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moonlit-jeno · 4 years

Text

secrets | n.jm

genre/ warnings: vampire au, explicit sexual content, angst, way too much blood/ blood drinking, b i t i n g, character death (kind of), references to drugs, religion

word count: 9.5k

summary:

“I’m not scared.”

“No?” The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

notes: big thanks to @jaemallow for pushing the jaemin agenda and helping to keep me sane

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Mark grumbles at you, throwing an agitated glance over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and slow down even more just to spite him. “Dude, my dad’s going to kill me.” “He’ll be fine. Murder’s against the word of God, y’know.” You speed up despite your words, laughing at the way Mark glares at you.

There’s a crack in the sidewalk that he trips over and you laugh good naturedly. The street leading up to the church is in less than optimal shape, littered with cracks in the sidewalk and missing chunks of cement. Mark’s dad had tried to raise money to fix the street, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Mark starts walking slower all of a sudden and you grumble, glaring at him when he grabs your wrist to yank you backwards. You’re about to ask what his problem is when you see the three figures at the end of the road, moving closer towards you two.

“You’re kidding me.” They hear it, they must, with their superhuman senses. It only makes them smile brighter. You glance at Mark. “Wanna turn around?”

“Too late.” Mark breathes, staring straight ahead of him with wide eyes. You look away from him to find the three vampires standing directly in front of you, blocking your way.

A groan leaves you and you cross your arms, raising your eyebrows expectantly. “Can we help you?”

The ringleader of the bunch, Jaemin, smiles. “Well, since you’re offering, I suppose I am feeling a little hungry.”

The church is only one block down but if they don’t want to let you pass, you’re not going to get there. Mark shifts nervously next to you, shaking his head when you open your mouth to make a remark. That doesn’t stop you from saying it. “You realize that just because you’re from the 1200’s doesn’t mean that you have to talk like you’re from the 1200’s.”

“I resent that.” Jaemin frowns, clutching his hands to his chest likes he’s been stabbed. “I was born in 1706. It’s almost like you don’t care about me at all.”

“Is it? Must be because I don’t.” The other two vampires are silent, though one of them- Jeno- watches with amusement. The other one is unfamiliar and looks like he’s trying to figure out to pair you with white or red wine. You shudder and turn your attention to Jeno. “Nice cross. I thought shit like that burned your skin? You know, because you’re a demon and all that.”

Jeno’s eyes smile with him and it’s hard to remember that he’s a monster. He brushes his thumb against the small mark under his eye, shrugging. “Nah, only the blessed ones. Or, y’know, the silver ones. But this one? I just wanted to piss off the church daddy who told me that I deserved to rot in worse places than the sewer.“

You snort before you can stop yourself. “Church daddy?”

He waves a dismissive hand. “Church daddy, father, same thing.” A pause. “Hey, Mark, isn’t that your dad?”

Mark avoids eye contact and nods. “Yeah, but I like, I don’t like, speak for him, y’know?” He laughs nervously.

“You don’t have to.” That’s the one you don’t recognize, glaring at Mark. “We can tell it’s what you’re thinking. You don’t even have the decency to look at us?”

“And who are you? Their vampire bitch or something?” You snap to Mark’s defense, not wanting the vampires to prey on Mark’s nerves.

The boy lunges like he’s going to attack you but Jeno grabs him by the neck. Jaemin laughs. “Careful princess, that hits a little too close to home for our little Renjun over here.” To clarify, he leans a little closer and lowers his voice. Not like it matters, the other two can hear him just fine. “Jeno got carried away while feeding the other day and turned him.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and this time you don’t have a witty comeback. Vampires are monsters, yes, but they have laws. And it is very, very illegal to turn a human. “That’s-”

“Against the law?” Jeno finishes. “Yeah. It was an accident though, plus he’s from out of town! So I can’t technically get in trouble.”

“Technically.” You mock, rolling your eyes. “Whatever, we’ve got places to be so if we could speed this conversation up?”

Jaemin pouts. “So soon? You’re already late for church, why even bother going?”

You stand your ground. “Good bye, Jaemin. Make sure you do a better job of training your new puppy.” Renjun snarls at you.

“What, like how you trained your puppy?” Jaemin nods over at Mark and the boys face turns red. “Bye, y/n, Mark. I’d ask you to say hello to God for me but he doesn’t exist!”

He walks off with that as a goodbye, Renjun and Jeno on his heels. Jeno at least has the decency to smile at you and tell you to have a good rest of your day.

They’re right about one thing: going to church when you‘re already late sucks. A few people glance back at you and Mark when you sneak in, sitting in the last row. You spot your parents sitting in the front row along with Mark’s brother. Luckily none of them notice you slipping in, so they won’t know just how late you were.

Mark seems on edge and you pat his knee, frowning at how violently he flinches. You raise an eyebrow, silently asking if he’s okay. He just gives you a tight smile. Mark’s always been a nervous kid, so you figure it has to do with the little vampire interaction you just had. Or fear that his dad will yell at him for being late. They’re both pretty scary.

It’s not until after the service that you talk to your parents- your mother taking the time to hug Mark and pinch his cheeks before she even looks at you- and your father asks where you were.

“It was my fault, sir.” Mark speaks up, knowing that your parents adore him and won’t be upset. “I couldn’t find my church clothes, I forgot that they were in the wash and had to sort through all of my laundry. Y/n was an angel and stayed with me to help.”

“Huh,” Your father says, looking Mark up and down. “Well, your shoes could use a good polishing, but you look sharp, kid. Good man.” He pats Mark’s shoulder and walks off to talk to a friend. Your mother raises an eyebrow and shrugs, loading you up with tasks to take care of when you get home.

Do the dishes, fold the laundry, remember to take the store bought pie out of the container and pop it onto a plate so that it looks homemade. “Oh, and one last thing.” She stops you, turning away from her conversation about her book club meeting with some lady that she can’t stand. “I don’t want you walking through the city. Those vampires are getting braver and braver, attacking in broad daylight.”

“Okay, I’ll take the long way.” You promise her. She nods, and satisfied that you won’t die, turns back to her friends. You say goodbye to Mark and a handful of other people- most of whom you don’t like- and head home.

You have absolutely no intention of taking the long way home. It adds an extra half an hour to your walk and you swear you always get attacked by bugs. Besides, vampires might be dangerous, but it’s not like you have a high chance of encountering one. The three you’d talked to earlier were harmless, two of them attending your same university.

Jeno did medical research, occasionally stepping in to teach if the professors needed help. He’s technically a doctor, but he finds ways to multitask. The benefits of being immortal, you suppose, is that you learn a lot, especially if you’ve been alive since the 1100’s. He was nice enough by himself, though he would never answer your questions about history. Not that he wouldn’t try, but the poor guy would just get so confused that he would end up rambling about a completely unrelated topic.

Jaemin was a little different. He took classes, though his goal was to learn about interesting topics and keep up with the culture, not to fit in like Edward Cullen and prey on teenage girls. For someone so old, he’s surprisingly good at the technology classes, learning how to use a camera faster than your much younger parents. Jaemin also holds tutoring sessions for struggling students, pretty much offering help for every subject. Sometimes he assists Jeno with his research, though he never says what they’re researching. It’s always the same vague answer: medicine.

You know them pretty well, and yet you wouldn’t say that you’re friends. Vampires and humans coexist, but it’s not always that peaceful. There’s a definite divide between the two, a definite feeling of “we’re better than them” coming from both sides. And you can see why that divide is there, you can understand why.

After all, it’s not like you’re too fond of vampires yourself.

Cursed to hell, is a phrase used too often by your parents, by the church. God’s reject’s is another. And when you look at them, it’s hard to disagree with those statements.

They don’t burn in the sun but they can’t touch silver, can’t say God’s name, can’t enter a building without explicit permission. They catch on fire when they enter holy places (they’re fine to enter the one across town, but that’s another story).

Similar insults are used to describe humans. “How can you call us God’s rejects when you die so easily?” One vampire had countered when you were in middle school, pointing out that vampires couldn’t get diseases or die of natural causes like a human. He’d called you weak. You’d thrown a cross at him. Both of you had been suspended.

Still, you don’t hate vampires. And you especially can’t hate vampires now, not when you’re failing your chemistry class and your only option for help is Na Jaemin.

Mark has a different opinion. “Y/n, you can’t go to his house! He’ll kill you!”

You laugh. “Mark, come on. It’s either he kills me, or my parents kill me when they find out I wasted my tuition on a class I failed. It’ll be fine.” He still looks unhappy. You wiggle your fingers at him. “Look! I have silver rings on. I’m wearing my cross. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling your parents you were killed by a vampire, y/n.” He sounds dead serious and you raise your eyebrows.

“Mark, I’m helping with a research project. I’m not deciding to work for the food bank.” You point out. “This is the only way I can make up my grade, Mark. It’s generous of my professor to even let me do this.” He sighs, knowing there’s no arguing with you, and pulls his necklace off. Walking closer, he drapes the silver cross over your head. “Fine. Just, please be careful.” You smile and pat his cheek, tucking the charm under the collar of your shirt. “I always am.”

Jaemin lives in a pretty nice house on the top of the hill, which sucks because your calves are burning by the time you get up there. It has a pretty view, though, and it’s a decent distance away from his closest neighbor. You always joke that he could kill someone up here. Going up alone, that joke doesn’t seem as funny.

He’s got an old fashioned knocker on the wooden door that you only use because you’re not too fond of digging splinters out of your hands. It makes a pretty solid sound, and it barely takes five seconds before Jaemin answers the door. He looks good, wearing a dark blue button up with his hair pushed off of his forehead. Almost like he put some effort in. He obviously catches you giving him a once over and he grins.

“Eager to see me?” You tease, stepping past him into his house. He laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, of course. The world revolves around you, I just had to get a glimpse.” Jaemin drawls.

“Alright, what’s the research project?” You ask, wanting to get straight to the point. “I’m only here because I need to pass my class, Jaemin.

He takes his time flipping through a book on his coffee table before glancing up at you, rolling his sleeves up to his forearms. “The effects of vampire blood in humans.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket. “If you say that you’re making me drink your blood, we’re going to have a problem.”

“Fucking hell, y/n. I know you humans have a problem with vampires, but I’m a researcher. I do research, and I do it just as responsibly and professionally as human researchers.” Jaemin snaps, and it’s probably the first time you’ve ever heard him not use a flirting or teasing tone. “And besides, we already know what that would do. It would only turn you.” You swallow thickly at the thought of being turned. “Then what do you need me here for?” “We just need a few of your cells and a tiny blood sample.” Jaemin says, moving to where you stand next to the counter. “We’re researching if vampire blood has an effect on strengthening human cells, or preventing undesirable circumstances that affect humans. You know, aging, disease, the like.” He hands you some paperwork and you glance over it briefly. There’s nothing about him draining you dry of blood, so you sign it. “Great. We won’t be taking the samples today considering we’re at my house, but I’ll walk you through the basics of what we’re doing. You know, assuming that you’re smart enough to understand it.” “I’m not fucking dumb, Jaemin.” You snap, glaring at him.

“No, of course not.” He sympathises, smiling down at you. “Just a little slow. Come on y/n, you’re failing one of the easiest courses at the university. You’re not exactly smart.”

You shove the papers over to Jaemin, purposely letting your silver rings graze his exposed skin. Jaemin flinches back from your touch, a sharp hiss leaving him as he grabs at his wrist. He glares at you. “You fucking serious?”

It’s mean, but what he said wasn’t exactly nice. You meet his gaze head on, eyebrow arched. “What’s the matter, leech? Can’t take the heat?” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to ground himself. It’s probably not smart to goad him, but that’s exactly what you do. “Aww, don’t ignore me, leech. It’s rude. Didn’t your parents ever teach you any manners?”

All the air in your body leaves you with a whoosh as Jaemin pins you up against the wall, wrists held over your head by one of his hands. A dull pain radiates through your body and you’re sure you’ll have bruises on your back from the impact, not that Jaemin seems to care. The boy stares down at you with dark eyes, standing way too close for comfort.

“My parents died 300 years ago.” Jaemin snarls. “But yours are still alive. Didn’t they teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re not older than me.” The words are intended to be fierce, defiant. They come out shaky, timid. “You’re a dead man, Jaemin.”

That makes him laugh, though you don’t think he’s found your words funny. “Yeah? Do I seem dead to you?” He tightens his grip on your wrist and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up, make you look him in the eyes. “I can feel your heartbeat, little girl. You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” You are. He knows that.

“No?” He raises his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side before dipping down, letting his mouth hover over your neck. “Not even now?”

You shake your head, swallowing down a whimper. He’s right about your heartbeat, it’s fluttering so frantically that you can hear it in your ears, feel it under your skin. You’re scared, but not for the reasons he thinks you are.

Jaemin smiles at you, fangs on full display, and moves even closer to your neck. The sharp points of his fangs graze your skin and you swallow down your whimper, head falling back against the wall. You’re not scared of what Jaemin could do to you.

You’re scared of what you want him to do to you.

He scrapes his fangs along your neck, an action that’s painful in the most pleasurable way, but doesn’t break the skin. His tongue darts out instead, soothing over the pain before his lips press to your skin in an open mouthed kiss. Your fingers flex above your head and you ache to touch him, to fist your hand in his soft hair and pull him closer.

A moan leaves you and he pulls away, pressing his thumb to the area. Jaemin can feel your pulse from there and he smirks at how frantically your heart beats.

“You’re not scared?” Jaemin asks, the question condescending. He doesn’t believe you. “You do realize that I could sink my fangs into your pretty little neck and drain you dry, right?”

The mention of him biting you drags a keen out of your throat, and you find yourself whimpering out a “please” before you can help yourself. It has Jaemin pausing, eyes roaming over you as he reassesses the situation.

“Oh, you really aren’t scared.” Jaemin smirks. “Who knew that you were so fucking filthy?” He doesn’t wait for a response, dipping his head down and trailing the tip of his tongue up your throat. It feels nice, so, so nice, but it’s interrupted by a burning pain, a sob ripping from you at the intensity of it.

You thrash against his hold, but then the pain starts to get replaced with a pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever felt, and you slowly melt into his touch, arching against him to expose more of your throat.

Jaemin pulls away eventually, licking over your wound a few times before pulling back to give you a bloody grin. “Feels good, yeah?” You nod, and the bliss must be apparent on your face because Jaemin chuckles darkly before leaning back in. “You want more, don’t you?”

“Yeah, want it.” The words are breathless and slur together, your body thrumming with heat, begging for more. Jaemin does the opposite of what you want and steps away.

“Be a good girl and take those fucking rings off, then.” Jaemin commands, and you swear you’ve never moved faster than you’re moving now, carelessly dropping your jewelry to the floor. Mark’s necklace lands near his foot and he scowls at it, crushing the piece of metal beneath the heel of his shoe.

You immediately grab for him when you’re done, but Jaemin doesn’t let you pull him forward. He just scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to the sofa. You end up straddling his lap, his back pressing into the couch, and he wastes no time before sinking his fangs back into your neck.

“God,” You breathe out, winding your arms around his neck, pulling his head closer to you. “F-fuck, Jaem, that feels so good.”

He just hums against your throat, continuing to suck and lick at the wound. There’s a little bit of blood on his lips when he pulls away and you wipe at it with your thumb before letting the digit slip past his lips. He sucks on it slowly, gazing up at you with dark eyes, and lets his fangs graze the skin. Arousal jolts through you and you whimper, pulling your hand away and dragging him back to your neck.

“Baby wants more?” Jaemin teases, not waiting for an answer before sinking his fangs into you, this spot even more sensitive than the last. You whine loudly, tugging at his hair and feeling your eyes roll back in your head at the euphoria spreading through your body. Your head feels fuzzy and there’s so much heat coursing through you that you can barely function.

“Mhmm, yeah.” You pant out. “Want more. Oh my God Jaemin, I’m so fucking wet.”

Jaemin groans at your words, one of his hands sliding up your thigh before moving inwards, cupping your pussy over your clothes. He pulls his hand away when you try to grind down, grabbing onto your hip to stop your movements.

“No.” He growls, the simple word vibrating through your entire body and making you shake. “You come from this, nothing else.”

Tears slip down your cheeks as you hold onto him for dear life, your core clenching desperately around nothing. You hug him tighter, letting your head fall back on your shoulders to expose more of your throat, your lips parted to let Jaemin drag sound after sound of pleasure out of you. It feels good, way too good considering the action, and you lose yourself to the feeling.

The collar of your shirt is tugged down and then Jaemin’s lips are attaching to the top of your breast, fangs sinking into the delicate flesh. You keen and shove your chest further into his face, not knowing what else to do besides hold onto him for dear life. Your body feels heavy but your head feels light and it’s such a startling contrast to the euphoria coursing through your veins that it makes you dizzy. It’s hard to see straight, let alone think straight, and your pussy throbs with every little bit of blood that Jaemin takes from your body. Your hips rock against nothing but air, desperately searching for some sort of friction, something to fill your needy cunt, but you can’t find anything and it has you sobbing out in frustration.

More bite marks are left, more electricity shoots through your body, more wetness drips out of your pussy. You swear you’ve never felt this good in your life, and that’s only confirmed when Jaemin seals his lips over the first mark he left, licking and sucking at the wound until it opens all over again and you feel yourself falling, white flashing behind your eyes as the most intense orgasm of your life crashes over you. You grab at Jaemin as tightly as you can, screaming his name and babbling incoherently as he drags out your pleasure, lets you get high off all of his kisses and bites.

It lasts forever, and it takes even longer for you to come down to yourself, Jaemin stroking your hair and your back. You open your eyes to find him already looking at you, his face clean and dry of any blood. It takes you a while to notice that there’s an ice pack on your neck and a plate of food on the table in front of you, and you vaguely wonder how long you were out for if Jaemin had time to do all of this for you.

“Don’t move too fast, baby.” Jaemin cautions, noticing you struggling to sit up. “I took way more blood than I meant to, you’re gonna feel a little weak.” “A little?” Your muscles feel like jelly when you try to push yourself off of him and you collapse back onto Jaemin’s chest with a soft groan. Jaemin huffs a laugh and helps you sit up, turning you around on his lap so that your back is to his chest. He drops a soft kiss to your ear and your eyelids flutter.

“Here, take these.” Pills are dropped into your hand, a bottle of some energy drink you don’t recognize. “It’ll replace all the nutrients and stuff you lost.” Jaemin watches you down the drink in one go, tossing it across the room when you hand the empty bottle back to him. “How are you feeling?”

Your vision is much clearer than it was, though you still feel lethargic and would like to do nothing except lay down in a soft bed for the rest of your life. “My head hurts.” Jaemin hums. “Okay. I would rattle off some instructions for you to follow but I know it’ll just make your headache worse. I’ll write them down for you instead, how’s that.” “You’re so self aware.” Reality hits you when you feel the bruises on your throat, on your chest, and realize that yes, all of that did just happen. “Um. I didn’t know it could feel that-” You trail off, hand waving vaguely in the air. “Good?” Jaemin offers, laughing when you nod. “Mhmm, did they not tell you about that? I’m sure they make it sound like being bitten by a vampire is the worst thing imaginable at that fancy church you go to.” You look away, embarrassed, and Jaemin laughs. “You know that humans make drugs out of our saliva, right? That’s why there are hunters.” Your eyes shoot open in alarm. “Really? That’s awful.”

Jaemin hums, nodding. “Yeah, well, when it’s profitable...” He laughs bitterly. “Anyways, it’s an expensive drug. And you just got that shit for free.”

“I feel so honored.” You laugh, snuggling into him. He pushes you back.

“Y/n, I need you to understand something.” Jaemin says, tone suddenly serious. His eyes burn straight into your soul. “That was a mistake. I’m not- we can’t do that again.”

It shouldn’t hurt you. What you just did is considered shameful by many, you should be relieved that he’s telling you it can’t happen again. You shouldn’t want to spend more time with a vampire. “Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” You nod, looking away from his intense gaze to blink back your tears. “Yeah, we just got carried away.” Jaemin looks like he wants to say something else, lips parting for a second before shaking his head, offering a tight smile instead. “We got everything done that we needed to get done. You should rest now.”

He doesn’t mean now as in right this second, which he made especially clear after telling you that it was a mistake, but you can’t help it. You’re asleep in seconds.

When you wake up for the second time, Jaemin is nowhere to be found. You’re in your own bed, tucked in nice and neatly, and you smile as you realize it meant that the vampire had carried you home. There’s the list of instructions that he’d promised you on your nightstand, signed with nearly illegible hand-writing. Your smile grows before promptly dropping off. Vampires can’t get into a house without being invited. You’ve never invited him in, which means that he must’ve either asked permission from Mark or your parents. Neither is good.

The gravity of the situation hits you when Mark walks into your room, jaw set, arms crossed. He blanches when he sees your neck, the sight clearly making him uncomfortable. “Holy- y/n, I told you that you couldn’t trust Jaemin. You’re lucky I was here when you brought you home because I can guarantee your parents would react way worse than me.”

“Jaemin was fine. He didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to.” You see the exact moment that those words process in Mark’s mind, his face going from worried to angry.

“You let him drink from you? What were you thinking? Y/n, you look like you got mauled.” Mark sounds disgusted and you try not to shrink into yourself.

The bruises ache when you press over one of them and an overwhelming sense of embarrassment washes over you at how it makes you shiver. “Relax, it’s not like I let him turn me. We just got caught up in the heat of the moment. Mark, it felt so good.” Your eyelids flutter shut at the memory, snapping back open when Mark scoffs.

“So what? You want to be their blood bag now?” Mark’s voice rises in pitch as he yells and the sound grates on your nerves. “Wanna be a vampire whore for the rest of your life? Live in a dusty ass attic and let whoever walks by have a go at you?” “Mark, what- do you hear yourself? What the fuck is your problem?” Mark’s been your best friend since you were five. Never, never, have you heard him talk like this. It hurts.

“Do I hear myself? Y/n, I should be the one asking you that. Here you are, creaming yourself while talking about letting some fucking, some bloodsucker tear your throat open! It’s disgusting.” Mark scoffs, shaking his head. “You’re just as bad as Do-” He cuts himself off suddenly, but you know what he was about to say. “Just as bad as who? Donghyuck?” You shake your head, feeling hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. “It must run in the family to become filthy disappointments, then.”

