsewhere, casting your eyes down as you roll up Kai sleeves and dig into the first aid kit for the saline wash. “I want to know what happened after the mic failure.”

Before Kai went into the meeting room, you’d asked that he placed a bugging device in his jacket pocket so you can listen in on the conversation. About half an hour in, the audio stopped working and you could hear nothing more.

“I don’t know if they caught on that I was recording, but the man I was talking to did have an earpiece in his left ear. He kept fiddling with it whenever we were about to discuss my role as a spy for them.”

“How convenient,” you scoff, carefully dipping a sterile cotton pad in the saline. “They probably anticipated that you were going to record for blackmailing. There must’ve been a detector in the room. Explains why I was getting such unnatural frequency levels.”

Setting Kai’s hand on your knee, you lightly dab the cotton pad over the cuts on his knuckles. Strangely enough, now that you’re talking, you no longer feel the awkwardness of having a stranger over and bandaging his wounds only by your second meeting.

Keeping this all professional may be the answer to your incredibly low interpersonal skills.

“There wasn’t much you missed, but they did ask me to do something strange.”

You look up briefly from curiosity.

“How strange are we talking here?”

With his free hand, Kai tugs at his tie and unbuttons the top of his collar, brows furrowed in concern.

“They want me to break into the Blue House.”

There’s a brief period of silence.

“They what?”

Kai’s hand jolts in surprise on your knee. You look down to see that you’ve heavily pressed on his wounds.

“Sorry,” you focus your attention back to first aid, discarding the pad and ripping open a packet of gauzes. “Hesun’s getting braver by the minute. They have guts to try something so risky. We might have to speed up with our own plans.”

Not to mention speeding up your lack of solid plans.

Junmyeon had forgotten to tell Kai about an essential trait of your team: a slow ability to make decisions. You swear you’ve witnessed Jongdae and Junmyeon engaging in a few rounds of rock, paper, scissors in between team meeting breaks. You’re pretty sure that’s also how they decided to let Kai in the team.

“They didn’t disclose the information to me, but I guess that this has something to do with bugging the president’s office. Or possibly retrieving classified documents.”

“Of course,” you huff under your breath, wiping away the excess saline with extra gauzes. “Hesun has a talent for making a James Bond movie over everything. When are you going?”

“Two weeks from today.”

“We’ll have an emergency meeting with Gramps and Jongdae as soon as we can, then.”

“Gramps?” Kai snickers.

“It’s an inside joke thing we have.” you dodge Kai’s curiosity for the sake of Junmyeon’s privacy and begin to wrap a bandage around his wrist. Already, there’s a dark red spot seeping through the gauze. You reposition his hand and lift it slowly so you can tighten the bandage, his skin warming your fingers.

For some reason you find it hard to look up.

“Be careful next time.” you say without thinking. “Try not to beat someone up again and nearly break your hand in the process while you’re at it.”

“Is my accuser worried about me?”

You register that he’s referring to you suspecting him for killing the suspicious guard. Embarrassment floods your cheeks, and on reflex you squeeze his wrist.

As soon as Kai yelps in pain, you bend over to blow at his hand.

“Oh geez, I’m so sor-“

It was a mistake to look.

Simultaneously, you’ve both moved to blow out the pain, and suddenly you’re face to face with a pair of startled eyes. From this close, you can make out a faint scar that runs down the center of Kai’s chin, and another at the corner of his mouth.

His features are less sharp from up close, less calculating and serious. With his lips slightly protruded in mid blow, he no longer seems like the daunting boy you were so wary of.

A fragile silence rests between you and you’re not entirely sure if it’s worth breaking it.

“WARNING. WARNING. CODE ORANGE.”

Ah, that should be your cue.

You spring apart faster than you’d expected, and Kai morphs back to duty mode as he whips his head around to look for the source of the noise.

There’s no point in hiding your precious children now.

“It’s my security software.” you race for your hacking room, throwing the door open to find all of your screens flashing with an alert you fear you’re seeing for the first time.

Kai is hot on your heels. He stands and watches from behind you as you begin typing an extensive code to access the CCTVs planted around your hideout.

“What does it mean?”

“Hopefully not what I think it is.”

You’re too focused to be concerned over Kai closely watching you. He may not even understand most of what you’re doing, so it’s relatively safe to show him your work. Besides, the bigger threat is the program that’s awakened since you’d first installed it.

You meant for it to function as a safety net. A backup in the case of trouble. You were confident you would never need its use.

It takes several minutes of you searching through every angle of the cameras, prompting the program to look with you, before you spot it. A black van with soundless engines rolling through the streets. Nearly imperceptible in the darkness, still several blocks away, but headed towards a way too familiar route.

Code orange.

There’s only one meaning behind it but you hoped it was only a mistake.

“Prepare for shutdown,” you command the program, breathing in to calm your nerves. “There’s an intruder on the way.”

#kai #kai scenarios #exo scenarios #exo scenario #exo #guys this is probably the hardest series ive ever written #bcuz there's a shit ton of world building i gotta do but i love it so much #hopefully you love it back #IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK

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onlymorelove · 8 years

Photo

Credit should be given where credit is due; my post was inspired by this post by @timelesstheories and this post by @twilight-deviant. I’m creating a separate post instead of reblogging because when you reblog, the reblogged post doesn’t show up in tumblr’s tracked tag system. I don’t know about you, but that’s a huge part of how I find specific tumblr content I’m interested in.

I want people to be able to find this post if they’re interested in Timeless, character or fandom songs,etc. The main tag I’m going to use and track for this and similar posts is “NBC Timeless character songs.” Please feel free to use that tag yourself if you’d like to play along and talk about songs that you envision matching various Timeless characters and/or relationships. I would love to see what songs other Timeless fans choose -- and talk about their choices. Maybe we can even get some discussion going over the long hiatus. Come talk to me about Timeless. (Yes, I’m still keeping my fingers and toes crossed that they’ll renew Timeless.)

*cracks knuckles* and settles in at the keyboard.

There are so many songs that remind me of Lucy/Flynn. If Rittenhouse had me at gunpoint, and I had to pick just one, it would be Pieces by Red.

You can see all the lyrics here. I honestly think the entire song fits them, particularly from Garcia’s perspective. For brevity’s sake, I’ll quote only a bit of the lyrics.

I’m here again A thousand miles away from you A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am I tried so hard Thought I could do this on my own I’ve lost so much along the way

Then I see your face I know I’m finally yours I find everything I thought I lost before You call my name I come to you in pieces So you can make me whole I’ve come undone But you make sense of who I am Like puzzle pieces in your hand

Their paths keep intersecting so they can have yet another juicy tête-à-tête away from the rest of the Time Team and Garcia’s merry band of misfits, but most of the time they’re apart. Flynn has “tried so hard” to take down Rittenhouse and bring his wife and daughter back to life. He has an almost unholy conviction in what he’s doing, but he’s also self-aware enough to recognize that things aren’t getting better, and he’s frankly a mess. He’s lost his family, but he’s starting to lose himself, too. He’s fragmenting.

(The poor guy needs his Lucy, and her journal his blankie makes a piss-poor substitute.)

Witness his conversation with the priest in 1x15, wherein he admits that no matter what he does, “…nothing gets better,” and then he asks for absolution. Remember his exchange with Lucy in 1x10:

“Say we do this. That we really… take out Rittenhouse. Then what will you do?” Lucy asked.