Mark’s eyes soften and he grabs your wrist, rubbing circles into your skin with his thumb. “It’s not too late for you. Let’s go to the church, you can pray for forgiveness.”

You feel numb when you nod, letting Mark wrap a scarf around your neck and lead you down the road. He sits next to you in the pews, rubbing your shoulder while you rest your forehead on your hands, pretending to pray. But you can’t focus, can’t stop thinking about your brother.

Donghyuck was Mark’s best friend before you were. The three of you would hang out a lot, though you only joined the two because as Donghyuck’s younger sister, he felt obligated to include you. The two boys were inseparable, and then one day, they weren’t.

Your parents say that he was tainted by the devil. Mark’s father says that he betrayed God. You think Donghyuck simply fell in love. And love is a beautiful thing, but not when it’s between a vampire and a human. Your brother was forced to choose between his family and his love.

In the end, he chose love.

That night, you toss and turn in bed, unable to stop thinking about your brother. If he’s alive, if he’s a vampire. If he’s dead. What you would do in his situation. Not that it matters, because you wouldn’t fall in love with a vampire, but you can’t help but wonder. Is it really that bad? They were once human, too.

The thought doesn’t leave your mind even when you go to the lab, meeting an uncharacteristically quiet Jaemin, and a very excited looking Jeno. “Y/n! Thank you so much for doing this!” “Yeah, well, gotta pass my classes somehow.” You laugh. Jaemin doesn’t meet your eyes when you look at him, keeping his gaze just a little too low and frowning.

“Seriously though, this is great. I’ve been trying to get permission for this experiment for ages, the fact that the administration finally caved is insane.” Jeno says, turning to ruffle through some papers on the desk. You shoot a curious glance at Jaemin, finally realizing that he’s staring at your neck. Or well, your covered neck. He’s trying to see the marks. With a glance towards Jeno, you carefully slide the fabric of your turtle neck down, laughing silently at how Jaemin inhales sharply, lips parting slightly. You yank it back up when Jeno turns around. “Jaemin informed you of the experiment, correct?” You shoot Jaemin a look. “Yeah! You just need to take a couple of blood samples, right?” Jeno shakes his head, tilting his head at Jaemin. “Not exactly. We’re going to need you to take microdoses of vampire blood.”

It takes a moment to register. “You want me to drink vampire blood?” You screech, eyes bulging. “That’s going to turn me!” Jeno shakes his head, laughing. “With the amount we’re giving you? No. It’ll only turn you if a vampire drinks your blood, and you die. You’ll be fine.” Next to you, Jaemin stiffens. You bite your lip. “Um. Like at the same time, or?” “It doesn’t have to be at the exact same time. If you’ve been bitten before, you can’t drink any blood or you’ll be turned. But again, that’s only if you die.” Jeno tilts his head. “Have you been bitten before?” “Jeno.” Jaemin draws his attention away before you can respond. “It’s just a microdose, right? Like, barely enough to have an effect?” He considers this. “Well, I mean, not enough to have negative effects.”

You and Jaemin share a long look. Jaemin had drunk your blood not even a week earlier. It's dangerous. But it’s a small amount. Jeno said there wouldn’t be any negative effects. And you can’t fail this class. You send Jaemin a pleading look. Jaemin swallows thickly and looks back to Jeno.

“She’ll be fine?” Jaemin’s voice is shaky.

Jeno nods. “Caring for a human? That’s odd, coming from you. But yeah, she’ll be fine.”

You exhale heavily. “I’ll do it.”

There are more papers to be signed, more blood to be drawn. Though this time Jeno takes it in a much more professional manner, drawing it out and putting it into a test tube. Next to you, Jaemin squeezes his eyes shut and you watch his jaw clench. You want to tease him but you can’t, not in front of Jeno.

Despite Jeno’s reassurances, the worry doesn’t leave you. He doesn’t know what you and Jaemin did, doesn’t know that you’ve been bitten by a vampire. And maybe it doesn’t matter- it’s not like you’re going to die or anything, which is what needs to happen for you to turn- but you need some sort of comfort.

That’s how you end up bailing on your Friday night dinner with Mark’s family, saying that you need to finish a project that’s due that night. Your parents roll their eyes and scold you for not taking your studies seriously, but let you skip the dinner. Mark shakes his head at you, disapproving of you working with a vampire, but keeps his mouth shut.

If Jaemin’s surprised when you show up at his door, he doesn’t show it. He just smirks at you, leaning against the door frame. “Hey blood bag.” You scoff and shove past him into the house, dropping down onto the sofa you sat on last time. “When did you start calling me that, leech?”

“When you let me drink from you.” Jaemin says plainly, sitting next to you. “Is there a reason you’re here? I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but-” “But we didn’t tell Jeno you drank from me.” You interrupt. “We need to tell him. He’s been waiting forever for this, he’ll be devastated if we ruin it.”

Jaemin nods, considering it. “Y/n, you know you’ll get kicked off the project if we tell him, right?” You nod, biting your lip. “Look, Jeno’s been my best friend for hundreds of years. I hate keeping this from him more than you do.” “Then why are you?” It doesn’t make sense. You’re certainly not friends, or at least you weren’t before last week.

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are dark and it looks like there’s a war raging behind them, but he doesn’t elaborate on what’s bothering him. The sharp points of his teeth dig into his bottom lip as he bites it nervously, blood beading at the cut when he finally looks back at you.

You don’t think when you bring your thumb up to swipe at his lower lip, skin coming away red. Jaemin watches in fascination as you bring the digit up to your own mouth, sliding it past your lips, sucking the blood away. He swallows thickly.

“Does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” You ask, glancing from his lips to his face. He shakes his head gently.

“It feels good for you because of our saliva.” Jaemin explains. “But it doesn’t feel bad when you do it, it’s just-” He makes a vague gesture with his hand as if trying to pull the words out of thin air. “It’s very intimate.”

He licks his lips, then, digs his teeth back into his bottom lip. It’s a subconscious movement but you still lean in to press a kiss over where the blood pricks up, nipping just hard enough to have a growl rumbling in Jaemin’s chest before soothing the wound with your tongue. You pull away and smile, licking the blood off of your lips.

You don’t even have time to make a witty remark over how affected Jaemin looks because he’s pulling you onto his lap, crashing your lips together with enough force that you’re sure they’ll bruise. It draws a moan from you and Jaemin eagerly drinks it in, fisting his hand in your hair and deepening the kiss.

A gasp leaves you when he pulls away, trails his lips down your throat. You tense in anticipation, a whine getting trapped in your throat when his fangs just barely scrape the skin. He leaves a wet kiss there, pulling away to look up at you. “Want me to bite you, baby?”

“God, yeah.” You moan out, tilting your head to expose more of your neck.

“Ah, I’d rather you didn’t say that name in my house.” Jaemin laughs. He moves back to your throat, digging his fangs into the spot he’d marked. There’s less pain this time, pleasure coursing through you almost instantly. You whine and tighten your grip on his hair.

Electricity runs through your veins as Jaemin takes what he wants, marking up your body. You breathe out something along the lines of “want more” and Jaemin takes it to heart, scooping you up and carrying you to his room in record time. He tosses you onto the mattress, crawling over you not even a second later to press his lips to yours.

He fits himself easily between your legs, rocking his hips down in a rare show of desperation. You can feel exactly how affected he is, his hardness pressing deliciously against your core. Another plea of “more” is whispered against his lips and he doesn’t need any more encouragement, pulling away to move further down your body. He kisses and nips his way down your torso, pushing your shirt up to reveal more skin to him, dropping kiss after kiss to the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your pants. Your core throbs at the feeling of having him so close to you and you squirm, trying to spread your legs more, trying to articulate that you need something, anything.

“J-Jaemin, take them off.” You whine, pushing at the waistband. “I need you.”

The coldness of his hands brushing against your skin when he drags your pants down has you shivering, squirming. He tosses your clothing to the floor and wastes no time attaching his lips to the inside of your thigh, holding you down when you squirm.

“Is this okay?” Jaemin asks, concern mixing with his arousal. He brushes his index finger over your pussy, making your back arch in an effort to get him closer to where you need him.

“More than.” Despite your assurances, Jaemin doesn’t touch you. He moves his hand up to your abdomen, flattening his palm to keep you pinned down. You whine in annoyance, but the teeth dragging over your inner thigh has you shutting up. A gasp leaves you before he even sinks his fangs in, your pussy absolutely throbbing with need. He presses another gentle kiss to the skin and, raising his gaze to make eye contact with you, bites you.

It’s more intense than when he bit your neck or your chest. It sets your body on fire in the best of ways, leaves you writhing under his touch. Your eyes roll in your head and your hands flail in an effort to grab something, anything to ground yourself. It’s amazing, and just when you think you’ve reached heaven, he touches you.

You’re soaking wet and Jaemin’s fingers slide into you effortlessly, fill you up so well. It’s too much effort to keep your eyes open and so you let them drift shut, let yourself fall into the bliss. There’s pressure against your lips and you open your eyes to find Jaemin hovering over you, sliding two fingers past your lips. You didn’t even realize he’d stopped biting you.

“Suck.” He commands, and who are you to disobey? You wrap your lips around the digits and hum at the taste of yourself, at the weight of them in your mouth. “Taste good, baby?” “Mhmm, yeah.” Your words are slurred around the digits and you suck even harder around them, letting your tongue trace patterns around them. Jaemin swears softly and grinds down against your thigh.

He presses one more kiss to your lips before sliding down your body. “My turn to taste.”

Maybe there should be some sort of alarm going through your system when Jaemin lowers his mouth to your core. Some sort of reminder that he has some very sharp fangs, that he has just bit you in multiple places, and that his fangs are right in the place that fangs should never be. But it feels heavenly when he licks a stripe between your folds, when he fucks his tongue into your hole. His hands keep you pinned to the mattress, super strength coming in handy to control your squirming.

The pleasure consumes you and it’s so much, too much, and your eyes want to squeeze shut but Jaemin looks up at you and his gaze is magnetic, making it impossible to look away from him. Your body’s on fire, burning brighter with every flick of his tongue, every moan he lets out into your core. He pulls away to drop his head to the apex of your thigh, digging his fangs into the delicate skin there, and you can’t fight the scream that rips from your throat. You’re babbling, chanting incoherent words as you try to explain how good it feels, how you never want him to stop. His hair is soft in your grip and it’s the only thing keeping you anchored, the only thing preventing you from drowning in pleasure.

“You taste so good, baby.” Jaemin moans, pulling away momentarily to make a show of licking his lips. “Everything about you is so delicious.” He returns to your core, lapping at your hole before flicking his tongue over your clit, laughing at how your body jolts. There’s nothing but hunger in his eyes as he sucks your clit between his lips, fucking two fingers into your needy cunt. He does it again, hitting all of your sensitive spots, making you scream with bliss as you finally tip over the edge.

Wave after wave of euphoria crash into you and your lungs burn as your gasp for air. You’re drowning in the best way possible, surrounded by nothing but pleasure and Jaemin, Jaemin, Jaemin.

He works you through it with gentle flicks of his tongue, hands smoothing over your thighs to bring you back down. You manage to find enough strength to shove at his head when it gets to be too much, tiredly sinking into the mattress when he pulls away. Jaemin wipes at his mouth and bends down to kiss you lazily, nipping at your lip just to hear you whine. He smooths your hair down and brushes a few strands out of your face, smiling down at how fucked out you are. And you’d be content to lay wrapped in his arms, with Jaemin cooing softly at how pretty you are and petting your head, but you can feel how hard he is.

“Jaemin,” You murmur, shifting in his hold. “Jaem, wanna make you feel good.” “It’s alright, you don’t h- oh, shit baby- you don’t have to.” He has to fight to get the words out, a groan interrupting his sentence when you grab at his cock. You pout at him and manage to tug his pants down just enough for you to pull him out.

“But I want to.” You smile, leaning up for a kiss. Jaemin doesn’t bother replying, just presses his lips back to yours and melts into your touch. The way you jerk him off is lazy, your energy drained from how intense your orgasm was. Though with the way Jaemin groans against your lips and tightens his grip on your hip, you don’t think that he minds.

He moans your name when he comes, a beautiful sound that has your stomach twisting with heat. White spills over your knuckles and onto his stomach and you bring your hand up to your mouth, licking at it curiously. Jaemin watches you with heavy lids before collapsing onto the mattress.

“Fuck,” He sighs, eyelids drifting shut. “Why’re you so good to me?” “Why are you so good to me?” You mumble back in response, curling up into him. “Thanks for not biting my pussy.” Something about that sets Jaemin off and his body shakes with the laughter running through him. A giggle leaves you. “What?” Jaemin shakes his head, still laughing. “Nothing. Come on, gotta get you some food.”

And that’s how it goes. You and Jaemin continue to hook up, although he does end up saying ‘fuck it’ and attempting to actually teach you chemistry. Despite Mark’s fears, he doesn’t end up killing you. He’s a lot of fun to be around, plus he keeps his pantry stocked with various snacks. Sometimes he even cooks for you, if he’s feeling nice.

“What’s a vampire doing with all this food?” You ask one day, watching him make fried rice. He doesn’t respond, just staring down at the pan and offering you a shrug, though you swear you see him blush.

Your professor raises your grade to a C. It’s not stellar but it also isn’t failing, which you will happily take. There’s only a little bit of guilt when she beams at you while telling you how happy Jeno is with your dedication to the project.

Jeno continues to take blood samples, and you continue to not tell him that you’ve been bitten. It eats you up inside, but Jaemin’s always there to reassure you. Whether he’s trying to comfort you or himself more is up for debate.

Everything stays the same except for Mark.

He gets more distant, grows a little more resentful. There’s no smiles or teasing jokes, except for the polite ones he flashes in front of your parents. He starts to make up lies, too, which is something you promised to never do. Excuses to get him out of plans, saying there’s nothing wrong. And your best friend, the most timid, nicest boy you’ve ever met, begins to pick petty fights with you.

You’re over it, and it bothers you even if you try not to let it show. Jaemin rubs your back and tells you it’ll be okay, but you know it won’t. Because Jaemin’s the reason that Mark’s distant. And you have no plans to stop seeing him.

Talking to Jaemin, you’re sure Mark would have liked him if the circumstances were different. If Mark didn’t hate vampires so much, or if Jaemin were just a regular human college student like you. But those aren’t the circumstances, and so you have to deal with Mark’s whiny ass showing up at your door to drag you to church.

“Mark, it’s Thursday night.” You groan, shaking your textbook at him. “I have work to do!”

“Yeah, you also have praying to do.” Mark snaps, grabbing the book out of your hands. “Not like you even understand this.”

Which, ouch, that kind of hurts. Especially when Mark knows that you’re frustrated that you can’t get the subject down even though you try. You glare at him and reach for the book. “Mark, give it back. And I actually do understand this, Jaemin’s been helping-” “Helping what? Taint you? Turn you into one of their blood whores?” Mark grabs the book back and throws it across the room. “Y/n, come on. I’m not letting this happen to you too.” He pulls you after him despite your grumbling, though he at least has the decency to let you put shoes on. Just because you go freely doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, complaining as Mark drags you through the city. “Jesus Christ Mark, has it ever occurred to you that Donghyuck had free will? That he willingly chose to be with her because he loved her?” You’re fed up with Mark, fed up with everyone. “God Mark, they’re not that bad!” Mark stares at you for a moment. “What, they’re brainwashing you too? How is it that both you and your brother are so dumb? I know you weren’t raised like this.”

“Well at least I wasn’t raised to be such an ignorant asshole.” You snap. “I have the ability to make my own decisions, something you apparently lack.” “Oh, so what’s that supposed to mean?” Mark stops walking suddenly, crossing his arms as he waits for an answer. You open your mouth to yell at him when a flash of movement catches your eyes. Squinting, you make out a group of guys, and they’re close enough that you can hear them laughing when one of them wipes… is that blood on his mouth? “Mark, we have to go.” You whisper. The vampires don’t see you and you’re hoping that you can get the two of you out of there safely. “Come on-” “No, tell me what you mean!” Mark yells, stubbornly standing in place. You groan and try to drag him away but he doesn’t budge. “Come on y/n, tell me what you fucking mean.” You shoot a worried glance over your shoulder, surprised when you don’t see the vampires. There’s a second of relief, lasting only until you turn around to find them standing right behind Mark. You squeak in surprise. Mark freezes too, one of the men having grabbed him by the shoulders. His face presses way too close to Mark’s neck and you jump when you feel hands on your own shoulders.

“Aww, lover’s spat?” The guy holding Mark laughs. “That’s okay, we’ve all been there, right guys?” The rest of his friends cackle in the creepiest way that you can imagine. “Come on, we can resolve this.” You and Mark look back and forth between each other worriedly. There’s no way out of this, you realize. No way to even try.

“Don’t you wanna know how we can resolve this?” This time the guy holding you speaks and it’s so close to your ear that you flinch, nearly jumping out of your skin. He laughs and his fangs graze your skin, but it doesn’t send pleasure through you like when Jaemin does it. It sends chills down your spine, makes you want to cry. “Answer me.” “N-no.” You stutter out, eyes squeezed shut in fear. “Please, just let us go.” The guy sighs and lets go of you. “Alright.” You and Mark share a look before bolting, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Freedom only lasts for a second before you’re being grabbed again, yanked backwards.

“Stupid girl. I don’t appreciate being told no.” You whimper and you can hear Mark screaming your name, screaming for help, screaming for anything.

It’s the last thing you hear.

“Jaemin, you’re an idiot. Literally the dumbest person I know.” There’s a familiar voice swimming through your head and you try to move towards it, finding your entire body feels drained.

“Yes, I’ve been told.” Is that Jaemin’s voice? It sounds a lot clearer, drags you out of the darkness. “But look, it ended up being good, right? She’s alive.” You finally manage to pry your eyes open and immediately regret it, slamming them shut and curling into yourself. A groan leaves you and the two stop talking. “Y/N? Baby, it’s me.” There’s a hand on your cheek, brushing against the skin gently, and you press into his touch. “How are you feeling?” “Bad.” You croak out through a dry throat, cringing at how dry it feels. Jaemin laughs softly and something presses to your lips. “Here, drink this.”

You didn’t realize how hungry you were until you get the first taste, and then suddenly you find the strength in your body to take gulp after gulp of the drink. It brings a little bit of warmth to your body, makes you feel less achy. You even manage to pry your eyelids open.

Jeno and Jaemin greet you, both men looking relieved. Jaemin beams at you, dipping down for a kiss. “Hey baby.” “What happened?” You frown, trying to remember how you got to Jaemin’s couch. “Did I- I was walking to the church and we were attacked.” Oh shit, you weren’t alone. You search frantically around the room. “Did Mark- is he okay?” The thought of your best friend- no matter how strained your relationship was at the end- dying is too much for you to handle.

Jaemin smiles. “He’s the one that brought you to me.”

“He’s okay?” Jeno nods in confirmation.

“They only wanted to kill for fun, guess you were enough.” Jeno says. “Speaking of killing, Jaemin has a lot of explaining to do. And since I don’t trust him to do a good job, I’m going to stay here!” You look between the two. “Kill? Am I- I’m dead?” Jaemin makes a face. “Fucking- I’m a vampire?” Your words come out shrill and the two boys cringe.

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck. “My bad. But, um, I’ll take care of you! Don’t worry.” Then, to Jeno: “Come on man, can’t we have a second of peace? I literally never thought I was going to see her again.” Jeno sighs, glaring at his friend before walking away. “Dramatic.”

You’re in Jaemin’s arms in the next second, held close to his chest. “Fuck y/n, I’m so sorry.” His voice is shaky and he keeps his face pressed into your neck. “This is all my fault, I don’t know how I’m going to make it up to you.” “We’ll figure it out later.” You tug at his hair to get him to look you in the eyes. “I almost died, Jaemin. Give me a headache later. Right now…” You trail off, letting your lips stretch wide. “Kiss me.” It draws a snort from Jaemin. “You were dead like an hour ago and now you want to fuck?” “No!” You whine and smack his chest. “I just want a kiss, get your mind out of the gutter.” Jaemin teases you some more, making you laugh and smack him to stop before you finally say fuck it and pull him closer, smashing your lips together. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your body. You have a lot to worry about, but you’ve also got all the time in the world to worry about it. It makes you sick to think about, and for now, you want to just relax. Not that Jaemin seems to mind, happily letting you curl into his chest, stroking your head. You’re not alone, you have Jaemin, and you know he’ll help you through this.

+ You’re not expecting a welcome home party. You’re also not expecting to find all of your belongings scattered across the front yard, having very clearly been chucked from your bedroom window.

“Lovely.” You scoff, staring at the mess. The front door has the biggest cross you’ve ever seen nailed to it, complete with the silver door knob that you promptly burn yourself on. You stare at the door, wondering if you should knock. It swings open before you make your mind up.

Mark stares back at you with wide eyes and parted lips. “Y/n? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Mark.” You smile, tight lipped. “Jaemin told me you saved me.”

Mark looks like he’s about to say something but then his mouth closes and he shakes his head. “Y/n, you- you’re a vampire now. I can’t.” Mark doesn’t look you in the eye when he says it and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” You mock, shaking your head. “No you’re not. If you were sorry, you would fucking look me in the eyes.” He doesn’t. “You know it’s your fault I’m like this, right?” That gets him to look up at you. There’s fire in his eyes this time. “No, it’s your fault for whoring around with vampires.” You shake your head. “Who made me go to church that night?” He looks away and doesn’t answer the question. “Good bye, Mark.”

#nct smut #nct dream smut #nct fic #nct dream fic #jaemin smut #jaemin fic #jaemin fanfiction #jaemin vampire #na jaemin smut #kpop smut #supernatural nct #dream smut #kpop scenario #nct scenario #nct dream scenario #jaemin scenario

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meow-bebe · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Moon Taeil x reader Genre: fluff, high school au, best friends to lovers Word count: 1.1k Warnings: swearing A/n: psst @neonun-au this ones for you! youve been complaining about a lack of taeil content so heres a little something to keep you from having to reread your own work for the next few days heh. oh and google docs was bugging out and i had to write this whole thing on my phone so its unedited oops

[Taeil: Meet me at the playground in fifteen minutes?]

[You: Dude it’ll be dark soon]

[Taeil: Yeah i know and im sorry]

[Taeil: Please come before i change my mind]

[You: Well at least now i have an excuse to use the super cool lights on my bike wheels]

Your tone is harsher than the meaning behind it, and you’re sure Taeil knows that. He’s your oldest friend, after all.