“Go home to my family. They’ll be alive again. Let my little girl jump into my arms. Hug my wife. And then say good-bye and walk away forever,” said Garcia.

“What? You would just… you would just leave them after all that we’ve been through?”

“Chasing Rittenhouse, I’ve done horrible things… become something else. How can I bring that into my home? What kind of husband or… or a father can I be after what I’ve done? We should keep moving,” Garcia replied.

By the way, that “…all that we’ve been through” kills me. Why does Lucy say, “…we’ve been through” instead of “you’ve been through”? Maybe it’s a throwaway word choice, but in the time-honored tradition of overanalyzing fandom text through rose-tinted shipper goggles, I choose to read it as significant.

I’m going off on a tangent now. I have other songs that remind me of Lucy/Flynn; I’ll post again at some point with further song additions and analyses rambling because Lucy/Flynn fandom is my 100% cacao dark chocolate jam.

#NBC Timeless character songs #timelesscentral #timelessedit #garcy #garcia flynn #lucy preston #nbc timeless #timeless meta #garcia x lucy #madebyme #i regret nothing #sorry not sorry #goingtohellinahandbasket #i am currently on a gondola ride down trash canal #fandom playlist #abigail spencer #goran visnjic #onlymorelove makes gifs

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miraclemin-blog · 8 years

Text

get what you deserve

Oh Sehun is hopelessly in love with Kim Junmyeon through the lens of his camera.

AU: idolverse. solo!junmyeon/fansite!sehun

written for my lovely friend courtney (follow her on twitter @/nomjoonie), i love her a lot and this has been rotting in my WiPs folder since July so today is the day i put her out of her misery. please enjoy my poorly cobbled together seho and find me funny. it fuels my ego.

title from: First Things First - Neon Trees

velleity ; noun /vɛˈliːɪti/

formal

A wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action;

Sunshine hurt his eyes and anything that wasn’t refracted by a camera lens was often too much for Oh Sehun; such was the life of a fansite master. He was all too familiar with two types of bags, those that belonged to his camera equipment and those that belonged to the late nights and too many coffees. Questions were also something he was intimately familiar with but, after the first two (?) years he’d managed to mute the sarcastic laughter that too often came with being the only, or one of the few, fanboys at events.

Kim Junmyeon’s events to be specific.

Things hadn’t really started out with his intentions being that of becoming a fansite master. It had been a few clicks here and there, a youtube playlist that soon snowballed into a spotify playlist. Buying Junmyeon’s discography had come soon after, and believe him, that was when he thought he was going to stop. Strapped-for-cash college students rarely even considered clicking the ‘buy’ button when scrolling through music on iTunes; but it happened and frankly he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

The money was good, much better than his shitty job at that bubble tea place was paying him (he wasn’t going to name names because he wasn’t successful enough to be burning bridges just yet). So yes, he was a fan, hell that went without saying if you were a fansite and frankly he had no respect for people that were in it just for the money. There weren’t many people that ran sites that weren’t heavy Junmyeon groupies — there were some and they were frowned upon. You could spot them at the fan signs, their only smiles were when they got a shot no other sites had gotten and they always left right after, staying to mingle with fellow fans was mostly definitely not their speed.

Fans knew those sites too though, and subsequently avoided them, hence why Sehun had risen to be one of the more popular sites. Mon Kim, the site run by Kim Jongdae, was also rather popular and Sehun actually had no issues collaborating with Jongdae occasionally. When it came to being a fansite, yes there was competition, but it was all within the interests of good fun.

They all loved Junmyeon just as much.

Or at least that was what Oh Sehun was trying to convince himself of at 5:30 am in the morning when he was running on a health five cups of double shot espresso and two (?) energy drinks. He’d lost count. It had gotten to the point that his fingers weren’t slow on the keyboard, so much as shaking enough to stop them from reaching their destination. While it wasn’t the healthiest hour to be up at, Sehun’s designer had bailed on him at the last second and he was desperately working to secure someone to design his latest fan site project — a feat that wasn’t simple when everyone else had already snapped up the more reliable in the field.

Flopping back in his chair a roll of whatever emotion you felt with the unease of if things were even going to pan out and right before you realised you had reached a point at which caring had stopped being your problem. It was an emotion that he’d felt probably too many times in his career as a full time fansite master but he knew that a roof over his head was worth not giving it up.

Sehun made a sad attempt at ridding his neck of the crinks that had settled in throughout the night but the bone deep exhaustion that had settled in made anything more that cracking his knuckles an arduous task. His chair creaked in protest as he clambered out of the leather bound creation, wincing as the wheels squealed in all their unoiled glory. It was probably a wise decision to do something about that; either by buying another chair in replacement or plucking up the energy to actually lay his hands on some WD-40 or something. In all likelihood he was going to buy another chair, because well, Oh Sehun just didn’t do manual labour that wasn’t taking pictures and elbowing people out of his way for said photos.

Bed was his welcome haven, inviting and warm as he slipped into the freshly pressed sheets. What was not so welcome was his phone, glaring through the darkness as he sleepily pulled up the ‘alarms’ screen, reminding himself unhappily that he would be getting up for the early cuing for one of Junmyeon’s fan greets the next day. The meet itself actually started at 11:30 but if he had any hope of buying any amount of albums he’d need to be there around 6:30 am but he’d allow himself until 7 am because by god he’d been working his ass off.

Sleep came to him slowly, defying any of the writing clichés of sleep swallowing you whole in a wretched night. Instead it rolled on like an insistent storm front, making itself at home on the outer edges of his consciousness and teasing him until it seemed like he wouldn’t have any sleep before he needed to be awake. Fortunately the universe had pity on him and his eyebags, leaving him with 45 hours of hard earnt rest before he even needed to consider even waking up and gathering the equipment he hadn’t had the forethought to pack up before he crawled into bed.

While it would usually be accurate to say that Sehun slept while thinking of Junmyeon, he didn’t even have time to drift to REM sleep before rude and sharp chirps were prying his eyes open. He forced himself to rise out of bed, immediately forgoing the option of a shower in favour of packing up his supplies. Actual solids were very much off the table with only time to grab a liquid breakfast before he tore out the front door, glasses skewed and eyebags still very much intact.

The things Oh Sehun would do for Kim Junmyeon.

Once again Jongdae and he were the only men in the line and while it did thoroughly amuse him, Sehun wasn’t about to push the envelope of Jongdae’s put out pout. “I wish more fanboys appreciated him.” There were about 1001 reasons that wasn’t about to happen any time soon but Sehun saved his friend the reality check and instead opted with pulling his camera out of its bag, checking the lenses carefully. Jongdae rambled on behind him, encouraged by the undulating wave of girls that did nothing but squeal a little louder with each passing official-ish looking car.

“There are some, they fund our sites remember? They’re just not coming to the events because they feel judged man. Toxic masculinity and all, y’know?” It wasn’t really an original thought but rather one that he’d seen echoed around on his site a couple times, lurking in the corner of the forums and such. “I’ve had to step in a couple of times on my site even, when the female fans have gotten too clingy and all over Junmyeon.” He admitted, face souring a little as he recalled the bitter responses that he’d gotten in the moments before they realised that he was indeed the site runner and they wouldn’t have pictures of their precious oppa™ were it not for him. Call him cynical but while he ran a fansite he still disliked the greed that some of his patrons displayed when he wasn’t quick enough in putting up the HDs or any other variety of perceived faults on his part.

Spoiler: Sehun did this for the fun and appreciation of Junmyeon with the money a nice aside. Besides, sometimes he just really needed a nap after music shows or concerts.

Jongdae’s fist hit his side in a teasing punch that Sehun would usually let pass but it knocked his camera and he could have sworn his life flashed before his eyes as the lens stalk hit the pole he was standing beside. A death glare blinked through the space that spanned between he and Jongdae, reminding the man that Sehun would not hesitate to sabotage any and every shot he was planning to capture today. “Wanting Junmyeon…like that? I think it’s fine for both genders. I mean I’m personally not y’know.” The statement as a whole was fine and Sehun did indeed agree with it, hell he’d be a little hypocritical to be saying that people shouldn’t find others of the same sex hot (sue him, Junmyeon was sexy when he wanted to be). What he took issue with was the final implication that Jongdae didn’t swing that way, a thing they both knew to be a lie.

A teeny tiny scoff defied Sehun’s attempt to keep quiet and simply reward his friend with a smirk. Figuring that all of his chances of maintaining the tsundere look he usually cultivated in order to avoid talking to weird people, his surprised formed into words. “Are you trying to tell me that you and Chanyeol aren’t…?” he trailed off and left it to the raise of his right eyebrow to communicate his point.

Realization did eventually dawn across Jongdae’s face but god, it was a long time coming and Sehun had been about to give up that entire line of conversation; the comprehending ‘OhhhHH’ even came just as he’d opened his mouth to pursue another line of question. While it was tempting to press on with what he was going to say, seeing Jongdae squirm with the question provided reasonable entertainment. Sehun resigned himself to leaning agains the fence for at least another hour and after a quick towards the front of the line, turned his attention to Jongdae.

Slowly though, rather than being polite and allowing him to enjoy the steady blossom of a blush on his friend’s face, the fangirls around him began a roar that he knew only came out when their idol was arriving. Bitter as he was, Sehun wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to get some good shots; quickly he grabbed the camera, hoping quietly that the lens wouldn’t distort Junmyeon horribly, especially considering how close they were. It’d be a lie to say that a lump didn’t catch in his throat as the older man walked by, all sashaying hips and confidence that could only be founded on thousands of people hanging on your every word. If it was anyone else, Sehun would have cracked out a sarcastic reply to the ethereal beauty that was passing in front of him. In reality, all he could do was stare.

In fact he was staring so hard that Sehun actually forgot to bring the camera to his eye, forgot to press down the ‘capture’ button to activate fast shutter mode and capture every single thing the singer did. Were there a moment for one to admit that they weren’t entirely straight, this would have been Sehun’s. Unfortunately he'd confronted that fact the moment he’d woken up after Junmyeon’s latest album release with sheets slightly stickier than he would have liked. Letting a curse hit the wind Sehun did eventually bring the camera up to his face, shuttering a few shots, consoling himself with the fact that other fansite’s arms would be weak now and he might capture some rare photos.

God had apparently decided that photos weren’t what Sehun was meant to catch that morning, instead sending a strong wind and an over-enthusiastic fan slamming into his side. It wasn’t the falling that Sehun minded so much as the embarrassment; he fell over with precious things in his arms all the time so this was hardly a new development. What was new, was the falling over in front of him, Kim Junmyeon. A sharp clatter broke through the haughty tension that were the girls clamouring to get the singer’s attention, only turning as the sound of a lens shattering sliced the airwaves in two, demanding attention for both Oh Sehun and his broken goods.

Ever so slowly, Sehun could feel his world collapsing around him, crashing and slamming against his head with a low chuckle that sprinkled the air and left the girls around him swooning. Kim Junmyeon was laughing at him, and while he’d always tried to seperate business from fun, it hurt to feel those beautiful eyes watching him and laughing. Lifting his head felt like the opposite of what he wanted to do, but he knew that if he was going to maintain any sort pretences he’d need to look up eventually. Silence had settled eventually and Sehun’s shoulders didn’t feel like they were being watched so intensely so he scrambled up, grabbing his camera and glancing quickly at his shattered lens before deciding against risking the cuts.

Everything would have been fine really, if only he hadn’t been met with the worried eyes of a certain hallyu star. Specifically speaking, Kim Junmyeon. “I didn’t realise that you broke your lens! I thought you’d just stumbled a little and my manager said something funny and I—god I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have laughed but it was…pretty funny….” he rattled off the apology and Sehun would have passed it off as a set piece he was meant to say were it not for the fact that this was Junmyeon. Shuffling on the spot, his feet felt almost like they were stuck, save for a bit of restricted movement; all amounting to him not actually being able to run away like he wanted to. “Are you okay? You’re not cut are you?” Junmyeon continued on, his hands stretching out to touch Sehun’s shoulders before being pushed down by one of the security guards.

A small crowd had gathered around them by this time, both curious as to what the worry was and clamouring for even a look at their idol — either way it amounted in Sehun not really being able to process what was going on. “I-I don’t think I am.” he tried to focus in on the second question, not really bothering to respond to the apology, but making a note of it in his head. “It’s winter so I don’t have much skin exposed,” he offered, hoping that he was making sense and not spouting reasonings that didn’t follow any sort of shared logic. Relief did eventually flood his system as Junmyeon nodded, letting out a sound of agreement before he looked quickly around and clapped a hand on to his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re not too badly hurt. I would stay longer but my manager is giving me that look so if I don’t hurry up he’s gonna yell at me.” Sehun did actually know the look that Junmyeon was referring to, he’d caught it in a couple of his shots, especially the ones where the singer was doing something that he wasn’t strictly meant to be doing. Nodding in understanding he stood back, ruffling his hair and ducking his head in apology towards the manager; god knows how loud he could yell at Jongdae if he was late for an event — he could only imagine that would be amplified were he managing an idol.

He barely had time to let an apology catch on the wind before Junmyeon was hustled into the small complex and he was swamped with fangirls that were suddenly more interested in him than the man they’d come here to see. The predictable questions swarmed in the air, ‘Do you know him?’ ‘Did you save a country in your past life?’ and then some more odd ones, of which his favourite was: ‘How soft were his hands?!’ and the follow up question, ‘WHAT MOISTURISER DO YOU THINK HE USES?!’. Sehun considered actually answering the questions before he felt the cool roll of liquid down his knee, and he was fairly sure he hadn’t urinated so all in all it was likely that it was blood. Jongdae’s subsequent gasp of surprise and fairly clichéd point to his knee, only really confirmed the fact, reminding Sehun of the fact that he had been wearing jeans that had holes at the knee. That explained it.

Wincing as the cut grazed against the rough material that was his jeans, Sehun came to the realisation that he definitely didn’t have any first aid things on his person at all. His lack of any tangible supplies did however, become a relatively minuscule issue once he considered his camera. Along with no first aid supplies, Sehun hadn’t brought any back up extension lenses and there was no time for him to go home and collect a lens that couldn’t even be guaranteed to do what he wanted. “Fuck, shit.” He grumbled, kicking his foot against the gravel, immediately to regret his decision once his uncovered graze once again brushed with his jeans.

“Children.” Jongdae hissed out, a warning of a reprimand that wouldn’t dare deal out — especially considering the amount of dirt Sehun had on him. Chanyeol, older than them he was, still wasn’t ready to hear some of the things that came out of Jongdae’s mouth about him.