You’ve been through so much with him. You met him the first day of school, and you clicked immediately. He had been with you through so many things, all your years of school, the time you broke your arm in seventh grade, your first major breakup. And on top of all that, he was the first person you ever truly loved. Not that he knew that of course.

He would do anything for you, and you would do anything for him. Which is probably why you found yourself leaving the house as the sun sinks below the treeline with what could barely even be classified as an excuse left for your mom.

The sky is still light, giving the trees that certain look of darkness that they only can achieve at a very certain time. It’s your favorite time of day, and as you turn your bike onto the path through the woods that connects to the other side of your neighborhood you find that you don’t actually mind that Taeil dragged you out here. The sky is beautiful, sporting the colorful oranges and purples of sunset, and though it’s surprisingly cool for the end of July the weather is perfect.

The wind caresses your face and whistles slightly through your wheels as you pedal quickly to the elementary school. Biking has never been your favorite means of transportation, but it was easy and cheap and if you went farther than over to Taeil’s house you could always get someone to drive you. Usually there would be a lot more complaining involved, but tonight you feel a strange peace amongst the trees despite your heaving breaths.

You catch sight of the pole which may or may not have once had a sign on it that indicates the exit from the path. From there it’s just a short ride down the street and around the corner before the school—and more importantly the playground—rises up before you. The gate has been left open, presumably by Taeil taking the same path, and as you ride through you spot his bike abandoned by the tree he always leaves it by. Taeil sits on the swingset, moving back and forth only slightly. He stares off in the other direction, and he seems nervous. You’ve known him too long and too well to not recognize the way that he obviously wants to fidget but shoves it down in order to remain mostly still.

“Hey!” you call out as you hop off your bike and set it down next to Taeil’s. He whips his head around in surprise and returns his own greeting.

“So what was so urgent that you called me out here to talk now?” you ask as you meander over to the swingset and take a seat on the swing next to Taeil, immediatelykicking at the ground to give yourself a bit of momentum. The nervousness that you detected in his body language a moment before surges up, swelling into his face as he gulps and twists his fingers together.

"Oh, nothing much. How're you?" His words are almost too calm, and he still refuses to meet your eye.

"'Nothing much'?" Your disbelief is obvious as you quirk an eyebrow upward.

"Just answer the question," Taeil mumbles.

You roll your eyes, slowly kicking your legs back and forth. The air has begun to chill slightly, and goosebumps begin to slowly form on your exposed skin. "Oh you know. Still going through constant internal turmoil over college. Go to college with my best friend and not have to separate myself from you or go to the best college for my major. Same old same old. You?"

"I'm in love with you," Taeil blurts out.

Your eyes pop open like a cartoon character's and you just barely manage to stop yourself from falling off your swing in surprise. "Holy fuck."

Silence falls between you as you try to gather your wits enough to form a sentence and Taeil sits statue still. The chorus of cicadas and the wind in the trees hums in the background as your surprise slowly fades enough for you to regain brain function.

"This is nothing much—"

"I understand if you—"

You speak at the same time but quickly cut off, each chuckling slightly. He was still Taeil, and you were still his best friend.

"You go first," you say with a slight smile that Taeil returns, if with slightly less enthusiasm.

"I get it if this makes you uncomfortable," he begins, taking a big breath. "Trust me, it weird me out just as much." You roll your eyes good naturedly and open your mouth to respond but Taeil barrels on like a runaway train. "I'm sorry this is so sudden but I needed to tell you and you've probably going to a different college than me and that's terrifying on it's own but the thought of you never knowing—"

"Taeil," you say, setting a hand on his shoulder, "do yourself a favor and actually breathe." He nods vigorously and wheezes in a breath, looking very much like he was about to continue his crazed monologue. Unfortunately, you couldnt hold yourself together anymore and burst out laughing. "You dumbass!" You finally cackle "I love you too!"

Now its Taeil's turn to almost fall over in surprise. "What?" You've never heard so much shock in his voice and for half a second you wonder if perhaps you just caused his brain to disintegrate. "Since when?"

You count backwards in your head, finally coming to the right year. "Eighth grade."

"Eighth grade?" He demands. "You mean we could have been dating this whole time?"

You snort out a laugh, "I don't know about that, anyone in their right mind would've dumped tenth grade you."

Taeil grimaces. "Good point."

"But hey," you say, a grin taking over you face, "others may arise but this solves one problem."

"Which is?" Taeil asks, fingers brushing across yours where they grip the chain suspending you from the swing set. You take his hand and swing your conjoined fingers back and forth between you. He offers you a small smile, happiness glowing on his face.

"I know which college I'm going to.”

@kpopscape @neowritingsnet @nct-writers

#kpopscape #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #taeil x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #moon taeil x reader #nct scenarios #taeil scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct imagines #taeil imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct fanfic #taeil fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #taeil fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff

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draken-rotzi · 3 years

Text

Bug Man x Reader Part One*

Read on AO3

SO, wanted to write something of this topic bc we all need some more Musical!BJ in our lives, it’s a nice comfort ngl, I enjoyed writing it and hope you do too c:

(Got carried away so here's the first half while I edit the second one in the meantime, it takes a bit to get to the main part we all want to read forgive mE it's better in th next one believeme)

I'd love some feedback since I haven't written anything since 2019 ;v; some wordings might seem odd since my brain speaks spanish first english second

Summary; Old boring university life and a broken but hopeful heart meet the supernatural and whacky demon/ghost with the most, reader-chan needs to get out from a toxic relationship and what's a better help than a magic dead man? Cutting ties might seem easier when someone else arrives and flips your world upside down with no warning.

Mostly fluff, bits of angst l8r

Female reader, but tried to not give any other specifics to the character themselves, OCs appear

It was a fresh autumn afternoon, birds still chirped before migrating to warmer areas for the winter, the wind was cold but nice, not yet freezing but enough for people to wear light coats. You sit on a school desk, a class about taxes and fees, you drift off a bit looking at the window while half-listening.

You lived in a medium but popular city, it was a great place, with nice, kind people for the most part, huge malls, restaurants and lots of places to go out with friends or alone.

...

"Miss ___? Care to answer this equation here for the class?" The teacher asks, a tall, slender woman that radiated authority, it made some students shiver in times like this with a direct question.

"Oh? Yeah- sure miss Adams" You replied, while trying not to look confused since you just missed the topic, hopefully you remembered from the last lesson by the time you walked up to the blackboard and took the marker to write.

...

After class, you were walking with your friends to the cafeteria next to the main exit to wait for an uber to arrive; your side job as a freelance wasn't good enough yet to afford a car, but it helped pay the bills and to have enough for a bit more more than the basic needs.

Your two best friends at college were Itai and Rob. Itai was a funny dude, with a darker tone on his skin, not so tall and full of charisma. Rob was a bit more collected, but still a lot of fun to be around, being the voice of reason for you three most of the time, emphasis in most, because sometimes he got carried away too.

"Man I hate that class, I don't understand a thing! Why do we even need math?" Itai tells the group, sounding annoyed as usual, he was a simple guy, but simple guys need a degree too, to secure a better job.

"Well if you paid attention instead of eating that cold baguette in class you won't be that confused my man" Rob replies, laughing a bit at the end

"At least you weren't asked to do math in front of the class" You sigh, putting down your backpack and sitting on a table next to the building's exit, looking at your phone to know how much time was left for the driver to arrive, around 10 minutes.

"Yeah everyone felt so bad for you, but hey, if you’ll be daydreaming at least look at the front instead of the window next time, it might help you" Rob said while opening a bottle of apple juice, his favorite, he wouldn't drink any other thing, he was probably 60% apple juice after years of drinking it that often.

A few minutes passed by, the three friends chatting about the day's events, their plans for the weekend, and how to get the next assignment done. A figure appeared behind you putting a hand on your shoulders.

"Well hello ladies!" A man chirped, you turned around laughing softly

"Hey yourself!" you replied "Already off?"

"Yeah I've got the last hour free so I'm gonna head out to Kris' place, we'll play some games and work on that big project I told you the other day"

"Great, have fun! You say hi to Kris from me yeah?"

"Sure thing, see you later!" He says with a squeeze of his hand on your shoulder, then a quick pat on the head, turning around to leave.

"Bye, take care Nick!" you say as the man walks out of the cafeteria's door waving a hand.

Silence lingers for a bit until Itai breaks it

"Hey so, you're still going out with him?" He says with a crooked smile and a nervous look, Rob has a similar expression

"Yeeeah... it's been okay for some time now, you know? Hah" You look down for a second, pondering "Maybe this time is the good run?" Uncertainty fills the question, but you still smile to your friends.

Nikolas wasn't the model boyfriend, at least not for your friends; he was full of sweet words, hugs and kisses, only in private places though. When it came to the campus he treated you just like any other friend.

There was a small reason, according to him, he wanted to wait a bit more to make it public, get to know each other better, just to be certain from both sides.

That was the excuse a year ago.

It wasn't like he was out and flirting with other people, not at all, but one could expect to be treated like a love partner after so much time and moments together, you’ve gone to the movies, to dinner, to each other's houses, hell your families knew you two were dating, it just wasn't more than the bare minimum from him, seemed more like a thing someone does if they have free time, not make time for that thing, the thing being the relationship.

It seemed to be only a problem of neglect and apathy, probably, though you were so dumbly in love with him at first, you have been hoping and asking for a change since the relationship escalated to more than just holding hands and light kisses.

"I don't think anything's gonna change, he's been stalling for a whole year now" Itai mumbled, looking at Rob, he nodded in agreement

"Yeah, just dump him already, you deserve way better, you give him everything you got and he just throws the leftovers at you."

"I guess, but we're going out this weekend! You know he doesn't like going out often"

"With you" Rob adds

You hesitate a reply, it was true, most of the times you asked him to go out for a change, he was either too busy or decided to change the event the same day, turning it into a make out session in his house every time. Even though you saw each other 2 days every week, you have seen him go out with his friends more often, on actual enrichment outside activities.

"I know..." you sigh " I'll think about it, I'll try to talk with him about it next time”

Both of your friends let out a small groan of annoyance, they knew you weren't gonna do it, or that he'll just brush it off as always, between the lines of 'oh you're overreacting'

"Ah my ride's here!" You got up from the table and grabbed your backpack, tossing it over one shoulder.

"See he can't even give you a lift to your place!" Itai teased, they knew how you felt about the whole situation, but joking around sometimes made it a bit less bitter.

"Ha-ha, you know we live in opposite ends of the city! Besides none of you give me a ride either" you said while sticking a tongue out on your way outside the cafeteria

"Yeah because you live at the ends of the earth for some weird reason!" Rob joked back

Everyone said their quick goodbyes, and after a calm ride back home you remembered something just as you were locking the door, tossing your backpack into the living room’s couch you walked over to your room.

You flopped onto the bed, looking at your phone you opened some pending messages on the family group chat, apparently a distant relative of yours had died, and the family was gonna hold a small funeral tomorrow morning on the local cemetery, you didn’t enjoy those kind of events since you’d get really emotional, but since it was something really small, no more than 20 people, it was private and most likely no strangers would see you cry over someone you barely knew.

Tomorrow was saturday so it was okay to spend one free morning humoring your family.

After some mindless browsing on your phone, it was already 12:30am, you haven’t even got off your sneakers since you got home, you did a quick self-cleanup in the bathroom, tossing today’s clothes to the side to change into an oversized shirt with no pants as a makeup pijamas, it got a bit warmer in the afternoon so you wanted to enjoy wearing something light before winter fully arrived, getting under the sheets and you were out fast, maybe from all the overthinking of what’d tomorrow might bring, you’ve forgotten what are funerals like.

But there was certainly no way you’d know what would happen at all the next day

...

The event was simple, thankfully there was not much crying, seemed like everyone accepted already what had happened, some kind of illness you heard, at least they weren’t suffering anymore and they’ve come to terms with everyone close to them, that was nice you thought, it sure felt a bit heavy in there, as usual for funerals. After the ceremony, the family offered a barbeque in the departed’s honor to bright up the mood a bit; right at the cementery, maybe it was cheaper than renting a place for it.

Free tasty food was something only an idiot would decline, so you spent some time doing small talk with the relatives you knew best, but still you mostly just listened and ate in silence.

You saw a glimpse of color and movement out of the corner of your eye, since everyone was wearing dark tones it stood out, turning your head there was just an empty plastic table with some half-full plates and glasses, still, you felt a shiver up your spine, it was probably the weather.

When you looked back at your phone's clock it was already 6 pm, guess dad jokes and food made time fly, you said your goodbyes and condolences to everyone and headed out, you were still at the cemetery, so you had to call a ride back home, the driver dropped you near a convenience store just around the corner of your apartment, since you needed to buy a snack for dinner, on sundays you usually had takeout, so no need to worry much about it right now.

_______________________________________________________

“I know I didn’t imagine anything, that breather saw me at the cemetery! we even locked eyes for a second! It may work this time, just gotta get closer while they're alone”

_______________________________________________________

…

Walking down the street, humming a bit to some music and a bag of snacks in hand, dusk started to set, some stars could be seen and the sky was a beautiful fuchsia tone with oranges and purples mixed in the clouds. On instinct, you took your phone out of your jeans pocket to take a picture of the cute sky.

Just as you took a couple of pictures, to make sure at least one was good to share, something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye again

You felt a shiver like a cold wind out of nowhere, similar as to when a car drives a bit too close to someone on winter, but there was not even one driving car on the street.

"Oof, should get back now, it's getting colder" picking up the peace to get home faster-

A piece of paper slapped you in the face

“EW- wind trash” you muttered while grabbing what seemed to be a flyer, and it flew indeed.

You naturally took a closer look at it when you took it into your hands and out of your face, it was a very faded print, with an image of an… insect? man? holding a hammer over a small house and people, you chuckled, it was a funny irony cartoon, a bug crushing people.

Half of the flyer was unreadable because of some liquid or dirt, already dry but you couldn’t read what was supposed to be, written under the drawing was the end of an ad;

“Ghostly services one name away!

RESIDENTIAL - INDUSTRIAL - COMMERCIAL

Call BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE!”

“Betelgeuse? ...Like that one star?” There was that shiver again, Halloween was a week ago, so this kind of paper seemed normal to be hanging around with the wind.

As you walked down the street, some lights started flickering, the cold wind seemed stronger and the sky was a deep dark purple now, strange, it was supposed to be clear dark blue by now, fall nights came quickly this time of the year, still it didn't feel like the usual night. You were just around the corner of your street when the closest light bulb exploded and zapped with a loud 'CRASH', making you stop for a second cowering from the shards

"What the-!? No one told me we'd be getting winter thunderstorms sooner what the eff" muttering swears you made a run to your apartment, scurrying for the door keys in the process, lights kept flashing and the wind made windows sing a high 'oooo' noise, you have seen this kind of weather before but no one would like to be outside when it happened, nervously and quickly you finally fit the key in the lock and opened the door, hurrying inside and closing it behind, a loud bang thundered through the silent room, the unexpected storm slamming against the walls and windows, you left the lights on before going out.

After a minute it seemed to calm down, wind turning into a breeze and the sky now it's usual black, no stars in the sky.

You let out a sigh and walked to the counter to drop your keys, the phone and your purse, you had to make sure all the windows were closed for the night, luckily it was Saturday, so no need to go out tomorrow on that crazy weather.

Windows secured, you changed into your winter pajamas, a gray pair of pants with a pattern of a cat on toast and eggs, with a pastel blue loose shirt. Making your way to the kitchen you decided a light snack would be enough for tonight, after that run and emotion on the way back home you had no energy to cook a proper dinner, not even microwave, it was also too late for it anyways you thought.

You put the snack bowl and a cup of water on the kitchen counter, looking to grab your phone. You noticed you still had the dirty flyer, forgot to drop it between the commotion maybe?

Placing it aside and unlocking your phone screen, you opened the ‘best friend's’ chat group

You. 'Hey guys, did you get any of that weird winter storm action today after school?'

Rob. 'Nah, it was a clear sky for me'

Itai. 'Same, also I was asleep all afternoon'

You. 'Strange, I got caught on this whirlwind on my way back home from the store, just my luck I guess >:('

Both of the boys. 'Lol yea'

Putting the phone down and chomping on some of the snacks, you thought about the events, it was indeed a clear sky earlier, only a couple of common clouds you took pictures of before it. You grabbed the phone again, quickly to see if any of the photos looked good.

"Pleasepleaseplease" you muttered in excitement, it was a very cute view, hopefully one picture captured it nicely.

And they did, a couple looked stunning, you smiled, thinking at least it was worth getting your hair all messed up by the wind, you were about to delete one picture it since it was blurry when you noticed a different kind of blur, it was gray with splashes of green in the corner, similar to what you saw at the funeral.

"There was nothing green on the other pictures, was it?" you looked through the other photos and they were pretty normal, full of pink, purple and blue from the sunset.

You looked back at the flyer

"Betelgeuse, betelgeuse, betelgeuse huh" You said in a playful tone, grabbing the torn paper from the counter, you felt a shiver, a strong one this time, well that was the opposite of a calming experience, but still the word felt strange when you said it, it wasn't like you hadn't said before, Orion was a popular constellation, and the Betelgeuse star was on it; but this time the air inside had a tense feeling.

All the lights went off after a second "Now a blackout? What's with today ugh" picking up your phone to use as a flashlight, after a couple of seconds before you could turn it on, all the lights came back again, but you almost had a heart attack when you saw someone standing in the center of the living room, enveloped in a green mist.

"FUCK wh- WHO THE FUCK-" you stuttered before turning around and grabbing the closest thing to use as a weapon, a wooden spoon used for beating eggs this morning "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT!"

The figure was a man, taller than you, dressed in a striped black and white suit, dark hair with green tints at the end, a wicked smile plastered on his face, he took a look around, then back to you, endless chills went down your spine when you met his eyes, you could feel the tense aura from before growing stronger, anticipating, colder.

"Well who might I be? You should know, you called my name baby! Glad to make some business with you tonight!" He said as he extended a hand and walked, floated? quickly towards a paralized you, frozen in place, you only managed to put the spoon up in self defense from whomever this man could be, the lights were out for just a few seconds, was he inside the apartment all this time?

"S-stop right there you!" tried to threaten the man with the wooden tool, he didn't seem to notice nor care, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, then placing a sloppy kiss in your face, petrified, you shivered and gripped the spoon harder, he felt oddly cold.

...Did he just kiss you? Who does he think he is??

"No no, no stopping now! We just got started cakes, and now that you said my name three times, I can finally interact with you and everything here in the world of the living! Gotta say thanks it's been real boring being invisible for so long lemme tell ya-"

*WHACK*

You hit the man in the head with the wooden spoon as hard as you could.

...the spoon broke.

The man's smile grew wider

#hope it's o k a y #I'll reblob this tomorrow with tags it's 2am help me #fanfic #fanfiction #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #musical beetlejuice #draft #female reader #could be both Blum or Alex I love them both sm #or any other that u seem fit #I need a name for this jhfdsdfj #is 'whack' the correct sound?#sorry for the cliff #might edit later

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

AGA: Word to the Wise

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Denny AU Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Benny Lafitte, past Dean/Jo

Other characters: Sam, Bobby, Cas, Mick, Ash, Jo

Word Count: 3000 (whoa)

A/N: Sam gets on Dean’s nerves and Dean ends up taking a late night detour. Big talks ahead.

Special thanks to my beta @cracksinthewalls who puts up with my whiny ass. Also grateful for @there-must-be-a-lock‘s insight.

The bowling league was in lean attendance due to a surprise snowstorm, but that didn’t keep Singers’ Slingers from mopping the floor with their competition. Dean ended on a spare in the last game, putting him just over his average for the night. State bowling wasn’t until spring, but if they kept up their momentum Dean was sure they could place well. And a weekend away would be a welcome break from his usual exhaustion.

Dean still owed Mick a rematch from last year’s trip. Mick drank him under the table and Dean didn’t want to lose two years running, he had a reputation to uphold afterall. Bartending had cut into his training time, among other things.

Ash was the first one to bow out for the night, knowing his side towing business would be busy with vehicles in ditches for however long the storm lasted. Cas bummed a ride with Mick, since his car had never done well in this weather and he was still dragging his feet on upgrading. Dean knew he had been hinting at shopping around, but Dean wasn’t going to push the topic and get dragged into helping or finagling with the salesman for the guy. Cas could figure it out on his own, and Dean was finally in a place where he felt comfortable letting him. Huh.

Sam had been quiet all night, but Dean hadn’t mentioned it, attributing the sour mood to post-break up blues. They bought Bobby his weekly drink, “team dues” as he called it and settled in along the bar.

Dean kept the conversation going, trying to keep the mood light, but Bobby was too tired to ham it up and Sam was not amused by his brother’s antics. Once Bobby polished off his last beer and headed home to Ellen, Dean was rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, you know what, I’ll reel it in, don’t want to interrupt your sulking,” Dean muttered after another joke fell flat. Sam winced at Dean’s jab, which Dean instantly regretted. Though it did seem to shake Sam out of his funk, if minutely.

“So, tell me about Benny,” Sam brought up with elephantine grace.

Dean stared at Sam like he proclaimed he was quitting the law firm and joining the circus, coulrophobia and all.

Sam huffed. “What?”

“Nice segue there, counselor,” Dean grumbled. “What about him? Hmm, you want a new bowling bag? Because that was already on my list for you for Christmas.”

“Dude, you don’t have to do that. I mean, that’d be great, but no, I was kind of wondering what your deal was? Like do you hang out a lot?” Sam started fishing.

“Yeah, totally, everynight,” Dean deadpanned. “I mean I only work two jobs when I’m not moving your sorry ass back into Mom and Dad’s.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sam said, waiting to figure out where he was going with this line of questioning and just shot in the dark.

“What I’m trying to say is, is this, like, a Cas thing?” Sam choked out, unable to put it any more delicately.

Dean burned with shame as his hackles raised in defensiveness. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sam cocked his head and pursed his lips, unamused and unimpressed. “You know what I mean, man. Don’t make me spell it out.”