Blood well and truly smudged along the inside of his pants, Sehun didn’t really have anything he couldn’t complain about. Plans ruined and body aching from the shock (and irritation); he was stuck in line for something that now, seemed rather redundant to attend. “Children,” Sehun started, mocking the tone that Jongdae had adopted, as if feigning he wasn’t one of the more kinky people Sehun had encountered, “didn’t just have their one and a half thousand dollar camera lens ruined, so frankly — I don’t give a shit about their pretty little ears right now.” Sehun fluttered his lashes a couple of times, “Jongdae.” He could tell that his friend thought of snapping out a reply but with the sickly sweet honey that dripped from his name he rethought and nodded instead, gesturing for Sehun to continue on as he was.

Sehun could tell that Jongdae was hesitant to touch him before his fingers even brushed against his shoulders, the sensation muffled by the layers that came with a Seoul winter. “M-Maybe…” Jongdae’s words fell silent with the glaring gaze he was offered as Sehun’s reply. “Maybe…” he was brave, Sehun would give him that; though considering his current mood, there seemed to be a thin line between ‘brave’ and ‘stupid’. “Maybe, you could just enjoy the show? I’ll try and take as many photos as I can so you can have some so it doesn’t look like you totally flaked. I know how fangirls can be.” Third time seemed to be the charm for Jongdae and Sehun had to admit that he couldn’t see that much wrong with his reasoning.

Charity wasn’t something that Oh Sehun usually accepted but right now he wasn’t really in a position to actually say no. He would have strips torn off him if he didn’t have any photos, even if it wasn’t his comeback stage, that had only been a couple of days ago so people were still hungry for photos of him that weren’t just the corporate provided ones. Aware of the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to lord his knowledge of the things Jongdae had said about Chanyeol over his head for at least a month, Sehun ceded that he needed the help with a meek nod.

A smirk that told him Jongdae knew exactly what he’d just negotiated flickered across his friend’s face, and a while he was irritated at having given up some bargaining power; Sehun felt relaxed.

It had been exactly a year and nine months since the last time Sehun’s vision of Kim Junmyeon hadn’t been fractured by the lens of a camera, or any other type of screen (not counting their encounter outside the filming studios). He’d actually forgotten what it felt like to be a regular fan at one of these things, getting numbered and not having to be verified as a ‘proper’ fansite. There were girls (and probably boys) that were most likely attending one of these showings for the first and possibly last time and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little guilty for not appreciating his opportunities properly.

While his duty as a fansite master was usually that of sitting up in the seats, surrounded by the tripods and other gear that helped those who couldn’t get their arms above the sea of heads (Jongdae), this time Sehun was nestled snug against the stage and other fellow fans. A pang of guilt did resound in his heart as he glanced back to catch the eye of Jongdae and the man was alone in a sea of female fansite masters. He knew that the solidarity of having Sehun with him was what had encouraged Jongdae to really flourish in the community so leaving him alone did make him feel…not worried…actually, he was more proud than anything else. This time Jongdae was the one that had his back.

Not having his camera resting heavily in his fingers did feel odd to Sehun, and a few times during the warm up he did freak out momentarily before remembering. Today was for Junmyeon, well, it always was, but he meant that it was for him purely; no photos or anything, all of Sehun’s attention would be on him.

Beats kicked up in the air around them, bouncing off each wall, fine acoustics channeling the sounds perfectly as Junmyeon stepped out on to the stage, sweater tucking in close to his waist and straight jeans inciting every distinctly NON-straight thought Sehun thought he could have. In those few breaths Sehun had as Junmyeon brought the microphone to his lips, he gulped down as much air as possible, knowing he was about to have every stolen gasp and sigh knocked out of him. Silence save for the ebb and flow of the piano flooded the studio, every eye on Kim Junmyeon, all of them waiting for the exact same thing as Sehun.

The first strains that perhaps didn’t even need a microphone to be heard cut the breaths each individual was holding, resulting in a collective sigh as Junmyeon pulled each audience member into their own private reverie. Sehun’s attention was unblinkingly draw the perfect formation of each word, Junmyeon’s lips almost acting independently of all laws of beauty to create a sound that rivalled the beauty of one’s name being called out by their lover.

Perhaps that was what this was for Sehun, a reminder of just how much he loved and appreciated the man who was right there, so close and yet so far. He found himself mouthing the words by reflex, eyes glued to the man in front of him, losing himself in the music just the same as the other fans. In that moment, just as Sehun was about to slip his eyes closed, to fully lose himself to the sound and the beat, their eyes met and a smile cracked across Junmyeon’s lips. Doing something that even the declaration of World War Three would be pressed to do, his smile snapped Sehun out of it, and his feet, where they’d been moving freely, he tripped, falling into someone’s elbow. To say it was one of the less enticing things he’d done in quite sometime would be an understatement.

Pain kicked in before the embarrassment, though it was hotly followed by a burning on his cheeks that definitely didn’t belong to the slap of skin against skin. His nose and eye hurt too much for him to notice that the music had fallen quiet and there were scattered gasps in the crowd. Right now Sehun’s main focus was making sure he hadn’t actually broken his nose — his supplementary career as a small time model didn’t really need to be jeopardised, especially considering his looming camera costs. “Are you okay?” The voice was amplified and yet close by, and there was feedback of a microphone being set down on the ground. Sehun didn’t piece together evidence until hands hooked under his shoulders and pulled him up to a standing position once again. “Do I need to call an ambulance?” The question was punctuated by the soft trickle of cool blood down and over Sehun’s lips.

By now the whispers had amplified and were periodically cut through by Jongdae’s ‘Sehun-ah!’s and his desperately scrambling to get all their gear packed up while also trying to wade down to his friend’s side. Those broad hands were still fixed on his shoulder and as the blackness of the pain crept back from the edges of his eyes, Sehun finally had the time to catch a glimpse of the man by his side.

Kim Junmyeon stared back at him. Eyes warm and compassionate, every thought that was racing through Sehun’s head slowed and once again the universe narrowed, whispers and gasps falling away as their eyes met. “You were singing beautifully.” He blurted out, eyes wide and shocked, not entirely sure what he was meant to say, “Sorry for interrupting.” An attempt to bow forwards was blocked by those fateful hands, holding his shoulders back and as an unsurprisingly dazzling smile blossomed across his face.

“You’re the one who got hurt at my concert and you’re apologising?” While Sehun knew it was a rhetorical question, he could tell as such from the mirth that tinged each word, he still felt compelled open his mouth and offer an explanation. Junmyeon’s finger came down to silence him, pressing against his semi-parted lips, uncalloused, making Sehun think of that moisturiser question from earlier. “Now I’m gonna ask again, do I need to call an ambulance?” Sehun had hoped he’d avoided the question by blurting out his stupid response but it hadn’t saved him, instead leaving him to laugh awkwardly and try and brush the question off.

Shuffling a little away from Junmyeon so he could tip his head forwards, hoping to prevent the flow of blood to the back of his throat, it was pretty obvious that yes, Sehun needed to go and see someone. “Maybe, but please don’t worry about me, my friend…” he trailed off as Jongdae slide into the situation, tiny hand resting on the small of his back and most likely looking positively ridiculous with all their camera gear strapped to his back. “…he can call for me.”

A hiss of dissent from Jongdae has Sehun looking up, shooting him a look to rival Kyungsoo’s whenever Baek pretended he didn’t have the remote on their movie nights. “Sehun-ah, I wouldn’t say I can…” HIs brow pulled up at Sehun surveyed his friend’s face, daring him to be joking in a time like this. Unfortunately he wasn’t and Jongdae’s face took on an expression of apology he’d not seen since the time Chanyeol had forgotten to wake him up while he was tanning. “I left my phone at home today, things were kind of rushed and I — I forgot.” Fuck. Junmyeon was going to come in all chivalrous, like he seemed to be making a habit of, and Sehun was literally going to be the bleeding idiot.

Sehun ducked his head once again, knowing he could use the excuse of First Aid should he need it, and allowed his gaze to bore holes into the ground, teeth set on edge and shoulders tight. “I’ve got my phone on me. Give me a second to call the ambulance and I’ll let my manager know that I won’t be able to make the rest of the set. This isn’t a major special or anything.” Why Junmyeon was cancelling the show Sehun didn’t really know, nor did he really care, at least if the ambulance was here he’d be able escape the speculative eye of the public and the endearing gaze of Junmyeon.

It was the latter he was more concerned with — like he needed any other excuses to dig himself further into an affection that had no hopes of being reciprocated.

Soon there was only one pair of hands rubbing at his back and shoulders, and they were far too small to below to the singer. “Hyung, why is Junmyeon cancelling his show?” he managed to groan out, vision still slightly blurred at the edges, even fraying into blackness if he tried to focus too hard.

“He said something about going to the hospital with you Sehun, didn’t you hear?” Jongdae’s voice was uncharacteristically serious and he could tell that there was something seriously wrong. His friend nearly never took things seriously unless one of his friends had just gotten hurt, and considering the very real possibility that this had just happened Sehun wasn’t feeling totally inspired.

They bustled out of the main area quickly, and the faint hush that had settled over the crowd surprised Sehun as he heard Junmyeon’s footsteps following them out to meet the paramedics.

Exactly how cliché was it that his last thought before the pain got to him was one about Junmyeon? Granted, it was about his moisturiser but he was pretty sure it still counted.

The ambulance ride was excruciating, a mix of Sehun half passed out, and then brushing off the concerned hands of Junmyeon.

Waiting in hospital was worse, Jongdae fidgeting at his side, worrying about the fact that he’d not been able to text Chanyeol why he was late for their lunch date. Sehun had told him to stop being so whiney, Chanyeol was used enough to them being late for things, being a fansite meant you had a pretty hectic schedule. Being whatever he was to Jongdae, Chanyeol should have known that things had the ability to change on the fly and wouldn’t be too worried about what was going on — though he’d probably be surprised when they came back and Sehun had a broken nose.

Strangely enough though, the person that made the trip the worse wasn’t Jongdae, it was the worried mess at his left side, a certain Kim Junmyeon. “God, I’m so sorry, my fans really need to learn about to calm down sometimes…” Sehun has huffed out an appreciative smile at the apology the first couple of times but by the hundredth utterance of the phrase, it had become a little tired. He appreciated the concern over his health but it just made the blush on his cheeks worse and he found himself regretting agreeing to letting Junmyeon come with them.

They’d already sat through the initial check up, the doctors hadn’t sounded too upset and after some sore poking at Sehun’s nose he was sent back into the waiting room. His nose had pretty obviously been broken when he’d looked into the window of the ambulance, coming in and out of consciousness with what had to be a strong mix of anaesthetic and embarrassment. So really, Sehun was more waiting for whatever prescription the doctors gave him, right before his chance to run the fuck out of here and get the hell away from Junmyeon.

“Are you Oh Sehun?” The same doctor from before stood in the door way, eyes soft as they watched Junmyeon worriedly rubbing Sehun’s back, soothing intentions tainted with the thrum of worry running through his finger tips. Taking on a role that Sehun hadn’t really delegated to him, Junmyeon shot up and out of his seat with an enthusiasm that had a faint smile quirking the edges of Sehun’s lips in spite of the pain rolling from the centre of his face. The poor doctor jumped back a little at the sudden movement, but only before a warm smile settled on his face, eyes drawn back to the habit of bedside manner, poised to assuage the fears of anyone and anything. “Are you his partner?”

Fuck.

Junmyeon’s voice stuttered in the air Sehun almost felt sorry for him as the scrambled, “No, actually, I’m just a friend.” The breath he’d been about to take caught in Shun’s throat as he heard the last word, friend, he supposed they were. One didn’t usually escort strangers to the hospital ward, but Sehun’d just assumed this was some sort of grand gesture of fan service, assumed that this was another one of those times Junmyeon went above and beyond for his fans. The word ‘friend’ hadn’t even occurred to him.

“I’ll let my co-worker know, he was worrying about the famous Kim Junmyeon having a boyfriend. He was rather put out.” Jongdae, worried as he was, choked out a laugh from where he’d sat silent for the last twenty minutes. Sehun followed quickly, biting his lip to hold back a full-blown laugh but when he looked up and saw the scandalised look on Junmyeon’s face he couldn’t manage it anymore and he doubled over, wincing when his hand pressed to his tender cheek.

A skidding sound came to Sehun’s ears at Junmyeon turned between the doctor and Sehun then back again. “You knew who I am?” he asked, voice harried and rising in pitch with every word.

A faint chuckle once again. “Of course, you’re the prize of our country’s entertainment industry, why wouldn’t I recognise you?” When he looked up again, smile still pressed on his face, Sehun was met with the gaping mouth of Junmyeon.

“Junmyeon, it was stupid of you to think that you wouldn’t be recognised, now come on. Jongdae’s silently begging to be let go and I think the forecast says it’s going to start raining soon.” His excuse was feeble, in truth it was pretty funny to watch Junmyeon squirm as he realised his plans had been fucked up but as funny as it was, Jongdae was getting pretty annoying and Sehun wanted to rest up at home. Breaking his nose was going to put him out of work for at least a couple of weeks, and he wanted to get some sleep in before the real implications of financial loss set in. Pouting, Junmyeon conceded the point, bustling over to Sehun’s side as he stood up, hand firm on his shoulder. “Pick up your prescription at the nurses’ desk and just follow the signs to get to the exit. There’s a rolling cab service so you should be able to get a ride if you don’t live close by.” Sehun did live close by actually, it wouldn’t be too much trouble to walk home alone and hopefully he’d be able to convince Junmyeon to leave him at the door.

“Sehun?”

“Jongdae.”

“Chanyeol is probably wor-“

“Go Jongdae, I’m okay to walk home.”

“Thanks.”

A faint chuckle bubbled from Sehun’s chest and the quirk of his eyebrows hurt just a little as he watched his friend skid around the corner, not wanting to disappoint his beau (were they even dating? Sehun wasn’t sure.). “Are you sure that you’ll be able to walk home? I can get us a cab.” In watching his friend run away Sehun had forgotten there was someone waiting for him at his side, arm slung over his should in a faux attempt at supporting him.

Casting a quick glance over at Junmyeon he let out a more hearty effort at laughter once he noticed he was still in his stage outfit, having been too preoccupied with his injury before to have seen. “I’ll be fine. You can catch a cab back to wherever you need to be hyung,” Sehun said the familiar term before he’d even realised it and felt his neck colour in embarrassment, knowing his body his ears were probably red too.