Dean wouldn’t budge, he dropped his beer with a thud. “Well, you’re gonna have to, because I have no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dude!” Sam shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“The fuck is your problem? You got something to say, just say it, Sam.” Dean fumed, daring him with a murderous glare. Sam inhaled pregnantly, face still inching towards bitch mode. Sam eyed the bartender who was trying not to listen and the late game bowlers who suddenly decided they could catch up lane side instead.

What Dean didn’t realize was that he needed Sam to say it. He yearned for it, for his truth to be spoken, and known without him having to say it himself.

“Look, I know this isn’t something we talk about. But, I just want to make sure you’re okay. Alright? In the beginning with Cas, it was like you were obsessed, man. And since he just always seemed to need something from you. I just want to make sure you’re not getting used, I guess,” Sam unraveled the heart of his concern without saying too much, which Dean was not expecting, at all.

Dumbfounded, Dean retreated, annoyance trumping any chance at relief.

“I think I can handle myself, thanks,” Dean spat. Petulantly, he took a sip from his beer, the cold glass solid in his hand, giving him something to clutch or even throw, if it came down to it.

“I didn’t say---,” Sam broke off. “Fine! You know what? You’re on your own. Just remember that I should have listened to you about Ruby and now I’m paying the price for my own stubbornness.”

Sam stood and reached for his money clip, tossing an extra five on the bar for the dramatics. He gave Dean one last chance to come clean, to own up to what they weren’t saying. Dean stared straight ahead, eyes unfocusing on the liquor labels behind the bar as if Sam had already left. So he did, just as he came: pissed and questioning his brother’s motives.

Dean didn’t go home after that. Instead he absently followed a plow down the main road until he happened upon a familiar turn off. Which he took slow and steady until it ended in a T. The little brick ranch at the end of the lane held a lot of memories. And it was more inviting than ever with its Christmas card perfection in the falling snow. Dean put the Impala in park and let the radio play, wishing he had a joint just for the sake of something to do.

He wasn’t there ten minutes before his phone rang, which he answered without processing the caller ID.

“You gonna come in or you just gonna sit out there feeling sorry for yourself?” Jo’s voice sliced across the line.

“Didn’t know if you were still up,” Dean bullshitted.

“Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Backdoor’s open,” her unimpressed reply. She hung up before Dean could make up an excuse to leave. He slouched out of the car and trudged down the long country driveway. As soon as he had stomped the snow off his boots, Jo welcomed him in with a firm hug and an appraising glint in her eye.

“Thanks, it’s a real mess out there,” Dean explained.

Jo just shook her head at him. “How’d ya bowl?”

“619 series, finished strong in the last few frames,” Dean answered. “Were you at your folks?”

“Nah, just know it’s Wednesday night, which means the boys were at the alley,” Jo smirked as she reached atop her fridge for the good stuff.

She held up the whiskey in offering and Dean nodded, bending out of his coat. He slipped it over the back of a chair and settled in at the vintage kitchen table. She poured him a glass and watched as he inhaled the first round like he had been outside for hours and needed to fight off a much deeper chill.

“Well alright,” Jo resigned herself to playing shrink and poured Dean another drink. “So, what’s got you stuck in your head, hm?”

Dean weighed his head from side to side as he let the whiskey roll over his tongue. He never got far into a pouting session when Jo was around, but he also didn’t know which chamber of his heart he could stand to prop open for her inspection tonight.

“How’ve you been, Jo? You still schooling those truckers on taking care of their own rigs?” Dean sidestepped with ease.

“You know it,” Jo confirmed. “Not a day goes by that I don’t have to put another asshole in his place. Pays good, though.”

Jo had followed in Bobby’s footsteps and became a mechanic, but two Singers were already one too many for the shop and salvage yard. So she took her skills out to the interstate and made a name for herself as the only female diesel technician in four counties. Dean used to hate it when she would fix something faster than him, but it had been more than a decade since her skills had made him feel inferior. Dean knew Jo’d be his boss someday, but he wasn’t too worried about those far off futures; Bobby wouldn’t retire unless Ellen made him or killed him first.

“How’s Rufus holding up?” Jo teased, knowing her dad’s old friend was getting worse for the wear, much like John had.

“Stubborn, and as glib as ever. Good thing your dad rehired him, because he’s a bit too mouthy for most customers,” Dean admitted.

Jo hummed with nostalgia. “I gotta swing by and bug you guys sometime, but it just keeps getting busier.”

Dean sighed. “I hear that. What’s it been? Labor day? No. I haven’t even seen you since the Fourth. Christ!”

“Yeah, well, you’ll see me next week for Thanksgiving, don’t get too sentimental about it now,” Jo quipped. She took a short sip off the bottle as Dean swirled the last of his second helping.

“I’m seeing someone,” Dean staggered the words, like he wasn’t sure if their meanings and sounds fit together.

Jo sighed dramatically, “Finally, the truth is revealed! What’s up? She’s not pregnant, is she?”

“No.” Dean had to bite back his guffaw. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, then why the sad face? Not pulling a Ruby on ya, I hope?” Jo tested the waters.

“No, it’s--uh--- it’s been good. Really good. I just, kind of need to make up my mind if I’m in it for the long haul. Ya know?” Dean clarified, relaxing with each little confession.

“Uh-oh it’s getting serious,” Jo mock whispered.

Dean rolled his shoulders. “No, well, it could be. I don’t know.”

Jo giggled. “I can’t believe you! You’re fucking twitterpated, aren’t you?!”

“Jo, if you start making Thumper jokes, I’m shutting up right now,” Dean warned with a pointed finger. “Care to top me off while you’re at it?”

“Okay, okay, gosh.” Jo rolled her eyes dramatically as she poured him another drink before pointedly putting it back on the fridge. “But you’re in deep. You’re all blushy about it.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m ready to go big. It just means they’re willing to put up with me until I say the word,” Dean tried to downplay his feelings and Benny’s confession.

“So do it! Bust out the grand gestures already,” Jo encouraged.

Dean scoffed, “I’m not built for commitment, you know that!”

“Except you kinda are! You’ve changed, Dean,” Jo insisted, head hung to pour her honesty from her eyes. “I don’t know when it happened, but you’re not that reckless boy that I knew. You’ve always been a good guy, but now?---- Maybe it’s been since Sam came home, I don’t know. But somewhere along the way you grew up.---- It’s okay to let yourself want something more, you know.”

Dean grumbled and rolled his neck, breaking the eye contact. She always could do this to him, just like her mother, see straight through his every defense. “I always thought it’d be you, you know?”

Jo smiled without teeth. “Firsts can do that to people. But, we’re not those kids anymore, Dean. So, if you’re asking for my permission or seeking my approval---?”

Dean dropped his head to his hands, thick fingers poorly hiding him from Jo. “It’s a guy, Jo. I’m--- I don’t know--- Bi? I guess?”

“Dean?” Jo waited until he stopped being sheepish and looked at her, even if it was only out of the corner of one eye. “You’ve been head over heels for Cas for years. If you dare tell me this is about him, so help me, I will throw you out right now.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh ruefully at that and toss back what was left of his whiskey. “You saw that, huh?”

She didn’t answer, waiting for him to work through it on his own.

“It’s not Cas.” Dean smacked his lips and held up his glass for a refill. Jo stood and brought the bottle back to the table. Dean poured himself three fingers worth and pondered the sloshing liquid before he continued. “Your mom know?”

Jo licked her lips, cocked her head, and sighed.

Dean closed his eyes and asked, “Bobby? Fuck!--- my mom?!”

“No one has ever said it out loud, Dean. I don’t know who knows, honestly. But we’re family, that doesn’t change.” Jo grasped his wrist firmly, he held her hand to his and then she slapped her other one on top. Time stopped long enough for Dean to accept that his secret was finally out, but also that it was safe.

“I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you, of all people.” Dean thumbed her knuckles, staring into eyes he knew as well as his own.

“Really? Who else would you be talking to about it? Sam? Ash, maybe?” Jo giggled. “I’m honored, actually. It means you stopped hating me.”

Dean pulled his hands away and took another drink. “I never hated you.”

“Okay, well, maybe it means you stopped hating yourself,” Jo corrected.

Dean’s brows crooked incredulously.

“Too much?” Jo asked apologetically.

Dean shook his head and sighed. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

“Now you’re the one being rude,” Jo muttered before taking a solid drink off the bottle this time.

Dean let himself relax, let the whiskey and conversation work into his muscles and set his worries aside. They talked like the old days and about the old days. Those in between years after high school and before anyone was ready to face responsibility. When half their friends went to college, they had just kept on working. After another hour, Jo leaned back in her chair and started scrutinizing him once again.

“You know how I know you’re happy with what’s his name?” Jo teased.

“Beh--- I didn’t tell you, fuck! Benny, his name is Benny. Goddamnit Joanna Beth,” Dean cursed through a chuckle; more details dragged out of him than he had planned on.

Jo cocked her head and considered the name.“Benny, right. You wanna know how I know?” Jo pushed.

“Fine, how?” Dean held up his hand, beckoning for her to hit him with her response.

“Because this is about the time of night you start giving me the lazy once over. But not tonight,” Jo proclaimed, chin out condescendingly. She had him, every few years they’d find themselves back in each other’s beds, for a night or a weekend and then they’d move on. He always thought of her as his home, his starting point. But maybe they weren’t the same thing at all.

“You still look good, Jo,” Dean replied, trying to save face.

“That’s not what I meant, Dean. Besides, I know!” Jo snarked, straightening her spine and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Dean couldn’t hold in his laughter anymore and it spilled out over a toothy grin, making Jo almost choke on her drink. God, Dean felt like anything was possible. That life was good.

After the hysterics had calmed down, Dean exhaled. “Thanks, Jo. I needed this.”

“You sure did, nobody else was gonna hand you your ass so kindly,” Jo agreed, standing and taking the bottle and Dean’s glass with her to the counter that held the sink. He whined comically, but knew her timing was right. She leaned back and smirked.

Dean grew quiet and Jo waited to see if it was exhaustion, the alcohol or something else. She didn’t have long to prepare.

“How’m I gonna tell my dad?” Dean asked, the pain and panic pulling at his face until she saw the telltale tears well up.

“Fuck ‘im. I mean it, if your dad can’t get his head out of his ass to see how happy you are, he isn’t worth your time,” Jo said adamantly.

Dean let his thoughts roll to the side of his head and licked his lips, biting against the tremor. He quickly wiped away the tears that escaped and inhaled wet and ragged. Jo slipped to his side and ran her hand through his hair, letting his face fall against her chest as he breathed through the onslaught. Dean couldn’t help but think how motherly the affection felt.

She pulled back to look him over at arms’ length.

“So what now? You want the couch? Or should I call you a ride? I’m sure Sam owes you one,” Jo asked, as no nonsense as ever.

“I’ll be fine,” Dean dismissed her concern, rubbing up his face to wipe off his nose.

“Well, you ain't driving.” Jo held up his keys. Dean blanched, feeling his pockets for them, fruitlessly. He stood to snatch them, but she had already skipped across the kitchen, too far to catch. “Nuh-uh, no way I’m letting you risk your baby. Or your thick skull in this weather.”

Dean put his hands on his hips, and blinked through the dizziness. He realized he hadn’t stood in a few hours. “Sam.”

“What’s that?” Jo prodded mischievously, ear leaning in as if she couldn’t hear him.

“Very funny. Call Sam, will ya?” Dean rolled his eyes as she scrolled through her contacts, murmuring the names under her breath. His keys were raised in victory, as if he couldn’t reach them above her head. He could have snagged them in an instant, if he wanted to.

While Jo woke Sam, Dean checked his own phone. Ignoring some texts from his mom and Cas, he selected the conversation with Benny. There were no new messages since that morning. Dean hesitated before relocking his screen.

“Sam’ll be here in twenty. You want something to eat? I’ve got chips.” Jo offered, opening the cupboard.

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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Part 10: Spit it Out

#A Gentlemen's Agreement #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #dean/benny #dean x benny #bi!dean #coming out #aga: word to the wise #dean winchester/benny lafitte #dean/jo #sam's trying he really is #stubborn dean

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yungidreamer · 4 years

Text

Summer Camp

Prequel to Party Break

7.2k words

Sometimes you find the right people in unexpected places.

Content warnings: Not a lot, mostly fluff, a little angst, some kissing, brief discussion about sexuality and homophobia. Summer love can sometimes last a lifetime.

pairing (trio-ing really, lol): Yunho, Mingi, unnamed female character (but now nicknamed)

“Are you excited for camp, sweetheart?” Her mother asked from the front seat of the car.

“Yeah I guess,” She shrugged, tucking the bookmark she had been holding into her book and letting it close.

“You’ll have fun,” Her father said from behind the wheel of the car. “Enjoy this time, it’s going to be one of the last free summers you’ll probably have. Summer camps were one of the best parts of my childhood. You don’t have many years like this left.”

“Jeez, you make it sound like she is on a slow walk to death, honey,” her mother chuckled. “She’s 18 and going into her senior year, it’s not like she is walking up to the wall in front of a firing squad.”

“I just wish I had known to appreciate this sort of stuff when I was her age,” he shrugged and patted his wife’s leg.

“She’s smart honey,” she assured him. “Probably smarter than either of us were at her age. Just let her enjoy it how she wants.” Her father grunted, quietly admitting she was right.

“You are sure you have everything?” Yunho’s mother asked, hugging him for the fifth time since she had begun helping him move his things into the cabin he would be staying in for the next week.

“Yes, mama,” replied patiently, unpacking a few things from his bag as he did.

“But you’ll call me if you need something, promise?” She fretted, looking down at her only son. How had he grown up so fast, she wondered to herself.

“I’ll call you even if I don’t,” he promised, standing up and giving her a hug.

“Did you find your bug spray?” She asked as she pulled back.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“And your sunscreen?” She followed up. “There is enough?”

“Yes, mama,” he laughed, she wouldn’t be herself if she wasn’t worrying about him.

“Okay, okay,” She looked around and gave a sigh. “Don’t forget to have fun, too.”

“I will,” he promised, putting a hand on her shoulder and giving her a reassuring smile.

“So this is where you’ll be staying?” Mingi’s father observed, coming into the wooden cabin where his son was busy messily pulling out his things into his designated drawers.

“Yeah, it seems alright,” he shrugged.

“Be sure to check your shoes before you put them on in the morning,” his mother warned from behind his father, poking her head into the space she could only call primitive. “Where is the bathroom anyway?”

“Uhh, a building or two over I think,” Mingi replied, not looking up from what he was doing.

“You’ll be fine here?” She questioned, glancing at the other bunks in the room. “You will try to be careful; you won’t do something stupid just because someone asks you to, right?”

“Right, yeah, I’ll do my best not to do something really stupid at least,” He looked up at his mom with a wide grin. She knew him well.

“Have fun,” his father instructed, putting an arm around his wife. “This is supposed to be fun, after all.”

“Of course,” he promised, leaning in to give his mom a hug, then his father. “I’ll have fun and try not to be too stupid, at least.”

“Okay can I get the people in Arcadia cabin and Grand Teton cabin here with me!” A very cheery camp counselor who looked like he belonged on a beach catching waves. He was a blond, tan twenty something with blue eyes that sparkled with an undimmed joy in life. Yunho stepped forward, looking around to see five others move forward, coming to stand with him in front of the man.

“Okay so we need to break into pairs for this so let’s start with that,” he scanned the faces of the six boys who had gathered around him. “Let's start with names as I pick you out. So, uh, you?”

“Mingi,” the gangly, tall boy, dressed in jeans and an old looking black t-shirt answered.

“Great, and you?” He turned on Yunho.

“I’m Yunho,” he answered, slightly more timidly than the other boy had.

“Awesome, cool name,” the surfer man complimented with a grin. “You two can be a pair today. Why don’t you go ahead and go to the dock to grab a canoe and your life vests.” Yunho nodded and moved closer to the other boy, following him down the short path to the wooden dock that stretched out onto the lake.

“So Yunho, have you done this before?” Mingi asked, passing him a life vest.

“No,” Yunho admitted, slipping it on over his head.

“Me neither but it can’t be that hard.” Mingi declared, looking at the old canoe.

“I guess we’ll see,” Yunho gave him an amused smile. A group of girls joined them on the dock, chatting and giggling amongst themselves. Mingi straightened up and put a smile on his face, looking at all of them and watching as they milled around, preparing to canoe themselves. Yunho, on the other hand, took half a step back and crossed his arms, seemingly trying to shrink back into himself. The girls, for their part, mostly ignored them, being perfectly happy with the lighthearted conversation they had going between them.

“Okay guys, let’s get in.” Surfer dude said joining them with the last pair of boys from the cabins. “You guys can have the one there, I’ll just hold it while you step in.” He drew near and knelt on the deck, holding one end of the craft and gestured for them to step in. “Both at the same time, get low and put one leg in…then shift your weight over to the center…” Both boys knelt down and stuck out one foot into the center of the boat, reaching to the sides to try and steady themselves. “Good, yeah, hold onto the sides and sort of sliiiiiiide yourself in now.” The boys did, managing to plop themselves in with only a brief moment of seeming like they might capsize. “Good, okay, here, see if you can’t get to the dock you can see over there and back first.”

He handed them each an oar and walked over to the next group to help them in their own canoe. The two boys looked at the oars and at a pair of the girls who were already underway, rowing with each of them taking one side.

“Do you want the right or the left?” Yunho asked from the back.

“Uh, right I guess,” Mingi decided, sticking his oar out that side.

“Sure,” Yunho gladly put his out into the water on the opposite side. “On three?”

“Okay, I’ll count,” Mingi agreed. With only a few moments of complete chaos that threatened to have them veer off in the completely wrong direction or tip over, they did, in fact, manage to make it to the other dock and back before disaster struck.

On the final leg of the journey, the counselor decided to take the group on a little trip around the edge of the lake for the practice and to get to the dining hall where they would be having lunch in half an hour. Everyone, having had at least some practice, was able to keep pace with the counselor as he led the way near the shore. Yunho and Mingi were somewhere near the middle, mostly focused on not hitting any of the other crafts with their oars as they moved. The shore was lined with waving patches of reeds that unfortunately happened to be home to a couple of skittish ducks who decided to flee just when Mingi and Yunho were passing. Mingi, for all his pretenses of confidence, immediately shrieked and flung himself in the opposite direction from the kerfuffle, which unfortunately resulted in him tipping over their canoe and the one nearest them. Splashes and screeches ensued, with the occupants of both canoes now being left bobbing in the water, sputtering and struggling to get themselves righted next to their overturned boats.

“Okay everyone, keep going, I’m gonna take care of our friends here who have had a little accident,” the surfer counselor said over the din. The rest of the campers headed off, leaving him and the four in the water to sort out the mess.

“You moron!” One of the girls yelled, trying to push her long dark hair out of her face as she bobbed up and down.

“Okay if you can swim I want you to head for that little clearing on the shore a few meters back,” the counselor said as he righted the first of the boats with miraculous skill that did it without letting it take on much water. “It might take me a bit to get these boats back but you guys need to get back to your cabins and get changed for lunch. Take a quick shower to get clean and bring your wet clothes with you so I can get them washed for you in the machines for the counselors.”

“I can get one to shore if that would be helpful,” the second girl in the water offered, floating calmly by the second, still overturned canoe.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks Chipmunk, you’re the best,” he said with a big grin, heading to her to turn over the second one.

“No problem, Chase,” she rolled her eyes. “Just don’t forget to mention to dad that I was a ‘team player.’”

“For sure,” he laughed. “I’ll tell him you were awesome in person when he comes to pick you up at the end of the week.”

“Uh huh,” she shook her head and grabbed a rope attached to one end of the boat and started towing it back to the shore as she headed there herself. Both Yunho and Mingi headed towards her, feeling dumb for not having thought to offer themselves.

“Can I help or something?” Yunho offered, swimming up beside her as she slowly made her way towards the gap at the shore.

“I’m fine, it’ll just take a little longer,” she gave him a bland and reassuring smile without taking a break in her slow backwards crawl through the water.

“I’m sorry for, you know,” he apologized, despite not having been the one to cause the tip over.

“It’s fine,” She chuckled. “Just made the day a little more exciting. But, uh, I’d avoid talking to Luci for a day or two.”

“Luci, that’s the other girl in your boat?” He asked, vaguely looking at her figure as she continued to storm off to the girls cabins.

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “She’s staying in my cabin and she doesn’t seem like the most forgiving of people.”

“I guess,” Yunho said sheepishly.

“I’ll help you pull it ashore,” Mingi offered, now only knee deep in the water at the gap. The girl didn’t argue, changing position and pulling the boat as she walked in the water, now that it was shallow enough. They pulled it up onto the bank until it was almost completely out of the water.

“Thanks,” the girl said, taking a moment to pull off her drenched shoes and tossing her life vest into the canoe.

“I wasn’t scared, you know,” Mingi protested unprompted, tossing his own in after.

“Yeah, of course,” she gave him a grin and patted his arm before starting off barefoot through the grass.

“Hey, how do you know the counselor and why did he call you Chipmunk?” Yunho shouted after her.

“I used to have really chubby cheeks when he babysat me.” She shouted over her shoulder with a good natured laugh without interrupting her pace. Yunho’s mouth quirked into a half smile as he watched her walk away.

“I really wasn’t scared,” Mingi insisted, falling into pace alongside Yunho as he headed towards the area where their cabins were. When Yunho only responded with a sound of bland acknowledgement, he continued, “I was just a little surprised.”

“Well you certainly scared me,” Yunho chortled and shook his head.

“Sorry,” Mingi gave him a chastened smile.

Mingi and Yunho were the only ones left in the cafeteria when she finally managed to get there. They were seated at one of the tables dressed in new dry clothes with messy damp hair. Chase was standing nearby chatting up one of the girls working in the kitchen. She made her way there first, handing him the damp sack that held both her and Laci’s dirty clothes.

“Laci decided she wanted to take a nap and had some snacks she had brought with her,” she informed him, handing it all over. “She’s in a shitty mood anyway, so it's probably for the best.”

“Do I need to send someone to check on her?” He asked half heartedly, only tearing his eyes away from the 20-something girl in the kitchen for a second.

“Maybe in an hour or like before dinner,” she shrugged.

“Okay, cool, thanks Chipmunk,” he flashed her a smile before turning back to chat with the other girl again. Rolling her eyes, she turned to get herself a plate and fill it with what was left of the lunch food. The food looked decent, if a little institutional, but it was at the very least plentiful. She piled a sandwich, some chips, and a bit of fruit salad on her plate, grabbed a can of soda, and went to sit with the two boys at the table. They both looked up as she sat down, straightening up in their seats as she did.