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, dongaeng,” His toes curled a little at the way Junmyeon didn’t draw any further attention to the slip in his language, and went even further to return it. It was cute. “I’ll walk you home, I mean, it’s the least I can do.” They were still walking a this point and it was with a vague register in his mind that Sehun realised they were by the nurses’ desk.

He raised his hand as a sign to pause the conversation and hurried to the desk, saying his name before the nurses handed him a stack of paper prescriptions and wished him a speedy recovery. Turning back to Junmyeon, watching him for a moment before returning to his side, Sehun huffed out a quick, “Believe me, I think you’ve gone well beyond what the least was, hyung, and I appreciate it.” Junmyeon shook his head but Sehun knew what he was saying was true. They both did.

They walked slow, even though neither of them had any injuries to their feet, uncrushed as they traipsed down the stairs and ducked into the hospital gift shop. Sehun had been right about the rain and had spotted the clouds in the sky through the porthole like windows, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he allowed a hallyu star to get wet, and consequently, sick, on his watch.

Silence felt good though, it was nothing as he paid for the umbrella, nor as they made their way away from the hospital and onto the main, then side roads, that would eventually take Sehun home. It was nice, to just be with Junmyeon and Sehun felt himself enjoying the occasional bump of their hands a little too much. He was wandering into dangerous territory and by the third time it’d happened he decided it was much better to simply focus on where he was walking rather than indulging his feelings further.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever rushed one of my fans to the hospital before. Even rarer for me to walk them home.” Junmyeon’s words pulled Sehun from his focus on the footpath, taking the cracks and watching them to make sure he didn’t trip and embarrass himself more than strictly necessary.

He huffed an awkward laugh, hand coming up to rub the red on his neck, “About that…” he started up, wanting to give an excuse, perhaps even insist that he’d not asked for him to come with him to the hospital. Junmyeon cut him off like he had earlier, except it was too fingers this time, two fingers that came to rest on Sehun’s plush lips, heating his cheeks as he fell into silence.

“It wasn’t a problem. I’m glad you’re okay, well… semi-okay.”Junmyeon’s eyes watched him as the rain dotted the walkway around them, a cheap hospital gift-store umbrella the only thing shielding them from the rain. Sehun would have responded but those fingers were still pressed to his lips, holding them closed, and yeah, okay, he was frozen still by how warm they felt against his skin.

“I should probably get going. Today technically isn’t one of my days off and my manager always likes to make sure that I squeeze in some practice.” It was an excuse that Sehun knew he’d have to hear eventually, the man standing in front of him wasn’t just anyone, he was Kim Junmyeon. A hallyu star, a rising light for the people of Korea on an international stage, and he was here, standing under an umbrella Oh Sehun was holding for him. Junmyeon’s fingers fell away from his face.

He swallowed back any excuses daring to keep Junmyeon, hoping that he could convince himself that it was okay that Junmyeon would get back in his car, and that this day needed to come to an end. “You should.” was all he managed to get out, voice husky with what he convinced himself was an oncoming cold, not ready to really accept the emotion he knew was filling his eyes. “I don’t want your manage to get upset with you. I’m not worth it.” His attempt to joke, to lighten the atmosphere he felt pressing down on him, crushing him with Junmyeon’s smile dazzling behind his eyes, fell on deaf ears.

Instead of the soft smile, the one that Junmyeon always brought out for his interviews when they asked about ideal types, Sehun was met with furrowed brows. A purse of the lips that was all too alike the expression Junmyeon had worn as he’d bundled Sehun up and took him backstage earlier today dusted his face, the idol looking up at him with concern. “Well considering how terrifying he is, I wouldn’t say anyone is but, I’d say…” Junmyeon trailed off, eyes drifting to the ground as Sehun guessed he looked for his words. “…I’d say,” Sehun licked his lips, “that, that I’d feel less bitter about being yelled at if it meant I got to spend a bit more time with you.” He finished his sentence with a curt nod, eyes turned to crescents and hands well and truly wrapped around Sehun’s heart.

Pulling his bottom lip through his teeth, rain hitting his shoulders as Sehun tipped the umbrella further forward to shield Junmyeon, “I’m touched.” The words were simple, spoken with a sentimentality that Jongdae would tease him about for days if he heard them. He didn’t though, the man in front of him did.

The hand traced his jawline for a brief moment, mapping out the gentle curve to where it tapered into his chin, even there it slowed for a moment, thumb coming up and brushing against his bottom lip. Softly, oh so softly, the thumb skirted across the full expanse of his lips, tracing the outline before the hand fell away, once again cupping his jaw, pulling him ever so gently forwards.

Eyes having drifted shut Sehun didn’t know what was going to happen until it did, until he felt the insistent press of those lips, the ones he’d dreamt of touching, those that he’d wished to feel night after night.

Oh Sehun was the one that Kim Junmyeon kissed.

Kim Junmyeon was the one Oh Sehun kissed back.

AN//

i'm setting up commissions because i am a poor university student and i want to not be poor! commision me here

#seho #sesu #exo #exo fic #fic #fanfic

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faces-in-unexpected-places · 4 years

Text

Do You Have the Time? Episode 023: The Deal

Synopsis: Leopold takes a totally non self-destructive break from his stress. Jeremy and Madison demonstrate a vastly different relationship in their recent past.

[April 24th, 2018, 18:13]

Leopold heaved himself up onto the lab bench and sat right next to the melted surface that Sophia pointed out. The lab was in total and complete disarray. He’d collected many of the large pieces of glass, but the floor was still sparkling with fine shards and glass dust. There were also many jagged pieces still sticking out of the window frame as well. Combined with Sophia’s news, his motivation to keep up a good appearance for Jeremy and Leslie was quickly plummeting. He considered waking IO out of its slumber for help with the cleaning but putting on a face even for a robot felt like a massive undertaking. If he told the others that the glass was taking longer than expected, Leslie would just volunteer herself and Jeremy to help it go faster. And then he would have to tell them what happened while they were gone. If he didn’t, they would notice that something was wrong.

At least Leslie would.

He wiggled his phone out of his pocket and reached out to them for an update.

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_START_18:18]

LL: hey there you 2, how’s the search going :)

JB: Good. Leslie’s driving and we’re on our way back. JB: We took the long way.

LL: ok no problem

JB: Leslie is yelling at me to tell you that it was an accident. JB: She didn’t know where the Home Depot was.

LL: but we were just there…?

LG: I was listening to ur sotyr abt Woodstock that isn’t fair!!

LL: i thought she was the one driving?

LG: red light

LL: where r u guys? LL: hello

JB: Aaand now, it’s a green light. JB: The GPS says we’re about 20 minutes away. JB: We actually just passed Leslie’s house a few minutes ago.

LL: i finished the cleaning a little bit ago LL: y don’t u 2 just head home tonite and bring the supplies tomorrow?

JB: Are you sure? It’s only 20 mins.

LL: u guys r already in ur neighborhoods LL: and u 2 have been staying late and coming in early to work alot lately LL: u deserve a break :)

JB: She wants to know what time we’re coming in tomorrow.

LL: just be here at 9am lie everyone else LL: like* everyone else LL: hello?

JB: Sorry, just rerouting. Rush hour.

LL: no worries!

JB: Okay, Leslie’s going to take me back to my house and head home, then. JB: She’s keeping the supplies in her car overnight and will bring them tomorrow morning.