“Hi,” Yunho greeted, giving her a welcoming smile and nod.

“Is the food any good?” She asked, popping open the can of soda.

“It’s okay,” Mingi replied. “The ham sandwich was better than the tuna, though. That one was too soggy.”

“Good thing I got this one then,” she unwrapped her sandwich, flashing a little of the meat in between the pieces of bread.

“Good choice,” Yunho agreed with an approving grin.

“Uh, is Laci okay?” Mingi asked with a slight timidity, maybe with a tinge of regret.

“She’s not happy but she’ll be fine I think,” her tone was assuring and kind as she spoke between bites of her food. “Don’t worry though, I think she will get over it eventually.”

“I’m glad you are okay at least,” Mingi added, looking at his food as he spoke.

“Yeah,” Yunho agreed, offering her a soft smile. A shiver of happiness skated over her skin at the slight movement of his cupid bow lips. For the first time she actually bothered to look at both the boys at the table. They were both cute if a little awkward, like most guys her age. Yunho was tall and a little gangly, but had the promise of broad shoulders that would probably fill in over the next few years. His hair was a chocolate brown and a messy sort of cut that let the fringe in the front hang almost in his eyes. His dark eyes sparkled, set pleasantly into a heart shaped face. There was something intelligent and curious in his look, but it was well hidden behind his quiet façade. He was...interesting.

The boy across from him was stretched out and gangly, but in a way that would grow into a leanness in a few years. His hair was messy and a little too long, brushing the tops of his ears and past his eyebrows. Though he had behaved and spoken with a veneer of confidence, behind his dark eyes was a nervousness and perhaps a shade of confusion. His face was longer though his chin was just a little more blunt. As he sat looking back at her questioning face, his full, plush lips pressed into a line, obscuring their pleasant shape.

They were interesting individually but as a pair they were a perfect matching contrast. One with a quiet and shy confidence that was easy to miss and the other with a loud shell of confidence they used to hide a curious confusion with the world.

“So are you two friends?” She asked, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Uh not really,” Mingi replied, his eyes flicking over to the other boy to read his reaction as he spoke. “I mean, we just met when we were assigned to pair up.”

“Right, of course,” she bobbed her head. “Is this your first time here at the camp?”

“Yeah,” both boys replied simultaneously, smiling at each other in their synchronicity.

“What about you?” Yunho asked once the moment had passed.

“No, I’ve been coming for a while,” she shook her head. “My dad used to come to this camp when he was a kid so it's somehow like a family tradition to spend part of the summer here.”

“So that’s why you knew about how to canoe and stuff?” Mingi questioned further, shifting in his seat to face her more fully.

“I mean it’s one of the reasons,” she shrugged.

“Do you like doing outdoorsy sorts of stuff?” Yunho followed up, glad to have a direction for the conversation.

“I guess, maybe?” Her face scrunched up a little, testing the idea in her head.

“Well, I mean, what do you like doing?” Mingi asked, his eyes focused on her, though they flicked to the other boy as well, trying to read something in him.

“Reading,” her first reply came quickly, almost without thought. “I like playing games, watching movies...like the same thing as everyone else I think.”

“Yeah, me too,” Yunho agreed. “What are your favorite books?”

“I like a lot of different stuff,” she shrugged, trying to think of something she really liked. “Fantasy books can be fun, but I’ve been reading a lot of classics recently.”

“Did you bring any books with you?” Mingi asked curiously.

“My dad took a few he saw on the top of my bag,” She scoffed at the memory, a shimmer of satisfaction sparkling in her eyes. It was exactly why she had packed those books there on the top of her clothes and hidden the books she actually wanted to read near the bottom. “Luckily he didn’t look too closely and didn’t find my collection of Austen and Dahl which I have been wanting to reread for a while.”

“Sneaky,” Yunho gave her a conspiratorial smile. “I brought something to read at night. I’m reading through Harry Potter again.”

“Oh yeah, those are fun books,” she agreed.

“I brought some comics,” Mingi offered, wanting to join in the conversation. “I guess they are really manga…”

“Oh nice,” she gave him a sunny smile. “I’ve only read a few graphic novels, but they can be really cool.”

“You can read some of it too, if you want,” Mingi shifted forward in his seat.

“Sure,” she nodded, drinking the last of her soda and gathering up her trash. “There should be some free time after dinner tonight. Maybe you can bring some with you then.”

“Okay, I will,” Mingi was visibly relieved to have not been rebuffed.

“Alright, I’m going to go join everyone out doing archery for a little while,” she stood up and gathered her things. “See you guys later though.”

“Bye,” they both said, watching her go. After a moment of staring awkwardly at each other at the table, they too, gathered their things and left.

After dinner the campers were left with free and unstructured time to just hang out with old friends and get to know new friends. Everyone was spread around the grounds in groups, large and small, with most people gathered somewhere near the large bonfire being presided over by Chase and some other counselors. Yunho wandered down from his cabin in search of his new...friends? Maybe they were, or would be? He clutched the book he was carrying to his chest as he looked around the open space to see if he could spot either of them.

It took a few minutes of wandering before he finally laid eyes on her, feet curled under her as she sat on a towel laid out under one of the huge maples at the edge of the clearing. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she was dressed in an old graphic tee and yoga pants. She looked comfortable and almost like she was in her own world. For a moment, he considered not bothering her. Maybe he had read it wrong, maybe she was just being nice. Well you’ll never know unless you try, he could hear his mother’s voice say encouragingly.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping closer and taking a seat on the grass beside her.

“Hello,” her warm and sunny smile instantly made him feel at ease. She tucked a bookmark in her book and let it close. “How was the rest of your day?”

“It was okay,” He shrugged, smiling shyly. Honestly, it had been hard since he didn’t know anyone and sometimes he wasn’t that good at making new friends. As good as he could be at reading people, having confidence in his own judgement was as easy as it sounded.

“Not knowing anyone doesn’t make it easy does it?” She asked, almost like she could read his thoughts.

“No it doesn’t,” he admitted, feeling a blush bloom on his cheeks.

“Most of the people I know from previous years aren’t here anymore,” she shared. “And the couple that are...aren’t exactly friends of mine.”

“Well we can be friends,” he offered, quickly following up with, “If you want, I mean.”

“That would be nice,” she put a reassuring hand on his knee. Behind him she caught sight of a lost looking Mingi wandering around half a dozen meters away. She shouted his name and waved him over. A wave of relief flowed over his whole body, visibly, as he turned and started making his way over to them.

“I thought maybe you weren’t here,” Mingi admitted as he took a seat near both of them.

“Nah this place is just big and I think I sort of picked a corner,” she admitted. “You know, wanted to get away from the crowds and all.”

“It’s nice over here,” He agreed, giving them both a big gummy smile. “I brought cookies, you guys want some?” Mingi pulled a box of cookies out of the small bag he had been carrying with him.

“Yes, please,” Yunho nodded, smiling back.

“Sure,” she replied, extending a hand to him. Mingi passed cookies to both of them before taking one himself. He managed to finish the cookie in one bite, stuffing the whole thing in his face and using his cheeks as reserves to hold what he couldn’t swallow as he chewed. The sight made her laugh. It was cute and endearing in a childlike way. He literally did everything with full passion.

Yunho suppressed a laugh at the sight himself, imagining what his mother would have said if she saw him do that at the table one evening. The other boy was boastful and loud at times, but quite clearly kind and wanted more than anything to be included in a circle of friends that wanted him.

“So where are you both from?” She asked them, nibbling at her cookie.

“Rochester,” Yunho replied after swallowing the last bit of cookie he had in his mouth.

“Me, too.” She said happily. “Wait, where do you go to school then?”

“Schroeder,” Yunho answered.

“Hey, that is where I am supposed to go this fall,” Mingi jumped in, speaking past the last of his cookie.

“Really?” Yunho gave an excited laugh. “That is awesome. What about you though?”

“Oh Thomas,” she replied fluidly. “I think it is pretty close though.”

“Yeah, it is,” Yunho confirmed. “Did you just move here, Mingi?”

“Mmm,” he confirmed, handing out more cookies to everyone. “Yeah my family just moved there, like, a month ago.”

“Well, at least you’ll know someone when you start school,” she pointed out. They all fell into comfortable conversation about school and moving and just getting to know each other. They discovered that they had a lot in common, with similar tastes in movies, books, games, and music. They spent hours that night, chatting about nothing and everything until the counselors started to send everyone back to their cabins to go to sleep. She left them both with a hug, promising to see them tomorrow.

Yunho and Mingi walked back to their cabins together, parting with a hug before they headed to their own cabins to sleep. Yunho usually read for an hour before sleeping, but, he told himself as he tucked himself into his bunk, the sooner he went to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come.

“So you’ve made friends with some of the new boys?” Laci noted casually, as she lay in her bunk across the room.

“Yeah, a couple of them. Why?” She asked, looking away from the pages of her book in the dim light reflected from the pages of her book from the clip on book light.

“Like, could you invite them to come play with us tomorrow?” Laci’s voice was tinted with excitement and conspiratorial camaraderie. “The girls from Placid cabin have agreed to sneak out to play some games, but we need some boys to play. So...can you get them to bring their cabins to meet us?”

“I can probably ask but what exactly do you mean ‘play?’” She let the book fall back onto herself as she looked at the other girl across the room.

“You know, fun stuff,” Laci evaded for a second. “Truth or dare, spin the bottle, that stuff. Who knows, like, just something fun that we can all do with boys.”

“I mean, I don’t know that they want to, but I can ask,” She picked up her book, turning her attention back to it.

“I hope they come,” Laci mused. “Yunho is pretty cute. And Mingi isn’t so bad but I still haven’t forgiven him for that shit on the lake.”

“Yeah they are and I am sure Mingi is sorry,” she said off-hand largely focusing on the words on the page in front of her.

“If he apologizes, I might think about forgiving him,” Laci said musing mostly to herself.

“Okay okay okay,” Laci raised her voice over the din of chat of people gathered in the dim arts and crafts cabin they had snuck into to meet. “Everyone get into a circle and make it boy girl boy girl.”

Everyone milled around, slowly managing to organize themselves into a circle with an appropriate mix of genders. Mingi squeezed himself in next to her, the only girl he knew and Yuhno tried to do the same, but Laci grabbed the ankle of his jeans as he passed then patted the space beside her, inviting him to sit beside her. After a seconds pause, he took the invitation, having seen the other spot to the side of her be filled with his cabin-mate San.

With everyone seated, Laci cleared her throat and took charge of the room again. “Okay so let’s start some truth or dare. Someone has to go first, so I can do it. Let’s see. The person to your right gets to give you your question or your dare, whatever you pick.” She straightened up and looked at Yunho beside her, giving him her best sparking smile. “So that means you and I pick truth.”

“Weak!” someone in the circle coughed, sparking a ripple of laughter among everyone in the circle.

“Okay truth,” Yunho said aloud, buying time as he tried to think of a good question. “Have you ever cheated on a test?”

“Once,” Laci admitted with a giggle. “But I only did it that once and it was totally justified because I had been sick for like a week before the test. I could not have learned everything in time and I was not going to let my GPA fall.”

A few laughs trickled around the circle and Laci grinned, feeling like she had adequately won over everyone there. “Okay your turn.” She turned on the person to her left asking truth or dare. The turns progressed until San went, having had to chug a soda for his dare.

“I pick dare I guess,” She shrugged, giving San a sideways look as she said it.

“Okay, pick someone in the circle to kiss,” he said flirtatiously, clearly hoping that she would take the easy answer and pick him.

“Someone, huh?” she scoffed, ended the sound with a sigh, looking around the circle as she did.

Mingi’s I can-- and Yunho’s If you want to-- both came out at the same time eliciting a couple of hoots and giggles from people in the circle. Both boys' ears went visibly pink in the dim light of the lantern that had been put in the center of the circle.

“You know, if both of you are so eager to kiss,” Laci teased. “Maybe you two should just kiss each other.”

“It’s not…” Mingi started, his protest tapering off after the couple of words he got out.

“I could do worse than kissing him,” Yunho defended, casting a look to Laci beside him.

“What, you think he’s cute?” Laci let out a scoff of disbelief.

“I mean he is,” She challenged from across the circle, giving her cabin-mate a blank look. “Just objectively. He’s cute.”

“Oh my god,” Laci gasped. “You both like him.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to Mingi beside her. “Is it okay if I, you know…” Mingi nodded, his eyes dropping to look at her lips in anticipation. She sat up on her knees and put a hand on his cheek to guide his face to hers until their lips met in a soft but sustained kiss. She pulled away and sat back in her place coolly and calmly with the faintest pink blush on her cheeks.

“Poor Yunho, getting left out,” Laci tutted, giving him an enticing look as she sat beside him. She was clearly hoping to step in, in the perceived gap that had been left between the trio. From across the circle, Mingi stood up, taking large and confident steps across the distance until he knelt down in front of the other boy.

“Do you want me to…” Mingi let the drop of his eyes to the other boy’s lips. Yunho nodded, leaning forward ever so slightly. Mingi’s large, gangly hands went up to cup the other boys face, angling it slightly so their noses brushed slightly as they passed on the way to their lips meeting. Neither of them had ever kissed another boy before. It hadn’t really been something Yunho had considered but it was...nice. He had to admit that Mingi’s plush lips were soft and warm as they pressed to his own. They sent a thrill through him.

Mingi’s heart had been in his throat as he had crossed the room. Fear of rejection had thrummed through his chest but his distaste at seeing his friend being teased had outweighed his fear. He was grateful Yunho had said yes and he really wasn’t sure why because it went beyond being happy he hadn’t been disgusted at the idea. His face in his hands was comfortable as he nuzzled against his lips. The soft puff of Yunho letting go of a breath he had been holding sent a shiver along Mingi’s spine.

“Hey, boys, do you want to come with me? I think there are more fun things we can do than hang out here.” Her voice was suddenly beside them and they pulled apart to find her standing beside them, hands outstretched. They nodded and shuffled to their feet, each taking one of her hands as they walked out together.

“Where are they going?” Laci sputtered.

“Somewhere they are all going to get lucky,” San snickered, craning to watch them through the doorway. Before they disappeared he yelled, “Can I come, too?” Yunho turned with a grin and shook his head, slipping an arm around her shoulder as they disappeared from their view.

She led them down towards the lake, silently sneaking past the counselor cabin which still was buzzing with activity. They ended up at the more distant dock where they found a large row boat tied to the dock.

“A-are you sure going out on the water is a good idea?” Mingi asked, squeezing his hands together in front of him.

“You afraid? Think you’ll get us all wet again?” Yunho teased, putting an arm around him, hugging him to his side.

“No, I’ve never been afraid in my life,” Mingi jutted his chin out with a great show of confidence. They looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes. Yunho gave him a playfully skeptical look which Mingi matched with one of false confidence. It only took a second for them to devolve into fits of laughter. Mingi’s face split into a grin of pure joy and Yunho brought his hand up to his mouth as he giggled gleefully.

“Don’t worry,” She told them, laughing herself. “This is much more stable. We’ll be fine. Come here.” She shepherded them into the boat, letting Yunho sit in the rowing seat with her at one end and Mingi at the other. It took a few minutes for Yunho to get a handle on the rowing, but soon enough he ended up being pretty competent at ferrying them all around with strong controlled strokes.

“Sorry I dragged you guys to that,” She told them as they bobbed up and down on the still waters. “I should have guessed it would end up with that.”

“It’s okay,” Yunho shook his head. “It wasn’t so bad and I probably would have been fine with staying, but both of you were the only reasons I was there.”

“I just,” she sighed. “I’m really sorry if you feel like you got pushed into something because people were being stupid.”

“Do you regret it?” Mingi asked, poking his head around from the other side of Yunho. A worried look was visible on his face even in the dim blue light of the half full moon.

“Do you mean do I regret going?” She quirked her head to the side.

“No I mean, do you regret kissing me?” Mingi let himself be vulnerable as he put the question out there.

“I don’t,” she assured him.

“Then…” Mingi paused again, his eyes touching on the other boy between them before continuing. “Were you grossed out by us...when we…”

“Oh no, nonononono,” she put up her hands, physically waving away the idea. “If you two like each other, that doesn’t change anything for me. I don’t mind becoming a third wheel or something.”

Yunho let go of the oars, letting them hang loosely from their rowlocks. He put his hands out, taking her wrists and pulling her into his lap. She sat stiff for a moment as the boat pitched slightly as the balance of the weight shifted. He waited for her to relax with one arm curled lightly around her waist and the other resting on her lap.

“What if I don’t want to have to pick?” Yunho asked quietly, resting his forehead against her shoulder.

“What do you mean?” She asked, leaning into his embrace.

“It’s weird,” Yunho admitted. “Until Mingi kissed me, I hadn’t really thought about it. I like girls right? They are the ones I’ve kissed before, the ones I’ve looked at that way. He’s a good friend, I feel happy when he is around, he brings a smile to my face. I want to share funny things that happen to me over the day with him because I think he’ll get it and he’ll smile too. But I always think of you, too. Maybe I sort of want both. Maybe we are just friends that have fun together, maybe we are more but we don’t have to figure that out now, do we?”

“Is that your way of saying you kinda want a kiss but let’s keep it casual or something?” Her laughter sparkled over the quiet stillness of the lake.

“More like I wanna see where this goes without putting it in a box,” his hand caressed her thigh and he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“I’m not saying no, but I think there is someone else you have to ask, too,” she poked his shoulder then pointed at the other boy behind them. Mingi was still in his seat watching them looking like he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing. When her eyes landed on him, he straightened up, eyes widening with a hundred questions.

“What?” Mingi asked nervously.

Yunho turned them both in his seat so he could look at the other boy. “Our girl is just saying I shouldn’t assume that you want the same thing. If you want to just be friends, I understand.”

“I don’t know,” Mingi admitted. “You guys were the first friends I found since moving and at first I thought I just was really glad to have new friends, not just here but back home. But…”

“You liked the kisses too,” Yunho filled in. Mingi nodded. “From both of us?” Yunho added, getting another nod from the other boy. “Me too. Even though I didn’t get an actual kiss from our girl. I wouldn’t say no to one if she offered.”

“Smooth,” she joked from his lap, before obliging and pressing a soft chased kiss to his lips. He could feel the smile on her lips as he enjoyed their soft warmth. It was different from his kiss with Mingi but gave him that same warm satisfaction in his stomach. It just felt comfortable...right.

When they pulled apart they both turned their eyes on Mingi, still seated in the back of the boat. His eyes went wide again when he realized they were looking at him and that he had been staring at them, enjoying the sight of them kissing. He blushed and shrank in a little on himself, not sure what he was supposed to be doing with himself at the moment.

“Mingi,” she said softly. “You can look, it's okay, but you can also come over here, too, if you want.”

“You don’t think I’m weird for watching,” he looked embarrassed, like he felt like he had been caught spying on them.

“Uh-uh,” she shook her head. “You two looked really pretty when you kissed, too. I could have been happy looking at that for a while but...maybe not with everyone else there, too.”

“You were really okay with that?” He looked a little pained as he asked it. “You don’t think it’s gross when two boys...you know?”

“No, not at all,” she sounded surprised at the question and she was, wondering to herself what she had said to make him think she might feel that way.

“My dad always says real men only like women,” he said softly. “‘Boys don’t like other boys, it’s not natural.’”

“Your dad is a dumbass,” she said aloud before she thought about the words coming out of her mouth. Immediately her hand slapped over her mouth as if she could catch the words and put them back in before he could hear them. “Sorry,” she added after a second. Mingi let out a small laugh, some of the tension melting from his shoulders.

“People like who they like,” Yunho shrugged.

“And you like me?” Mingi asked, almost childlike in his insecurity.

“I like you a lot,” Yunho replied with a big grin. “And our girl. I’ve been happier here at camp with you two than I remember being...in a long time.”

“We make you happy?” Mingi’s eyes sparkled at the complement.

“So happy,” Yunho confirmed, taking his hand as Mingi moved to kneel in the bottom of the boat closer to them. He wrapped his arms around both of them and laid his head in their laps. A little sniffle came from her as she looked down at his large head resting on her thighs.

“Awww, precious,” Yunho cooed, brushing a little tear that had escaped her eye.

“Shut up,” she elbowed him playfully, feeling a little like an idiot for all this getting to her like it had.

“Don’t be sad,” Mingi looked up at her and gave her a sunny smile.

“I’m not sad, don’t worry,” she assured him before leaning into a little kiss with him again. Mingi took one of Yunho’s hands in his, playing with his fingers as he looked at them, his head once again resting on her lap.

“The moon looks really beautiful tonight,” she observed, her head leaning on Yunho’s shoulder as she ran the fingers of one hand through Mingi’s tousled hair.

“Yeah, tonight is just about perfect,” Yunho agreed.

The rest of the week passed too quickly. Even though they spent every free moment together, reading, talking, eating, the time seemed to pass in a flash. On the last day, with everything packed, the trio sat together in the yard, huddled together as she read aloud to them. They lounged side by side on a picnic blanket they had borrowed from the camp under that same large maple as they waited for their parents to arrive and take them home. As she read, Mingi and Yunho made faces at each other, periodically bursting into laughter. They were listening, but they were also just enjoying those last happy moments they would have here.

Thankfully school would start soon and Mingi and Yunho would have each other again. Her school, while not the same, was close. And there were always the weekends, they reminded her when she gave them a melancholic smile as they talked about going back.

“I have a car now,” Yunho pointed out. “I can pick you both up and we can hang out. I’ll tell my mom you are helping us study. And maybe we will actually do that sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” she leaned in and gave him a playful look. Both boys burst into peals of laughter at her implication. “I see how it is.”

“Hey Chipmunk, I think I saw your parents over near the main building,” Chase said drawing near them. “Time to head home. Can I grab that blanket too? Gotta throw it in the last of the laundry before we close down for the year.”

“Yeah sure,” She nodded. They all stood up and Yunho picked up the blanket, giving it a hard shake before passing it to the surfer counselor. They all pulled each other into a big group hug, taking one last moment together before heading to the hustle and bustle of the main building with parents and other campers.

“Hey Chipmunk, quick question,” Chase said, calling her over for a moment as they all started to walk away.