LL: ok sounds good LL: see u guys then! LL: great job today !

JB: Thanks. You too. JB: Leslie says thank you, too. JB: Sorry, she says, “Thank you!! <3”

LL: lol LL: that sounds like her

JB: Have a good night, Leopold. See you soon.

LL: see u !

[LEOPOLD_LESLIE_JEREMY_CONVERSATION_END_18:30]

Leopold grinned faintly but it was quickly washed away with exhaustion. His face was heavy and expressionless. Tired. He let himself fall off the workbench and landed on his feet. The promise of solitude filled him with a vague relief. He trudged over to the entrance to the lab and locked the doors. Many of the labs nearby had turned their lights off and were left empty for the night. He lugged himself back across the lab and carefully stepped through the sheet of glass dust on the floor of his office until he reached his desk. The lowest side-drawer contained a mess of papers and wires and junk that he should probably have gotten rid of long ago.

All the way in the back was a plastic bag and some flimsy, palm-sized pieces of paper. A small bag next to it contained a pile of grassy-looking balls. He retrieved the two bags, sat down, and dumped a dirty-green colored bud onto the paper. In his top side-drawer, he pulled out a mortar and pestle. When he ordered materials for his lab decades ago, he “accidentally” ordered an extra mortar and pestle. He ground the bud in the bowl with the pestle, sprinkled the green dust into the paper, rolled it tight, licked it together and lit it up with his handy zippo. With his feet up on the desk he took a long puff of his favorite medication and stretched his limbs out.

If he was going to be there for a while, he might as well get comfortable, too.

After today, he needed a break.

[May 13th, 2016, 1:57]

Madison sat anxiously on the couch of a dark living room, scanning the quiet, suburban neighborhood through the window for cars. She checked her phone again. A message from Jeremy ten minutes ago. It said he’d be here in five minutes. She glanced to the clock for the 3rd time. She wasn’t sure what she expected to be different, as if he would somehow arrive faster. A car slowly emerged from behind the next-door neighbor’s hedges and parked on the street in front of the house. She waited for a few seconds, then the car flashed its headlights three times. It was him! She leapt off the couch, stuffed her bare feet into her shoes and silently slipped through the front door, closing it gently behind her. She jogged down the driveway to meet him on the sidewalk.

“You made it,” she said.

“I did. How’s the situation in there?”

“They’re asleep. Went to bed around eleven or midnight.”

“Okay. We should be fine, then. Thanks for doing this,” he said.

“Sure. I wouldn’t deal with them if I didn’t have to, either.”

He shut his car door as quietly as he could and followed Madison up the driveway. He carried a small, flattened cardboard box under his arm. They entered and both took their shoes off out of habit. He followed behind her through the living room and down the hallway. They tiptoed past their parents’ bedroom and stopped at Jeremy’s old room, across the hall from Madison’s. She led him inside, shut the door and used the light from her phone to see. Jeremy observed and did the same.

“So, what are you looking for?” she asked.

“I want my keyboard and all the accessories that go with it, wax warmer and the wax cubes, and some old notes I took for some of my classes. Those can go in the box. I also want to take my bedspread and my old bookshelf. Those, I can fit in the backseat.”

“Really, the keyboard? Even after mom cracked down on your knuckles every practice session? I haven’t heard you play in forever.”

“I haven’t, really. But I can still play, and it is still mine, so I’d like to take it back.”

“Fair enough. Okay, we can do that.”

Aside from periodically bumping into each other in the dark, the plan worked out without a hitch. First, the box was taken to the car. Then the bedspread, and lastly the bookshelf. They had to be extremely careful to not bump the bookshelf into any walls or fixtures. Luckily, they had the carpeted floors on their side, so setting it down was no problem. Walking without shoes on carpet was essentially silent, as well. After waddling out to his car with the shelf, they set it down on the tree lawn to take a breather.

“You sure this is okay?” Jeremy asked.

“A little late to be asking that question, dontcha think, Jay?” she laughed through her breath.

“Will you be okay tomorrow?” he rephrased.

“I think so. Probably. Mom still goes in your room all the time, but I’ll just put one of your old bedspreads on the mattress. If she notices, I’ll just tell her that I’m washing the bedspread you took, or something.”

“What if she asks about it later?”

“I dunno. Guess I’ll figure that out later. At least I’ll buy some time to keep her off my back in the meantime. Besides, that’s only if she notices. No offense Jay, but all the comforters you’ve ever had have had stripes. They all kinda look the same.”

He chuckled, sheepishly.

“Well, just be careful.”

“I always am,” she shrugged, “So, what’s your plan now? Graduating college and everything?” she asked and took a seat on top of his trunk, “You moving far away from here? I can’t imagine the two-hour drive right now is enough distance.”

Jeremy hopped up to sit next to her. They both laid back and looked at the few stars still visible in the suburban light pollution.

“I actually came to talk to you about that,” he said.

“Hmm. So, out with it, then. Where you headed?”

“Nowhere,” he replied.

“Oh, come on, you’ve gotta have somewhere to go.”

“No, Maddie. I’m staying in Curiesville.”

“What? Why?” she sat up and cross-examined, “Don’t you want to get the hell out of Crazy Town?”

“Of course, I do. But I got accepted into a PhD program at CVU in the fall. So, I’m staying there for a while longer.”

“Wait, you’re going back to school? What the hell, man, why?”

“Most jobs I can get are entry level right now, and advancement will take a while. And I’ve always wanted to do research,” he shrugged, “A PhD is a surefire way to really contribute to the body of science. To make some real advancements. To make something new and to make the world better, you know?”

“I guess, man. If it makes you happy, at least.”

“You’re almost done with high-school, right? Two years left?”

“If half-way is almost done in your mind, then yeah, sure,” she scoffed.

“How’s it going so far?” he asked, “I know we haven’t had much time to talk about it since you started.”

“Honestly, I bitch and complain about a lot of stuff, including school, but it’s actually not so bad. I’m not in any of those fancy-pantsy AP science classes like you were, but they’re still interesting. I’ve written a few articles for the school newspaper, actually,” she smiled, “My journalism teacher runs the newspaper and seems to like having me on the team. It’s a nice way to forget about mom and dad at least.”

“That’s great. Have you thought about what you want to do afterwards?” he asked.

Madison laughed and rolled her eyes.

“You sound like everyone else, now. ‘What are you doing with your life, Maddie?’ ‘Apply to colleges early, Maddie!’ ‘Don’t vape in the girl’s bathroom, Maddie!’” she mocked.

“Wait, what?”

“To be honest, I just planned on making a break for it when I turn eighteen.”

“Where to?”

“Dunno, don’t care. Across the country maybe. They have Targets and Walmarts in every state, figured I’d just work at one of those,” she said flippantly.

“You think you’d be happy with that?” Jeremy interviewed.

“Beats wasting away at forty, living in mom’s spare room, listening her talk about what a disappointment I am.”

“You don’t want to go to college?”

“Pfff, fat chance. Nowhere to live, no colleges in mind, and no money to pay for it.”

“There’s always financial aid. Loans to take out. Scholarships, all kinds of stuff. You just have to know where to look,” Jeremy persisted.

“Yeah, maybe you could get scholarships, genius. Do I look like someone who could do that?”