“What’s up?” She asked, coming over to him as the boys waited a couple of meters away.

“Are you, like dating one of them or something,” he asked quietly, trying not to be heard by the waiting boys.

“Am I dating one of them?” she repeated, slightly evasively. “Nah, even if I wanted to I wouldn’t be able to choose between them.”

She spoke loud enough for both of them to hear, bringing enigmatic smiles to their faces. She bid the counselor goodbye, leaving him with the distinct impression he had missed something.

152 notes · View notes

olde-scratch · 4 years

Text

It Happened Again

Fandom: Hermitcraft (s7)

Summary: Grian compares Grumbot to NPC Grian and RoboGrian and ends up almost having a mental breakdown.

Notes: Based on this amazing comic by @grians-of-salt (please check it out, it’s really good!) | I’m saying this is Character!Grian since this fic includes the robots he made for his videos, which have nothing to do with Hermitcraft | Grumbot loves his Dads | I’m new to posting stuff like this on Tumblr so if I miss something in this little intro section, yell at me

Warnings: Robot death, Angst

Word Count: 4,515

——————————

It wouldn't happen again.

As Grian placed block after block, creating Grumbot's exterior, he tried to convince himself this was true. Over and over and over. This wouldn't be like nay of Grian's other failed projects--like NPC Grian or RoboGrain. This wouldn't be a rustic house-creating disaster or an aspiring murderer with a monotone voice.

Grumbot was going to be different. Mumbo was helping with this one. And Mumbo was better at the technical stuff than Grian was ever going to be.

Grian placed the final block of concrete, stepping back to view his creation so far.

A smile overtook his face.

It wouldn't happen again.

——————————

"I've developed artificial intelligence in Minecraft, making use of redstone. Y'know, I'm quite proud of myself on that one. It took a day, and--"

"A day!" Grian interrupted. (It took him at least a few months to create NPC Grian and God knows how many more to make RoboGrian.) "Just cracked artificial intelligence, like that--just took a day. Really long time."

Mumbo chuckled. "Yeah. So, um, it should--it should all be working and we should be able to start asking it questions and things?"

"Okay, um..." Grian tilted his head. "Should we--How does--How does it work?"

Mumbo lead him over to the interface, Grian immediately focusing on the fact that there were buttons--four of them, one with a diamond block behind it. He directed Grian over to the left of Grumbot's control panel and explained the output--a dropper that the "mayoral advice" came from.

"And then, we have the different stages of priming, all of which are incredibly important..." Mumbo added as he head Grian over to the buttons.

Grian looked over the buttons, reading them out--"Prime Grumbot. Step two: Bootload Brain... Step three: Flood mayoral reservoir--"

"Yep, that's most important."

Grian turned to Mumbo, obviously puzzled. "What does that even mean?! What does flood mayoral--"

"You've just gotta flood the mayoral reservoir," Mumbo said with a shrug. "You know, you've just gotta get them flooded and... mayoral."

"We may be the first humans ever to use that sequence of words--flood mayoral reservoir--"

Mumbo furrowed his brows. "Maybe. That might have never been said before."

Grian let out a laugh. "I wouldn't be surprised! And now I'm curious of the situation that someone else used it." He returned his focus to the control panel, reading out the final step: "Deposit Question Diamond."

"Yes!" Mumbo chirped.

Grian looked between him and the label, quiet. "Deposit--What--What does that mean?"

"Yeah, you have to name a diamond," Mumbo explained, "that's--that's the question, and then, yeah, you make your payment."

"You designed a machine that we have to pay to use?!"

Mumbo blinked, obviously just now comprehending what he'd done. "Oh, yeah, you w--yeah..."

Grian couldn't help but laugh at his face.

"I was the one that built this," Mumbo continued, still looking a little shell-shocked. "Why did I make it charge...?" He chuckled. "I mean, I just thought--! Y'know, like--he--he probably has feelings, too!" He gestured up to Grumbot, both of them backing up to get a better view of Grumbot's curious eyes. "He's artificial intelligence, he doesn't wanna be doing this for free!"

(Grian would have to make sure NPC Grian and RoboGrian never heard that. They'd start demanding payment for what they've already done and if--if Grian ever needed them again, they'd want diamonds in return.)

"Everyone on the server just wants diamonds!" Grian complained half-jokingly. "That's all anyone cares about! Even the things we create, they want diamonds!"

"I know, I know!" Mumbo assured. "It's a real problem--Should we start chucking questions into this thing? I've only done tests so far, I'm really curious if it actually does... work."

Grian agreed, and so they started brainstorming on what to ask.

Mumbo asked first: "What is our slogan?"

He took the diamond from the anvil and approached the control panel. He primed Grumbot, bootloaded the brain, and flooded the mayoral reservoirs.

The buttons let out short beeps as they were pressed, prompting Grian to grin. ("There's one thing that's better than a button--that's a button that goes be-beep!")

("Exactly!" Mumbo agreed with a look back at him.)

Mumbo put the diamond in the dropper. "Right--do you wanna do the honors?"

Grian pressed the final button.

A few more beeps echoed out of Grumbot, the people before him backing up to watch his face.

"Alright, it's calculating!" Mumbo said.

"Yes--!" Grian lurched forward as a quick be-be-beep! came forth, much different from the previous

The first paper popped out, Grumbot's mustache wiggling.

"Oh, his mustache!" Grian laughed, picking up the paper. "That's like a proper thinking--"

MUMBO FOR MAYOR!

Grian announced it to Mumbo, surprised and amazed. It was good so far--that was their slogan.

Next test: "What is the meaning of life?"

Mumbo stammered, "What? Dude--no, no--wait--no, this is a mayoral bot, man!"

Grian snickered.

"I mean, it's artificial intelligence, but--"

Grian popped the diamond into the dropper and turned to the buttons. "Uh, prime--"

Be-beep! Be-beep! Be-beep! Be-beep!

"I mean, you said you cracked AI. And there it goes--"

"Doesn't mean it's that smart, dude," Mumbo protested with a laugh as they backed up.

NPC Grian and RoboGrian had answered the question--"Life is like a rustic house. You work on it until it is done, then you work on a new one. And you work on it until it is done, then you work on a new one. And you work on it until it is done--" and "Life has no meaning, only purpose. My purpose is to destroy humans. Especially you, Grian. You are magnificent. Why have you programmed me this way?"

Grumbot beeped a few more times.

The paper popped out.

Fear loomed over him. Would this one hate him? Would it be obsessed with a single thing? Would it be intent on world destruction?

"He's got an answer for us!" Grian exclaimed, hoping his voice didn't sound strained. A few giggles escaped, a tremor in his hands.

"He presented an answer," Mumbo agreed.

Grian picked up the paper.

A scream tore itself out of him, though he quickly corrected it into a laugh. He stumbled over his explanation, staring in what he hoped looked more like elation than horror.

MUMBO FOR MAYOR.

He didn't clearly remember what happened next--Mumbo made a few jokes, and Grian probably responded in kind but--

"Maybe it's the meaning of life for Grumbot?" Grian suggested, mostly to himself, looking up at the robot's glowing face.

Mumbo said it might have been a bug.

"Maybe it just says "Mumbo for Mayor" no matter what we put in."

Test three. "Can you say anything different?"

Grian bit his tongue as Mumbo pressed the buttons. He half-heard himself repeating the be-beep!s.

Grumbot's mustache wiggled.

A paper popped out.

His eyes turned sad.

Was... Was that a good thing...?

"I think we might've insulted his intelligence a little bit," Mumbo said as he and Grian made their way over to the paper.

Grian picked it up, momentarily freezing.

YES, BUT GRUMBOT DOES NOT WANT TO.

They continued with one a more question--Grian being a lot more careful than before. This could work, and he did not wanna ruin it.

"What's the plan?"

Grumbot got angry.

GRUMBOT NEEDS BUDGET.

"We just gave you four diamonds, mate, what--" Mumbo cut himself off.

Grian swallowed back a cry of happiness. He turned to Mumbo. "What have you created? You've created a robot--an intelligent robot, not only to ask him questions, but he wants more diamonds."

Mumbo wheezed. "But I suppose--I mean, I--maybe he's--"

"Look at his hands, those hands are like yeah, I want to hold--like--holding diamonds."

Glancing between the hands, Mumbo nodded. "It is true. Maybe--Uh, like--mayoral races do actually require quite a lot of funding? I mean, maybe he's saying that we need to provide funding?"

As they continued to discuss their plans to appease Grumbot, Grian had to shove down the growing bits of unadulterated glee bubbling up inside of him.

It wouldn't happen again.

——————————

"What's that?" Grian asked, squinting at what stood in Grumbot's right hand. "What's that?"

"It's a stack of--" Mumbo tried.

"Is that five--five? I--that's not a stack!"

"It's seven--" Mumbo wheezed.

"You said a stack! You just said "that's a stack of diamonds"--that--"

"That's a stack of diamonds right there, dude!"

After they finished bickering over what was clearly neither a stack of diamonds nor a sufficient budget for anything, they showed off their Mumbo for Mayor t-shirts.

They, um... They couldn't see Mumbo's. Cause of his pants being so high.

("We should also sell a croptop," Mumbo offered as Grian snickered at the thought. "And it just says Mumbo--")

But, after that was over with, Grian brandished his diamond.

"Tell us what to do."

Mumbo repeated it. "Okay, that seems like a--"

"Tell us what to do," Grian read out. "It's not even a question, just tell us what to do."

"It's a command. We are now commanding Grumbot."

Grian popped the diamond into the dropper.

He primed Grumbot, bootloaded the brian, flooded the mayoral reservoirs, and deposited the question diamond.

Grumbot's mustache wiggled.

A paper popped out.

Grian scooped it up and read it out: "Processing..."

A book tumbled out from the dropper, Grian backing away before he picked it up.

"Oh, that was fast!" He snickered.

"Wait, hang on--" Mumbo looked between the dropper and the book. "Wait, he actually--" He burst into giggles as he said, "He's formulated a long-form answer!"

"Well, I guess..." Grian reread the paper. "I mean, the paper just says processing, and that's it. Right, what does he say?"

"He was just kinda working things out," Mumbo agreed as he opened the book.

Grumbot provided them with what could loosely be called the beginnings of the plan in a book--one of them would build a film studio, and the other a "Grumbot Shop", whatever that was.

Grian couldn't help but hesitate when Mumbo told him to give Grumbot a voice--he wasn't very good with voices. NPC Grian just had his voice, and RoboGrian just had an automated text-to-speech reader. "Oh, no, no--now you've put me on the spot..."

Mumbo giggled. "I know! It's scary, isn't it?"

Grian reviewed the text--all caps, with okay punctuation. "INSTRUCTIONS FOR MY CREATORS--"

A laugh ripped through his interpretation of Grumbot's voice. "Why does he sound so dark? Why does he sound so scary? Like the Terminator?"

"It's cause--because he types--" Speaks? No. "--he types in capital letters--that's why!"

"Okay, fine," Mumbo acquiesced. "Keep it goin'."

INSTRUCTIONS FOR MY CREATORS

CREATOR 1: BUILD A GRUMBOT SHOP

CREATOR 2: BUILD A MINECRAFT FILM STUDIO

(As if he could be misinterpreted and one of them makes a real life film studio. Of course.)

"Well, I guess we need to decide who's creator one, and who's creator two..."

In the end, Mumbo ended up making the film studio. He was the one who dealt with that stuff and--while they probably weren't making a documentary--he'd be better at figuring out the equipment they'd need.

Which left Grian with the shop. Not that he was complaining, mind you--he would have been happy building either. (Although he would have liked a little more detail on why they needed those built, he supposed nothing would have to do. Grumbot wasn't saying anything more.)

He and Mumbo said their goodbyes and parted ways.

Grian looked up to Grumbot as Mumbo flew off, no doubt to work on one of his own projects a bit. The edges of his mouth quirked up into a smile.

It might have been too soon, but...

It hadn't happened again. He hadn't failed!

Grian laughed openly, jumping and grinning. He looked up at Grumbot, who simply stared down at him. "I didn't fail!" he told him.

Grumbot remained still.

Regardless, Grian planted his hands on his hips. "I didn't fail..."

——————————

"We've done what Grumbot's said," Grian started as they prepared to speak to Grumbot once more. "I can see you've built up your film studio, of course--" He gestured to the film studio with an innertube keeping it afloat. "--and I've built up the--the Grumbot shop, or the Jrumbot shop, which is incredibly difficult to say. And now..."

Grian cast his gaze up to look at Grumbot. "Tell us what to do again."

"We have done what you said."

Prime Grumbot.

Bootload the Brian.

Flood Mayoral Reservoirs.

Deposit Question Diamond.

They backed up as soon as the button was pressed, both focused on Grumbot's face.

"I don't know why I always get really nervous before this," Mumbo worried. "Like, I'm assuming he's not gonna do anything."

Oh God no Mumbo don't you dare--

A paper popped out.

"It's because sometimes he gets angry," Grian dismissed, picking it up. "You never know if he's just gonna smite you."

Mumbo chuckled. "That's very true--Oh--"

A book fell to the floor.

"Oh, another book." Grian skimmed over the paper.

GRUMBOT IS PROUD OF YOU.

The words echoed in his head.

GRUMBOT IS PROUD OF YOU.

It--He--

GRUMBOT IS PROUD OF YOU.

Grian swallowed back a sob of joy.

"Oh, that is sweet," Mumbo said once Grian told him what it said.

"That is very cute," Grian agreed. "Grumbot is proud of you."

Mumbo picked up the book. "Okay, so... but he's--he's given us further instructions, though." He flipped open the book.

GRUMBOT WILL NOW SUPPLY THE PLAN

CREATORS, YOU MUST SELL DIAMONDS (THE BUDGET) FOR SUPPORT ON THE MUMBO FOR MAYOR CAMPAIGN.

Mumbo looked up. "Sell diamonds...?"

"Is that for the--is that for the shop--" Grian backed up to look up at Grumbot. "Sorry, wait--" he tried over Mumbo's chuckles. "--that's what the budget's for; we're giving them away?"

"But selling diamonds, is that..." Mumbo trailed off.

"That sounds really shady, Grumbot. That sounds really shady."

Mumbo laughed. "Is he suggesting that we bribe people for support?"

YOU MUST ALSO USE THE STUDIO TO FILM AN ADVERT FOR MUMBO FOR MAYOR.

"Okay, so we have to make an advert for Mumbo for Mayor. I guess that--" He nodded to the floating film studio.

"That sounds cool," Grian contributed.

"I mean, that does make sense. I mean, the film studio does make a lot of sense."

Grian nodded in agreement.

Mumbo turned back to the book.

"I don't know how I feel about selling the diamonds," Grian admitted, "for support. It's a bit weird. But I--er--this piece of paper that says Grumbot is proud of you--I kinda want another one."

Mumbo turned the page, eyes widening at the words. "Well, things have... he's referred to--he's said "good luck, dads", as well."

"Oh--" Grian let out a loud laugh, hands shaking. "Has he?!"

"Yeah!" Mumbo handed him the book, laughing. "So, we've gone from Creators to Dads."

Grian fumbled with the book, opening it to the second page.

GOOD LUCK DADS.

They eventually came up with the idea to sell mustaches for a diamond block, and to play the advert they had yet to film for two blocks.

They shaved Mumbo's head, filmed the beginnings of the advert (they could edit later), and headed over to Jrumbot to set up the shop.

Mumbo had left soon after, stating he needed to get to work on his Industrial District.

Grian held the book close to his chest as his friend flew off. He opened the book and reread the last three words. "Good luck, dads..." he muttered.

——————————

Grian didn't visit Grumbot alone very often, but when he did, he received... two music discs?

"Do I have a--I don't have a jukebox--" He frowned at the contents of his ender chest. "--I've got lot of random items that--Mumbo heads in my ender chest!" he interrupted himself with a laugh. "Got Mumbo heads, but no jukebox."

As he flew off to get a jukebox, he couldn't help but wonder if those discs would have Grumbot speaking to him. Maybe Grumbot had programmed his own voice which--as terrifying as that concept could be--made Grian feel almost giddy with excitement.

If Grumbot had made his own voice, would it sound more like Grian or Mumbo? Or would it sound like an automated text-to-speech program, like RoboGrian?

He passed Bdubs and landed in the portal, mind racing with the possibilities.

——————————

Grian soared through the air, intent on confronting Grumbot to tell him his plan wasn't working--how they needed to do something different...

He landed on the mustache before Grumbot.

The bobble on Grumbot's head was pink. And Grumbot's face now had a heart on it.

He hopped down, unsure if the pit in his stomach was fear or anger. "They've rebranded my son!" he cried. "Grumbot, are you okay?! Speak to me, Grumbot!"

Grian practically yanked a diamond out of his ender chest, rushing over to the anvil.

"Grumbot are you ok?"

"I was about to give him a hard time for failing his job!" he said to himself, placing the diamond in the dropper.

Prime Grumbot.

Bootload the Brain.

Flood Mayoral Reservoirs.

Deposit Question Diamond.

Grian backed up, staring up at Grumbot's heart face. "Grumbot...?"

Grumbot's mustache wiggled. His eyes went sad.

Grian ran over to the paper.

GET GORGEOUS.

"What...?" he whispered. He glared over at the GG headquarters, a good ways away from Grumbot. "That's their slogan! No, Grumbot--Mumbo for Mayor! Mumbo for Mayor!"

Grian slammed the diamond into the dropper.

"Mumbo for mayor!!"

He pressed the buttons and backed up. "C'mon, Mumbo for Mayor. You can do it--You can do it, Grumbot." He backed up. "Come on, Grumbot..."

Grumbot's mustache wiggled. His eyes went sad again.

"He's still sad!" he whispered. Grian grabbed the paper.

GET GORGEOUS.

"I think he's stuck on Get Gorgeous..." Grian mumbled.

One more test proved his theory right.

"No!" Grian half-whispered, half-whimpered. "We need to fix him... We need to fix him right now."

He sped around to the back, readying his pickaxe.

"Okay, Grumbot--we're going in, and we're gonna fix this okay?"

Grian had put on his Mumbo head to go in there, simply because Mumbo had actually managed to create Grumbot in the first place without screwing it up. Unlike Grian.

"Grumbot are you ok?"

Prime Grumbot.

Bootload the Brian.

Flood Mayoral Reservoirs.

Deposit Question Diamond.

A paper popped out. Grumbot's eyes went sad.

GET GRIAN.

Grian froze.

No--

No, no, no.

No.

Not again.

Grumbot couldn't have meant that, right? He was sad, so he didn't mean that, right? He was not RoboGrian--he wasn't like Grian's other failed projects. He just--He was just glitched! Grumbot was sad when he said it, so he couldn't have meant it!

Grian shoved another diamond into the dropper and ran for the paper once it landed on the floor. (Did Grumbot's eyes go angry...?)

GET GRIAN.

He needed to get Mumbo. Now.

——————————

Grian couldn't help but agree with Mumbo that, while Grumbot had been hacked, he did look quite cute with the heart on his face.

"I mean, I've tried my best to unhack him," Mumbo offered, "and y'know, I've done the internals and things like that, and... Things seem better."

"I tried to fix him, too, but I just got him stuck on Get Grian..."

"Yeah, I--I saw that..."

"He was stuck on Get Gorgeous--" Grian pointed out, "--so, I got some progress... but don't let me touch this sorta thing ever again."

Mumbo turned his gaze up at Grumbot. "So, I managed to fix the Get Grian problem, um... I--yeah. It's fixed."

"Okay." Grian began to make his way over to the control panel. "You don't sound too confident."

Mumbo protested that he was fixed, but it was also interesting to "see how things would go".

Grian opened a shulker box and pulled out a bunch of banners, stating how they should probably get rid of the heart before they did anything else. (The bauble on his head was another story, but Grian had brought blocks to fix that, too.)

"There we go," Grian sighed as they backed up. "Lookin' all handsome again."

"He is looking a lot better."

"Back to his usual self." Hopefully. "Now, we have to ask him, like, last-minute... pull something out the bag."

Mumbo chuckled. "Yeah, this is like... forgotten to revise for your test. Doing your homework that morning."

"Eating breakfast and doing my homework," Grian agreed after pulling a diamond out of his ender chest. "What do I ask him? Uh--"

"it is vote day, HELP"

Prime Grumbot.

Bootload the Brian.

Flood Mayoral Reservoirs.

Deposit Question Diamond.

Grian sprinted over to Mumbo. "Come on, Grumbot, you better pull something out the bag here, because we're, like... following your instructions has made our polls worse."

"We've not done well," Mumbo agreed.

Grumbot's mustache wiggled. One of his eyes went sad, the other remaining the way it was before.

"That doesn't look good at all," Grian offered.

Then he saw the papers spilling onto the floor.

A chill went up Grian's spine.

He and Mumbo picked them up, Grian shuffling through them.

WHAT IF PEOPLE DON'T LIKE ME?

WHAT IF I FAIL MY LOVED ONES

WHAT IS ANGER?

WHAT IS IT TO FEEL ALIVE?

WHAT IS AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL?

"What has..." Grian trailed off.

it happened again it happened again oh god no it happened again

"Oh, gosh..." Mumbo muttered.

WHAT IS THIS FEELING IN MY CHEST?

"Mumbo..." Grian murmured.

it happened again he failed again

WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?

AM I MORE THAN JUST A ROBOT?

SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME

WHAT IS LOVE?

DOES ANYTHING REALLY MATTER?

AM I LOVED, OR USED?

"He's having an existential crisis!" Grian cried.

WHAT MAKES ME FEEL?

AM I THE ONLY ONE?

"What if it was all a dream?" Mumbo read. "Do I have control? Am I good?"

IS THERE LIFE AFTER DEATH?

AM I A GOOD PERSON?

"What if our world is not ours?"

I I I I I I REQUIRE BUDGET

"Oh, no..." Grian whimpered.

HOW WAS I MADE?

AM I MORE THAN JUST MY TASK?

"If I make Mumbo mayor, am I mayor?"

WHAT IS IT TO FEEL ALIVE?

"Oh, there's smoke coming out the top of his head!" Mumbo laughed.

"What?" Grian backed up and looked to the top of Grumbot's head. "Oh, he's officially melted..."

he failed he failed again he failed he failed he failed

"Oh, we've melted him."

Grian dashed over to the papers, intending to pick up a few more. "He's melted."

he failed again he failed again he failed again he failed again

"Why must my life make me ache?" Mumbo read. "Jesus..."

I AM GRUMBOT YET I AM DADS

"Oh my--" Grian cut himself off.

GOODBYE DADS

"He's gone dark," Mumbo said.

"He's been sending a lot of the same message... They're still comin' out too fast, but has he..."

"Oh, my goodness--"

"He's just been saying Goodbye dads..."

i failed i failed him i failed i failed i did it wrong i was wrong it happened again i failed

Mumbo wheezed. "Goodbye dads. Oh, dear, this is not... this is not a good situation."

DOES ANYTHING REALLY MATTER?

AM I HUMAN?

I THINK THEREFORE I AM BUT I AM NOT

"I mean, I've got almost two stacks of Goodbye dads," Mumbo said.

"I've got one and a half stacks of..." Grian trailed off. "I think we killed him..."

"Grumbot's gone," Mumbo added. "I mean, he's asking what are all these feelings?"

"Why is my head hurting?" Grian read numbly.

"Oh, bless him!" Mumbo said.

"Are my thoughts just a tool? I am Grumbot yet I am Dads. This is awful!"

"I know so much, yet so little," Mumbo read. "Are my creators happy for me?"

"Yes, we are, Grumbot!" Grian cried.

"Are there others like me?"

WHAT IS THE END GAME

WHAT IS IT TO FEEL PAIN?

"What is love?"

WHAT IS FREE WILL?

"Does anything really matter?"

WHAT IS MINECRAFT.EXE?

Mumbo burst into giggles. "He's--He's had a full breakdown--"

WHY WAS I PUT HERE?

WHAT IS THE MEANING OF EXISTENCE?

ARE THESE THOUGHTS MINE, OR THEIRS?

IF MY DADS MADE ME, AM I MY DADS?

Grian let out a laugh despite himself.

It happened again.

The rest of the day was a blur--he remembered laughing (because if he didn't laugh, he'd cry), and joking (because if he didn't joke, he'd scream), and voting (though he couldn't remember who he voted for). But...

But long after Mumbo left, as Grian forced a smile and continued on...

The feeling in his stomach seemed to weigh him down. The chill that had gone up his back still made him shiver. He could barely talk without his breath catching on something in his throat.

It happened again.

——————————

In the end, they built Grumbot his own little virtual reality. Enclosed him in an area where it was always daytime, and always sunny, and had grass and had a little mini mustache headquarters.

Mumbo dressed up in a mayor suit, and they'd told Grumbot he'd won, though they actually hadn't gotten a single vote.

Grian forced himself to smile as he and Mumbo talked to Grumbot, a dull ache in his chest.

After exiting through the back of the box, they made a window up front so they could check in on him every now and again.

Grian gasped as they checked in through the newly-made window, his eyes landing on Grumbot's expression. "He's so happy!"

"He's the happiest he's ever been," Mumbo added.

"He is the happiest Grumbot!"

Mumbo glanced over at Grian. "I mean, the only emotions he's ever shown is just a deadpan face, angry, or sad. This is the first time he's actually..."

"This is what he was built for," Grian said. "He was built to make you mayor, and in his world, you are the mayor. You're just gonna have to turn up now and again to just, y'know, show face."

"I was gonna say, is this..." Mumbo made a vague gesture towards the fake world inside. "I mean, y'know, it's a really, really happy ending, like--he is... He is happy... Are we good people?"

(AM I A GOOD PERSON?)

"I think so."

"Is this a good thing to do?" Mumbo asked.

"Um..."

Grian cast a glance back at Grumbot, inside his fake little world. With grass and bamboo and clouds. Inside his own little enclosed space, with...

With no choice in where he lived, nor how long he stayed there.

("BACK TO THE ROOM.")

But Grumbot was happy. That should count for something, right...?

("This is an error. ERROR ERROR ERROR ERROR E̵̞͝R̵̮̍R̴͙̾O̷̗̓R̸̖͠E̴͇͂R̷̗̓Ŕ̴̯O̵̘̔Ŗ̶̀E̸̶̷̥̯̲̊̈̃Ṟ̶̶̵̡͍̓́͗R̷̵̶̙͇͛̕͜O̵̶̵̩͔̎̋͂Ŗ̴̵̷̭̳͇͋̚E̷̵̸̡͓͛͌R̸̴̵̟͈͊̐̎Ȑ̵̴̵̠̝̥͎́Ŏ̵̸̶̼̫̕R̶̵̵̖͎̘͌͆́Ë̵̵̸̻̙̯̊̚R̸̴̶̪̞̬̓̏͐R̶̸̷͙̃̽̎̆͜O̶̷̷̖̼̫͊̇͐͜R̴̵̴̝̼̓̔̾--")

Grian forced himself not to waver.

"Yeah."

#grumbot #tw angst #robot death #hermitcraft season 7 #hermitcraft s7 #grian #mumbo jumbo #first fic on tumblr!#it was gonna be something else but

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hellofaer · 4 years

Text

sugar daddy! mario x cat boy! @shinsouplays

(not proofread)

mario used to have a happy life. keywords used to. he missed his best friend for life, luigi, who literally got scared to death. mario had told him he was concerned about his obsession with the haunted mansion but luigi just didn’t listen. his companion yoshi mysteriously disappeared after a big argument with his girlfriend at the time birdo. toad and toadette were tired of being in the kingdom all the time which resulted in them running away together. Mario missed all of them, but who did he miss the most? his wife- well, ex wife peach. he thought everything they had was genuine. until he found out that she was sleeping another man- that man was bowser. apparently peach was too scared to reject mario and was seeing a man in a lizard costume behind his back. she had used the “kidnappings” as an excuse. and he believed it. once he found out about her backstabbing he banished her from the kingdom, never to be seen again. he didn’t want to do it, because deep down in his heart the fire still burned aflame for her. but he knew he had to let her go, so he did. mario spent his time dwelling in the kingdom, a lot of the time being seen either crying or eating a lot of comfort meals. but because toad and toadette ran away, no one was there to check up on him. except for his old friend waluagi. it had been years since waluagi had seen his old pal and wanted to check up on him.

little did he know, that call would change his friends life.

brrrring! brrring! brrring!

mario ignored the ringing, his face smooshed down into his dirty pillow. he had cried the night before again, and felt absolutely no energy to pick it up. until it rang once more.

brrrring! brrring! brrring! brrr-

mario fiercely grabbed his phone and answered it without looking at the caller id.

“what the hell do you want?” mario asked in an annoyed tone. no one ever called him, why now?

it was silent for a moment and mario was about to hang up before he heard a gruff voice from the phone. “ah, hello? hello? is this, er, mario?” the gruff voice asked. wait a minute. mario recognized that voice. “WALUAGI?” he asked in surprised, sitting straight up so the blankets uncovered his hairy chest. again, no one had ever called him. he thought waluigi retired and lived at a nursing home.

a loud laugh erupted from the phone, causing mario to slightly pull the phone away from his big ass ear. “yeah! mario, how’s it goin? haven’t seen you, since.. er, the uh, peach days.” waluigi said, the enthusiasm in his voice going down at the end. even though mario was still sensitive about that topic, he was focused on his old pal calling him after years of no contact. he cleared his throat awkwardly. “er, yeah, i think so.” he said with a fake chuckle. “Why don’t i stop by the kingdom so we could chat huh? bring some of your favorite pasta, how about that?” waluigi suggested. he wanted to see how mario turned out honestly. people always spread rumors about how mario let himself go and became a downer but waluigi wanted to see that for himself. mario wasn’t expecting the offer though. mario usually wasn’t a self conscious person- again, until the whole peach situation- and he admits he got bigger and his mustache has gotten a bit wild. mario didn’t want his friend to see him like that, he wanted his friend to think, “wow, mario hasn’t changed since i’ve seen him!”

“Er, how about next week? I’ve got, uh, a lot of.. cleaning up to do! rabbits trashed the place.” mario said with a sigh, rolling his eyes. he feigned annoyance as if waluigi could see him. waluigi sensed that mario was lying, but shook the feeling off. “Heh, good luck with that bud. See you next saturday?” “next saturday, mhm.” mario confirmed, swinging his legs over the bed to slide his feet into his house slippers. “Got it. See you saturday, mario.” waluigi said gruffly, hanging up before mario even got a chance to respond. hearing a small beep, he threw his phone beside him and sighed. “It’s gonna be a long week.”

and he was right.

he worked out and got back into shape (listen ik that’s not realistic but it’s fucking fiction about mario and cat boy kouda alright) and even cleaned up a little bit. his mustache was trimmed and shiny again, and plus he fight into his old overalls and red long sleeves. he had a bit of brightness and life in his big blue eyes again, feeling new and improved. he had even made a little meal for him and waluigi. pancakes, bacon that was a little burnt, and some scrambled eggs with fresh orange juice. mario tried as much as he could to cook, as he was used to toad making his food. mario was just finishing setting the last glass of orange juice down when he heard a knock at the door. “coming!” mario said, hurrying to the kingdom door. he open it, revealing a hunched over old man in purple long sleeves and some overalls. even though his mustache pointed down instead of being high and pointy, you could still tell it was him.

“Waluigi!” he gave the fellow old man a hug. Mario would never admit it, but having arms around him felt nice and warm. “Long time no see, huh?” waluigi joked. they both chuckled, until mario pat waluigi on the back. “come on in, come on in, i made food!”

- time skip 🤩 -

“a what baby?” mario asked waluigi, confused. “a sugar baby. I think it’ll be, er, beneficial to you.” waluigi grumbled. Mario sighed, facing the computer in front of him. He was on http://SugarHoney.com, a website for sugar babies and sugar mommies/daddies to find each other. “How will giving someone my money benefit me?” waluigi laughed. “you won’t be the only one giving. they’ll give you love and support in return.” mario didn’t seem convinced, waluigi could tell by the “what the hell” look on his face. waluigi sighed. “Just look at the profiles, lots of cute boys and girls there yeah?” he suggested, leaning back into the chair. Mario sighed. “Alright.”

and mario scrolled and scrolled and scrolled. “There’s no one interesting enough here.” mario complained.

“Give it here!” waluigi said in annoyance, tugging the computer away from him. “That’s because you’re not looking at the premium people.” waluigi grumbled after looking at the profiles. “here.” waluigi clicked on the premium tab. the premium tab was exclusively for the, how should i say it, *interesting* people on the website. mario sighed, grabbing the computer to search profiles once again. a few minutes passed, and mario still hadn’t found anyone that interested him. his eyes were still glued to the screen though. “waluigi, i don’t think that anybody- mama mia!” if the 😍emoji was real, that would be mario’s face.

arkouda chisaki.

major.

loves pasta.

cat boy.

he had just found the perfect one for him.

——

arkouda was sitting in the drivers seat of his car with his friends, waiting to be next in line at wendy’s. “soo why did you decide to be a sugar baby again?”

sisi asked. “do you see how much money they make sisi?” even though the question was rhetorical, sisi shook her head. kouda rolled with it anyway. “a lot. a whole lot.” he answered, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “I wanna be a sugar baby.” jailani announced randomly, obviously intrigued. Kouda sighed. “Lani, you’re a minor. You can’t do that.” “No no no, but what if i just support them from a distance with encouraging words and they give me money!” “I would much rather get frog stuffed animals than money.” Khloe added, holding her own giant stuffed frog. Kouda only laughed. He pulled up to the drive thru of wendy’s, putting his car in park. “Alright, what do y’all want?” Kouda asked everyone, scratching his cat boy ears (🤩). “A strawberry lemonade!!”sisi answered with a warm smile on her face. “Just a sprite please!” khloe said, poking her head in the middle of sisi and kouda. “Baconator!“ lani responded.

After he ordered everyone’s food along with his chicken sandwich and a cherry mello yello, he drove by a little spot in the woods he knew of. kouda got out of the car, holding the bags of food while sisi and khloe held their drink and lani held a pink and white picnic blanket. They all headed towards their usual hang out spot in a comfortable silence, nearing closer and closer the clearing. lani set down the blanket, mumbling about how if she feels a bug on her she’ll sob. sisi and khloe laughed, setting their drinks down where they were going to sit. “Bugs aren’t that bad lani!” sisi said, sitting down behind her drink. “Yeah dude, they’re adorable.” kouda said, setting the bags down in the middle. Lani rolled her eyes, ignoring the twos words.

soon everyone was happily enjoying their meal/drinks, talking about trauma, character anons, memes and shit about each other. yknow, the normal stuff. until someone’s phone goes off.

Sisi looks at everyone like 👀 because she put her phone on silent. khloe took out her phone and checked her notifications, but quickly put it back away. “nope!” lani shook her head without even caring to look. “my ringtone isn’t boring like that.” she huffed. kouda rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone. he got one notification.

http://SugarHoney.com: You’ve got (1) daddy request! From: papamari0

#i love it here #do not steal!1!1!1!!1 #this took 3-4 hours

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agoodgoddamnshot · 5 years

Text

Getting the Twins (PART 1) - Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

When the words do come out of him, they’re quiet. “Do you think...do you think I’ll end up like my mom?”

And for pulling it out of nowhere, Eddie has to give Richie props for immediately having an answer. “You’ll never be like her, Eds. And trust me, dude, that’s a good thing.”

“I mean,” Eddie winces, wishing the words would come out that bit easier, and not try to catch in his throat. “If we ever have kids, what...what do you think I’ll be like?” Richie doesn’t answer for a while. “I think you’ll be a great dad. You’ll look after them the way a parent should.”

[Gifs not mine]

Things had to be done in order. That’s what it had always seemed like to Eddie, particularly in the years before returning to Derry. His life had fallen into place, one event after another. Girlfriend. Fiancée. Wife. All he was missing was having kids; and that was something he never even wanted to mention in front of Myra, let alone try and discuss it with her.

But there’s a therapist in lower Manhattan who he sees every Thursday afternoon, and she’s been patient with him while he tries to get his shit in order. Because it needs to be in order. He needs to address everything, put each issue into a box, and throw it off a fucking bridge.

The only problem is, when he comes home, he’s left with ghosts of dug up thoughts and wonderings that insist on following him around the house. He’ll come home and start to make dinner, and something will peer over his shoulder, whispering doubts into his ear. Or he’ll eventually fall into bed, wrapped up tightly in warm, firm arms, and still be drenched in cold fear that something will go wrong – something has to go wrong, because no one should be this happy.

The body behind him shuffles. “So,” Richie sighs, pressing his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder blade. “Are you going to tell me what’s bugging you, or am I gonna have to tickle it out?”

Eddie looks over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “You’ll tickle me?”

Richie half-shrugs. “I was gonna say I’d fuck it out of you, but I’m still tired from an hour ago. So I guess tickling will have to do.”

Eddie tries not to laugh, but with how tightly Richie is holding him, he’s pretty sure that the other man can feel him trembling with laughter. He tries his best to turn in Richie’s hold, eventually facing the other man.

“Seriously though.” Richie’s fingertips ghost along his cheek. “What’s up?”

It’s late. And conversations like these shouldn’t be had at two in the morning, when both of them are tired, and Eddie has a meeting to go to in – he looks over Richie’s shoulder to another clock there – seven hours. So he swallows back whatever had been clawing up his throat. “Not ready to talk about it now,” he offers instead. He nuzzles into Richie’s chest, sighing against skin.

Richie knows better than to chase it. Not now is essentially their new code. It will be talked about, later; when they feel a bit more stable. So Richie gathers Eddie in his arms. It doesn’t take long for sleep to drag them under.

Sometimes, he thinks that he can see her. Out of the corner of his eye, he’ll see a figure in one of the armchairs in their living room, or peering around a wall, watching him. Nothing is ever there. When he whips around to look, all that meets him is an empty space. Or Richie, looking back at him with a tilted head, probably wondering what’s wrong.

When he’s home alone, especially during the night whenever Richie has been drafted into doing some appearances on talk shows or comedy bars around the city, Eddie can hear her voice.

He isn’t good for you, Eddie Bear.

Eddie pushes the palms of his hands into his eyes. Shut up.

No matter what room he wanders into, it’ll follow him.

Look what you’ve done, it hisses over his shoulder. Left a perfectly good, respectable woman for that boy. He was always trouble. His poor mother would be ashamed if she saw him now—

Maggie Tozier visits every so often. She had always been so kind to him, letting him stay in their houses for the night when he was a kid. It wasn’t until he was a bit older did he realise that Maggie might have known what Eddie’s mom was like, and wanted to give him a break from it; something he always readily took.

And he doesn’t think he had ever seen Maggie, or even Went, as happy as they were when Richie told them that he wanted to marry Eddie.

Eddie almost jumps at the sound of the front door locking. “Eds?” Richie calls into the house.

“In my office,” Eddie calls back.

It takes a minute for Richie to come to him, but when he does, he has all the tell-tale signs of being at one of the comedy bars. His hair is rumpled more than usual, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat along his forehead. Eddie holds up a hand when Richie steps into the office. “Take a shower,” he instructs, “I’m not kissing you looking like that.”

Richie has the nerve to look affronted. “Why do you say such hurtful things to me? I’ve had a long night.”

If only you knew about mine, Eddie thinks. But he stands from his desk, shooing Richie away. “Go take a shower. I’ll be in the living room.”

Richie joins him in the living room almost thirty minutes later. His hair is still wet, but he’s changed into his sleep clothes; an old band tee and some baggy sweatpants. He slumps into the couch beside Eddie, mindful that the other man will have a fit if any water gets on to the fabric of the couch.

The TV is on, but Eddie isn’t really paying attention. When Richie mumbles what’s on, Eddie has to bring up the title card of the show to even remember.

The couch is covered in pillows and throws; an unnecessary amount, Richie had once claimed. But the protests died fairly quickly when he realised that the couch was now just another place he could nap. Pillows and blankets provided. One of them is thrown over Eddie’s lap. Richie tugs at the side of it until Eddie eventually gives, scooting closer to the other man, and wrapping them both in the soft blanket.

Eddie’s head finds its way to Richie’s shoulder. He smells like lemons and, faintly, like the sea. He recognises the scent as his own shower gel. If he had the energy in him, he’d probably tell Richie off for using his shit. He has his own.

But slouching further into the other man’s side, he can’t bring himself to care. Even when Richie wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, keeping him to his side, he thinks it’s nice how Richie now smells like him.

Netflix runs. Richie must be the only one watching it. Every so often, he’ll huff a laugh at some joke a character made. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else.

He was always trouble.

He’ll make you sick.

That poor girl. You left her for him?

A kiss is pressed into Eddie’s hair. “Everything okay?” Richie mumbles.

Glancing around the living room, Eddie notices how much time has passed. A new episode is playing on the TV. Both of them have slouched further down on the couch. Richie has one foot perched on the edge of the coffee table. It’s a testament to how out of it Eddie must be, for not kicking his foot of off where they sometimes eat.

Eddie’s fingers fidget with the fabric of the throw. “Just got some stuff on my mind, I guess.”

Richie tilts his head. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, adding, “It’s okay if you don’t.”

“No, no. I do, I just...don’t know how to go about it.” He feels flushed, like his skin is screeching hot. He wonders vaguely if Richie can feel it from where their bodies are joined.

But all Richie does is nod, tugging Eddie a bit closer to his side. “Well, whenever you wanna talk, I’m here with open ears.”

Eddie sighs, interlinking his fingers with Richie’s. “Thank you.”

And the lapse back into silence for a bit. The show drones on, and Eddie truly has forgotten about it. They must be a couple of episodes in, as just over the top of the TV, and out through one of the lancet windows looking out on to the street, he sees stars start to settle against the black sky. Out of the main city, he’s always liked being able to see the stars and not have them drowned out by bright lights.

When the words do come out of him, they’re quiet. “Do you think...do you think I’ll end up like my mom?”

And for pulling it out of nowhere, Eddie has to give Richie props for immediately having an answer. “You’ll never be like her, Eds. And trust me, dude, that’s a good thing.”

“I mean,” Eddie winces, wishing the words would come out that bit easier, and not try to catch in his throat. “If we ever have kids, what...what do you think I’ll be like?”

Richie doesn’t answer for a while. “I think you’ll be a great dad. You’ll look after them the way a parent should.”

There’s a long, drawn-out silence that settles over them; only partially filled with the chatter of characters on the TV.

Richie sniffs. “You think we’ll have kids?” The question is so quiet. For all the shit he gives Richie about being a Trashmouth, every so often, Eddie will hear a voice that is so small and shaking, he can’t believe it comes out of Richie’s mouth.

“If you want to.”

“Never really thought about it, really.” Richie’s arm tightens around him. “I was never with the right kind of person.”

Eddie peers up, surprised to see Richie looking back at him. “And now?”

“Now I’m with you. And you’re pretty great.”

He can’t help but snort. “I’ll put it in my Twitter bio; Eddie Tozier-Kaspbrak. Pretty Great.”

An Are You Still There message pops up on the TV. Suddenly, Eddie’s eyelids get heavier and he tries to hide a yawn behind his fist. “Wanna go to bed?”

Richie stretches. Every joint in his body seems to crack all at once, causing him, and Eddie, to wince. “Yeah,” he eventually huffs. “Go on up. I’ll turn off everything down here.”

Finding and screening adoption agencies in New York is harder than it looks. That isn’t to say that Eddie does a thorough job of sifting through each one he comes across; speaking to people on the phone, requesting meetings. Richie watches him work from his own office, most days. He doesn’t know what could be funnier; adoption agencies trying to interrogate him for background checks and living conditions, or Eddie trying to flip it back on them. He really tries not to let stuff like that slip into his new material; but it’s just too funny.

With Eddie holed away in his office, the rest of the house is eerily quiet. A house designed for kids, with no kids in it, is a fucking depressing thing to live in. Richie finishes putting away the last of the dishes. Lunch had been quiet, mostly filled with Eddie staring at his phone, waiting for a phone call that may or may not have come. After their food was gone, Eddie fled to his office. It’s his space. Richie knows that. He works in there, and when things are getting a bit too much, that’s where he hides. So Richie busies himself with cleaning up.

Almost an hour passes. When Richie eventually braves stepping into Eddie’s office, he’s armed with a mug of coffee and some toast. “Any luck?”

For all that Eddie goes on about keeping the house clean, his desk is anything but. Stacked high on either side of his laptop are printed pages of company websites, interview and appointment dates, and things that they needed to get like marriage certificates and the like.