“Maddie, if you have a pulse, you can get scholarships. I applied for one that awarded me $500 for having a GPA above 3.0 and explaining why I thought I deserved the scholarship. It really can be that easy.”

“I guess so. That’s still just one piece of a way bigger puzzle, though.”

“Alright, I’ll just get to the point,” Jeremy sighed and sat up, “I get a yearly stipend of $30,000 to live off while I get my PhD. With some careful searching, that can cover basically all our living expenses. Both of us. And it could leave us with a little extra left over if we need it. We can get you financial aid and loans to pay for your classes,” he argued.

Madison turned to look at him directly. She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow, ruminating with her internal conflicts.

“Whoa, whoa, man. You’re… not serious, are you?” she asked.

“If I was joking, you would be laughing, Maddie,”

She furrowed her brow and scoffed.

“Shut up,” Jeremy scoffed back, “Yes, I’m serious. So, what’s your answer?”

“…It sounds nice, honestly, Jeremy, but… I couldn’t put you out like that. You’re… I mean, God, I hate that I’m going to say this, but you’re brilliant! Crazy smart and hard-working, and shit just comes to you, but it doesn’t work like that for me. I’m not anything special. I don’t even know what I would study…”

“You’ve got time to figure it out. Just think about it. Or you could work at Target in Curiesville with a familiar face around and build up some savings. Either way… you don’t have to fend for yourself if you don’t want to.”

“…You’re really okay with that. Sharing a place and supporting the family fuck-up?”

“You’re not the family fuck-up, mom and dad are.”

She nodded and grimaced in agreement.

“Where would we live?” she probed.

“Probably an apartment. They’re usually cheaper. There’s all kinds of options that we can look at, especially when you get closer to eighteen and have been accepted to the university and/or gotten a job at the Target of your choosing.”

“…And you really think that I can do college?” she persisted in her skepticism.

“You don’t have to be perfect. All you have to do is try your best, study, and talk to your professors. Most of them really want you to succeed, too. And I’ll be there to help you along the way if you need it. Seeing as how I just went through four years of college; I could probably answer a lot of questions for you. You would just have to keep me updated on how things are going and ask for help when you need it. If you want to quit and get a job instead, that would be okay, too. Just don’t give up on your classes without withdrawing and dropping out of the next semester. Otherwise, you’ll just build debt from classes you didn’t plan on passing, and that will be harder for us to deal with.”

“Well… I guess it would be nice to know that I’ve got a place to go once I can leave…” she said to herself, “I’ll think about the college thing. But if you’re totally sure that you’re okay with finding a place together…”

“I am,” he said firmly.

Madison slowly let go of her prudent attitude and let her beaming smile shine through. She squealed under her breath and glommed onto Jeremy in excitement. He grinned and returned her hug.

“Oh, our place would look so great, too! Can you imagine? I can already see it, now! Nice couch, sweet-ass TV for movie and videogame nights with ice-cream, ugh! Why can’t I just fast-forward two years already.”

He pulled himself away to look at her.

“It’ll go by faster than you think. Especially since you have school to do until then. Make sure to keep your grades up and build some good relationships with your teachers now, so that you can have a good application to CVU, if you want it, alright? You’ll need them to write good letters of recommendation. Next time we talk, we can talk about the SAT, too.”

“Oh yeah, I actually convinced mom to get me one of those study books for it? You know the ones.”

Jeremy smirked.

“So, you were already thinking about college, then?” he analyzed.

“Wh—I—I mean—yeah, a little. Just out of curiosity. With everyone talking about it, and everything…”

“Okay. Sure. Good for you,” Jeremy teased.

“What!”

“Nothing!” he laughed, “Just impressed. Study hard. I’m sure you’ll do very well.”

“I’m not a nerd like you though, let’s make that clear,” she guarded, pushing her hands out, defensively.

“I didn’t say anything,” he grinned.

“Yeah, but you’re looking at me with that shit-eating grin!” she slapped him on the arm.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Alright, there’s no need for violence, here. Especially since nerds can’t fight, anyway.”

“Hey!” she protested.

“What? I just meant me,” he taunted, “…and those closely related,” he mumbled.

“Jay!”

“What?! Come on, let’s get this bookshelf in the car before the sun comes up, and mom puts us in a cage or something.”

Jeremy hopped off the trunk of his car and helped Madison down, as well. They muscled the bookshelf on its side into the back of his car and shut the doors. That was everything Jeremy had returned home for. They stood on the sidewalk, avoiding the goodbye that neither wanted to say.

“So… what are you doing, now?” she asked.

“Well, I’m taking this stuff back to my place and setting it up, I suppose. I’ve had a bit more free time to make the trip out here since I graduated yesterday. Everything been okay here with mom and dad?”

“Eh, well, not much has changed, if that’s what you mean. Mom is still the same dictator she-demon she’s always been, rambling about you and how you’re basically science’s second coming of Christ, but also she hates you for moving away?”

“Makes sense.”

“And dad is… well, he’s nice sometimes, I guess. But he’ll never stand up for either of us when mom is going on an abusive tirade. Honest to god, I think he should just divorce her for his sake, even if I have to stay. He’s not here against his will, I don’t know why he doesn’t just leave.”

“Who knows. Fear, maybe? One thing I learned about dad early on is that when fear kicks in, he’s basically useless. And so long as he’s married to mom, he’s scared all the time.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Madison agreed, “Well, I’m not too scared to leave, and when I do, you and I are living it up!”

“It’ll be great,” Jeremy smiled faintly.

They both trailed off, and their talk met its natural end. He knew it was time to go. Madison watched his smile fade away, and hers followed quickly behind.

“I guess this is it, huh?” she said, “You gonna be okay making the drive back?”

“I think so. I slept in today on purpose today.”

“Heh. You even plan on sleeping in…” she chuckled, “…When are we gonna see each other again, Jay?”

“…I’m not sure. The summer will be busy for me while I work to save up some extra money for us. Maybe sometime in the fall when I get the hang of my new program.”

“Okay,” she frowned, “It’s just that… I miss ya sometimes, ya know?”

Her eyes swelled up and a tear rolled down her cheek. She kept herself composed and quiet to avoid waking anyone up.

“I miss you a lot, too, Maddie. Why do you think I planned out the next two years of your life?” he joked.

She let out a half-laugh-half-gasp.

“I guess that’s true.”

“You have my number still, right?”

“I do.”

“Good. Maybe we can talk more that way, send each other pictures and whatnot,” he sniffed.

“Yeah, good idea. We should do that.”

They both suddenly clung to each other and held on as tight as they could, quietly sniveling into each other’s shoulders. They clinched each other until their arms were tired, since they knew they wouldn’t be seeing each other for six months. Jeremy quietly spoke into her shoulder.

“Thank you for helping me,” he said.

“Heh, aww, come on, it was nothin’,” she said, “Anything to see my state-issued nerd, again,” she smiled and wiped her eyes with her forearm, “Thanks for planning me a better life.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, Jay,” she whispered.

“Love you too, Maddie.”

They squeezed each other tight once more, and disbanded. Madison then gave Jeremy space to get into his car. She stood on the sidewalk with her arms folded in front of her, watching him get ready to leave. He pulled into the next driveway across the street, turned his car around, and flashed his headlights on his way out. Madison waved goodbye from the tree lawn until she watched him turn down the next road.

Then, her neighborhood was as quiet and still as it was before he came.

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