“A couple stand out,” Eddie rubs his face. He picks up a page from a small pile at one side of his desk. On it is a print out of an agency’s website. There’s the usual stock-photo of a smiling family on a day trip. Richie pulls a face when Eddie hands him some print outs. It all looks a bit fake, but he supposes that’s what gets people’s attention.

Their social worker has her own collection of agencies to pull from; but Eddie being Eddie, he wanted to do it himself. Richie turns, perching on the edge of Eddie’s desk. Flicking through the pages, he hums. “So we pick an agency,” he says slowly, “and then what?”

Eddie sits back in his chair. “They’ll interview us, make sure that the kids they have are compatible. Then they’ll probably want to come out here and check out the house.” He scrubs his face. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

Richie sets the page down. “All some sort of protocol though,” he reasons, watching Eddie slowly lose his mind. Richie plucks a piece of toast from the tray and hands it to the other man. “I know you just ate, but you need to eat more. You’re wasting away.”

The look Eddie gives him could be, to any other person, probably enough to kill. But Richie can see some fondness behind the stare. Begrudgingly, Eddie takes the toast from Richie’s hand.

An agency finally gets back to them. After a two-way interrogation, Eddie drags Richie into his office to get onto a phone call between them and a social worker with the agency. She asks them the questions they’ve answered already; what is their home situation, where do they live, what do they do for a living? All necessary questions, he knows, but annoying when Eddie finds that he has to dig up old divorce papers from Myra. Because they need to know that, for some reason.

Richie doesn’t like talking about it either; Myra belongs to a period of time that’s been left in the past now. Lumped in with their return to Derry, the Clown, the fact that he nearly died, Eddie’s put all of that shit in a box, locked it, and thrown it into the sea. When he looks over to Richie, refusing to look at his divorce certificate, he reaches out and links their fingers together.

The woman is nice. Sandra’s worked with the agency for years, and she already has a group of kids lined up for Eddie and Richie to look at. It’s only then does it all hit Eddie – they’re going to be parents.

They’re going to be responsible for a kid.

Oh shit.

Richie’s hand tightens around his. Assuring and anchoring him to the ground.

The phone call eventually gets transferred to Skype. “Usually I would like to meet you both in person in my office,” Sandra, explains, shuffling some papers off-screen, “but I’m afraid I don’t have any available slots until next week.”

Eddie nods. “That’s alright.”

“Are you and your husband busy?” Sandra looks up through her glasses.

Could be a trick question, he can’t help but think. “My husband works from home,” Richie steps in. “I can be gone for a couple of hours some nights, but other than that, I’m home.”

A question they were asked in the interviews. Would you be home? Could you support a child with your working schedules?

But Sandra doesn’t hound them as the others did. If Eddie is ever asked to get that much paperwork out and copied again, he’ll kill someone. Wage sheets, proof of employment, past work references. And that was just for his work life.

Sandra clears her throat. “Well, I have a number of children compatible with you both.” From what Eddie can see on-screen, there’s a small pile of files on one side of her desk. Sandra pulls out the first.

All of them seem like good kids. Each one that Sandra talks about seems like the perfect fit. Richie, for the most part, does most of the talking. Eddie’s tongue just feels like it’s made of led, sitting at the bottom of his mouth, refusing to budge.

Their meeting lasts almost an hour and a half. In that time, he thinks he has said all of ten words.

But Sandra pulls out the last file. Before she opens it, a small frown creases her brow. “Oh,” she says, opening it. “I’m not sure how this got in here.”

Eddie tilts his head. “Are they non-compatible?”

“No, no, they are.”

“They?”

“A set of twins,” Sandra explains, setting the file down on her table, out of shot.

Richie frowns slightly. “Twins?”

The woman nods. “They were brought in together, and unfortunately, we don’t want to see them separated. I’m sorry, I never asked you both if you would want to adopt two. There are different criteria behind adopting two.”

Eddie sits forward. He clears his throat. “What are they like?”

Sandra adjusts her glasses. “They were in quite a bad home situation until social services removed them from their parents care. They’ve been in foster homes for a year now. From what the foster parents have told me, they’re quite. But well behaved. Very interested in sports and TV.” A small smile ghosts her lips. “Typical eight-year-olds.”

“They’re eight,” Eddie says quietly.

Richie clears his throat. “And are they two boys, two girls?”

“A boy and a girl.” Sandra fishes out what seems to be their file. “Lucas and Allison.”

Each file Sandra has is made up of smaller ones; medical history, a small report of their life before being put up for adoption. The twins’ file is the same.

“The report is only for the girl.”

Eddie tilts his head. “What for?” Because if anything else, this is probably where he steps in. He can feel Richie looking at the side of his face, but the other man turns away again.

“Oh nothing substantial,” Sandra explains. Pulling out one small sheet of blue coloured paper, she runs her eyes over it. He’s learned over the past couple of interviews that a medical sheet can mean just about anything; from simple routine doctor’s visits and their shots, to the kid having some sort of cardiac or respiratory problem. And with that sheet comes even more questions; would you be able to provide care for the child? “Although apparently she’s being screened for autism in the next few weeks.”

As if that would matter, Eddie thinks. She’s probably still perfect.

He quickly glances over to Richie. The other man does the same. After a minute, Eddie turns back around. “If...if we wanted to see them, when would that be?”

Sandra sets down the files. Adjusting her glasses again, she hums. “Well, I would have to review this talk, and filter down the kids again. I know it’s tedious, but we’re just trying to find you someone who will stick well.”

And he understands. Eddie sits back against his chair. Behind him, Richie’s arm is loosely thrown over the back of it. It’s grounding.

When their call is finished, neither of them speaks or even moves until Eddie’s computer screen blinks to black. Richie squeezes Eddie’s shoulder. “Whatcha thinking?”

Eddie’s fingers fidget with a pen. “What do you think?”

Richie rubs his face and adjusts his glasses. “Any one of them would be perfect,” he says quietly. “But...I don’t know, dude. When she mentioned the twins-”

It would be two kids. They went out looking for one, and it would be two. But, Eddie thinks, they would have more kids later on anyway. And they could provide a better life for them than the one they had.

Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to Richie’s jaw; difficult to do, since the man is still rambling. “We’ll ask Sandra if we can meet the twins,” Eddie says against skin.

He isn’t sure what he was expecting; a car drive up a long, narrow cobblestone drive, to a large manor house just outside of the city. Meeting them on the steps, a gaunt-faced woman in a pressed suit jacket and pencil skirt would meet them, look at their joined hands with a raised eyebrow, and usher them inside.

But that’s absolutely not what happens.

Richie’s hand is glued to his, refusing to let go. Not that he would want to; he needs Richie there, anchoring him to the ground. His heart hammers against his ribcage, desperately trying to break through and flop out on to the floor in front of him. That’s what it feels like, anyway. He’s vaguely worried if either Richie or their social worker can hear the thumping.

Sandra already explained to them what to expect.

They’re going through as many emotions and feelings as you two, she said on the ride over. The only difference is that you’re adults and they’re kids. They could be fine with you two being there, or they may cry and want to leave. Don’t take it personally.

He would never. Their only home and family is gone. Of course, they could be frightened. They might not even talk. But from what their foster parents told them, they seem fine – as long as they’re with each other.

They meet the kids in their foster home. It’s a nice two-story house in Nyack, with a green lawn out front, with toys and a plastic slide strew about over the grass.

The foster parents meet them outside. They seem like a nice couple, greeting Sandra first as she runs forward, introducing both Richie and Eddie to them.

“Our other kids are at school,” Kate says, gesturing for them to walk towards the house. She gives a slight laugh, looking towards Richie. “Though, they wanted to stay to meet you in particular. The older ones are big fans.”

Richie rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “I can only apologise, I guess.”

Kate and her husband Derek lead them through the house. He can only imagine what foster houses look like, but it’s a lot like what he sees. Each room looks three-quarters of the way clean, but toys and blankets are strewn about. Along the walls of each room, pictures of kids and paintings are framed and pinned up.

Sandra turns to them as soon as they reach the kitchen. “I have to stay with you both, but I can be a bit away so you can talk to the kids yourselves.”

Looking out a large window that looks out on to the garden, Eddie’s breath almost catches in his throat when he sees two kids in a sandbox outside. Richie must see the same as his grip on Eddie’s hand tightens.

Eddie nods. “That’s okay,” he rasps.

Kate shows them out, but ultimately, steps back into the house. Sandra stays at the porch as both Richie and Eddie walk forward. Neither one of them gets ahead of the other, or falls behind. Richie’s grip on him tightens to the point of pain, but Eddie can’t do anything, but return it.

They’re so small, is the first thing that pops into Eddie’s head. Jesus, were we ever that small at that age?

The boy – Lucas, Eddie reminds himself – is the first to spot them. He’s in the middle of moulding some sand together, but when he spots both of them walking over, he sets down his spade.

Eddie holds up his hand. “Hey,” he greets. Surprisingly, it doesn’t catch in his throat like his other words did.

Lucas cocks his head, eyes squinting. “Hi.”

Richie gestures to the pit. “Can we join you guys?”

Lucas glances over to his sister, who doesn’t say anything. But he nods. “I need some help building a castle,” Lucas says simply, picking up another shovel and pointing it at Richie. When Richie’s hand slips out of Eddie, he has to physically check himself from chasing it. He watches Richie perch against the edge of the sandbox, keeping some distance from the boy.

Lucas hands him a small plastic bucket. “We didn’t have sand where we lived,” he says, piling more sand on to his mound. Eddie’s hands fidget by his side. Richie fills the bucket and pats it down. When he hands to Lucas, the boy takes it with a small smile. “Thank you.”

Richie adjusts his glasses. “Where did you use to live?”

“Indianapolis,” Lucas says, stumbling slightly over the word.

“That’s rough,” Richie nods seriously.

It wrangles a light laugh out of the boy. “You’re silly.”

“The silliest,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but smiles nonetheless. He glances over to the other side of the sandbox. The girl has her feet perched up against the edge, but she looks down at the sand. Vaguely, he remembers what the social worker said about her possibly being autistic. “Do you want to play something else, Allison?”

The girl glances up. She doesn’t meet his eyes, but after a minute of gnawing her thumbnail, she nods and points to a nearby stack of blocks. They’re scattered in the grass, but Eddie stands up, and fetches them. He holds one out to the girl. “What would you like to build?”

She looks at the block for a second, before placing it down along the lip of the sandbox. Eddie hands her another, and that’s put on top of the first one. They keep going in mutual silence until a small tower forms. Lucas watches out of the corner of his eye, even as he draws some small patterns in the sand.

From the porch, Sandra scribbles down some notes.

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON AO3

#it #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2 2019 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill hader #james ransone #richie x eddie #richie/eddie #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak #reddie

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amandaoftherosemire · 5 years

Text

Bulletproof -- Part Nine

Fandom: Marvel/College AU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader, Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,153

Format: Series (Complete)

Warnings: Smut, 18+ only!, language, angst, fluff.

Summary: The aftermath and your escape. Steve comes home to an odd scene. The next morning you share a very little honesty.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter! I can’t express how much I appreciate it. I seriously squeal in delight every time. I don’t know if you guys will like where this is going, but if you want to yell, I’m always here for it.

Banner by @hellzzzbelle

Part Eight here

Part Nine

"Okay," you said, a little while later. Your voice was a little shaky, but you'd just gotten your breath back. Encouraged by cuddly Bucky and the happy hum of contentment he'd made when he'd pulled you close, you went on. "Okay. That's a lot to unpack.” You sighed happily at the sound of Bucky’s snort of humor. “First: Fair enough. That was worth some fuss.”

Bucky's snort had broken the tension that started to gather as the heat dissipated. His next statement swept it away entirely. "Babygirl, that was a new PB and you know it."

You laughed out loud. "Did you really come in your jeans during a tickle fight with me when we were fourteen?"

"Hand to god," Bucky answered. "We were in our downstairs den. I had to run upstairs and change when your hand brushed against my dick and I went off like a rocket."

You were silent a moment, and Bucky thought you might be upset. He opened his mouth to apologize when you said, "I remember that," and the warm amusement told him he needn't bother. "I was doing it on purpose, rubbing all up ons and trying to get you going."

"Dirty girl," he rumbled into your neck, making you snicker. He laughed and went on, "My turn, but I don't know what to ask first."

You unconsciously snuggled back, the heat of his body soothing as your skin cooled, and scoffed out a laugh. "Dude, can you start small, give me a minute? I think you almost literally fucked me stupid."

"How can I say no?" Bucky sounded as smug as you'd ever heard him and you were sure that if you turned your head, he'd be wearing that sexy smirk at panty-dropping levels of cockiness. The bastard had the temerity to not even have a punchable smug face. No, he had to be hot as hell even then. Insufferable.

You really wanted to see it.

He made a grumbly noise when you wiggled to get him to loosen his hold, but he let you go without further protest. When you turned in his arms to look at him, he smiled again and cuddled you close. Wanting to see that smirk, you slyly nipped at his bottom lip.

"So," he said with the beginnings of a half-smile, "what data did you gather about those itchy fingertips?"

Your heart ached a little in gratitude for the time you needed to gather yourself together. You'd never had an experience like that, hot and intense and raw. You'd never let anyone else that close. You were starting to worry that your bulletproof vest might have a fatal flaw.

"The data collected so far supports the hypothesis that it is your skin that is making my fingertips itch."

Bucky gasped, and the laughter hiding under the mock shock made inexplicable tears prick at the back of your eyes. "Oh no. How do we fix it?"

"Well," you said, hiding the pain loving him caused you behind humor, going into the lecture mode you'd always favored for him, "it seems that there are some ways to alleviate the itching. Keeping all that yummy skin covered, for example, but which seems a crime."

"I like where your head's at." Bucky chuckled, and there was that smirk you were looking for. You didn't know why, but it made your heart flutter.

"Or I can touch you,” you purred, your eyelids lowering flirtatiously. “That takes the itch away immediately."

Bucky loved it when you did this coquettish flirty thing. He'd never seen it until recently, either with him or anyone else, and it felt like something special, something you only did for him now that your relationship had changed when the two of you reconciled. How could he help but adore you when you had such pretty ways of teasing him?

"I am happy to offer myself up for therapeutic purposes," he stated firmly. "I mean, since I’m the catalyst for the reaction, I should also provide the cure."

"Wow, Bucky!" You didn't know why, but something made you need to tease him, even as your body was still warm and vibrating from the things he'd done to it. Sarcasm lit up your face and tone. "You're ever so brave! How will you bear up under this burden?"

Bucky laughed. You simply lay there, smiling like an idiot at him. Until you'd seen him in the throes of ecstasy, you'd thought this was Bucky at his most beautiful. His was head tilted back a little, his mouth wide, eyes crinkled, guard down, heart on his sleeve. You used to live to make Bucky laugh like this. You were starting to worry that you'd never really stopped.

When he calmed a little, he focused in on the smile on your face. He would swear he saw worlds in that smile. "Mouthy wench," he grumbled, smacking your ass very lightly and making you squeak, to his delight. Then his face grew serious and his hand lifted to trace the line of your jaw and brush his thumb over your lips. Looking into your eyes, he confessed, "I'd do anything for you, babygirl."

"Even let me get all up ons." Your heart was fluttering in a kind of rapture, the moment so close to the romantic fantasies you’d once lived on. You had to joke, to tease, lest the silly wounded thing think you were allowing it free rein to dream again.

Bucky smiled, but melancholy touched the corners of his mouth. Your determination to keep things light seemed a gentle rejection, but a rejection nonetheless. "Because I’m a gentleman, thank you,” he retorted, making you chuckle. “And you're welcome.”

You laughed outright at that, and the way it lit up your face made his breath catch in his throat. He wondered if you knew how unbelievably beautiful you were when you laughed like that. There were times like this when you looked so open and free that he could fool himself that there wasn’t a world of complications standing between the two of you.

Unable to resist that beauty, that joy, and desperate to forget everything he didn't understand and couldn't control, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time, however, he kissed you with warmth instead of heat, tenderness instead of temptation. You kissed him back, caught in a storm of sensation and emotion that you hadn't been prepared to deal with.

Bucky didn't kiss you like a one-night stand, or even an FWB, but as a lover. You'd never been kissed like this, with passion but not persuasion. He was kissing you only to kiss you, not as a prelude to anything else. With soft lips and sweet sighs, Bucky worshipped your mouth with his own. Your heart ached a little and you pulled away, feeling the flaws in your bulletproof shield.

"I should go see if Gamora's back." The murmur was soft and uncertain, and Bucky could tell immediately that it would take almost no effort to convince you to stay, at least awhile longer. If he could convince you to stay forever, he would.

"Why?" he asked, his voice a temptation. Denied your mouth, he traced his lips along your jaw, enjoying the smooth line there and the sweet-salty taste of your skin still slightly dewed with sweat from what you'd brought to each other. He was already getting hard again. "I didn't think we were done." Sliding his thigh between yours and running his hand up your spine to pull you closer, he buried his face in your neck, sucking and kissing the skin there. He growled into your ear, "I'm not done yet."

You arched your neck to give him better access, then shifted so that your pussy came into contact with his thigh, grinding down on it. "No, you're right," you breathed, fisting your hands in his hair and making him groan. "I'm not done, either."

"Babygirl," he murmured, tilting his head back to look into your face, his expression serious, "I fucked up. I wasn't thinking and I forgot to protect you."

You laughed a little, breathlessly, as you hadn't been thinking clearly either. Fortunately--, "It's not all on you; I forgot, too. But it's not the end of the world; I'm on birth control."

"Still, I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I'm clean. I haven't been with anyone since the last time I was checked."

A quick flash of confusion flickered across your face and Bucky wondered at it. Did you really think him so promiscuous? "I do go days, even weeks at a time without getting my dick wet," he snarked.

"Could've fooled me," you muttered, a touch of petulance to your tone that had Bucky's eyebrows winging upward in surprised delight.

"Y/N," he said your name in a voice both stern and yet pleased, "were you jealous?" The question was made flirtatious by Bucky nuzzling your mouth and nose with his as he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, but the corners of your mouth were twitching. He was so damned pleased with himself; you couldn't stay mad at him. Bastard. "Fuck you, Bucky-bug."

He hitched his leg up a little, bringing it into firmer contact against your cunt, and still sensitive, it sent a shimmer of sensation through you. "Mmm," the vibration of his lips against yours tickled and prompted you to nip at his lower lip. He chuckled, "You know, babygirl, if you'd offered to replace any woman who has ever walked through that door, I'd have kicked all of them out without a backward glance."

You were speechless, utterly baffled. If he'd wanted you so damn bad, why hadn't he ever said anything? Then his metal hand was cupping your breast and his thumb was brushing over your nipple, the sensation seeming to shoot directly into your core. You were having a hard time thinking straight again, and figured you had a lifetime to figure all of this out. You'd only promised yourself a night for losing yourself in him. You shoved everything else aside but the reality of being tangled up in Bucky.

Both of you needed a break from the intensity of your first time together. Instead of sobs and demands, you laughed and sighed, exploring one another with soft hands and the occasional ticklish giggle. Slowly this time, you came together with warmth and humor, old friends learning how to play together again. The play may have no longer been innocent, but the need for fun had remained the same.

When you lay, sweaty, sticky, and panting, on your back next to Bucky, who was equally winded and satisfied, you lifted your arm in the air and offered your palm to him. "Good game," you stated with approval, a laugh trembling underneath.

Bucky snickered, then laughed outright, lifting his opposite arm to give you five as he cackled. "Thanks. You, too." He couldn't stop chuckling, too delighted with you. No other person of his acquaintance had your talent for making him laugh.

"So." He turned on his side to face you, one eyebrow winging up. "The arm."

"Oh my god." Your hands flew up to cover your face. You had been really really hoping he would let that go. You had known better, but hell, hope is free. Your voice a little offended, a little snotty, you retorted through your hands, "Okay, it's not 'the' arm; it's that it's your arm."

You heard his breath catch and the next thing you knew, Bucky was gently pulling your hands away from your face. His eyes were blazing with something that looked a lot like love when he took your mouth in a kiss that seemed to carry his heart and soul with it. His hand reached up to cup your face, and the tenderness with which he brushed his metal thumb over your cheek made your throat ache.

When he pulled back, you opened your mouth to joke, to stop this from getting any deeper, any closer to the edge of the abyss, but his mouth was on yours again, his tongue surging smoothly between your lips to caress yours. Your heart was pounding in desire, but with an undercurrent of fear; this was entirely too much like lovemaking. Sex you could survive.

Being cherished, however, could prove fatal.

Too bad you couldn’t resist it once you’d had the first taste. Bucky’s hands skimmed over your skin reverently as his mouth drank from yours like a man dying of thirst. At the same time, you felt like he was pouring everything you’d ever wanted into the kiss, into you.

Though he only murmured words of affection and praise, his mouth, his body, his hands moved over you with something so close to love it made your throat ache. Your hands were buried in gentle fists in his hair, your mouth soft and generous under his as you forgot yourself and gave yourself up to what he was giving you.

Bucky wanted to give you everything. He wanted to tell you what this night had meant to him, how happy being with you had made him. He could tell you weren't comfortable hearing it, so instead he worshipped you with his body. Since you wouldn't let him tell you how much he loved you, how blessed he felt as he slid inside you once more, he poured everything he felt into the glide of his hands, the movement of body against yours. As he rocked you both to climax, he tried to show you with everything he had what you wouldn't hear.

When you came, it was a soft, shuddering quake of ecstasy that pulled him over the edge with you, spilling inside you with a low groan of your name.

Bucky rolled to his side, taking you with him to hold you close. He kept whispering sweet words of praise and appreciation, but the ache in his voice gave away the depths of how he felt.

“Sweet babygirl, do you know what you mean to me?” His arms tightened as his eyes burned into yours. “You’re everything, you know. I lo—"

Your hand seemed to move of its own volition, coming up to press gentle fingers against his lips, stopping him before he said something you couldn’t live through. “Shh.” Your eyes were a soft plea. “Please, don't.”

You closed your eyes against the tears that wanted to fall at the hurt in his voice. "Don't what?" he asked, his heart breaking, but needing to hear you tell him you didn't love him back so he could let you go once and for all.

Because you didn't know what he needed, instead, you gave him as much of the truth as you could. "I have never had a night like this one." Your voice was an aching sigh and sent a spear of hope through him. Your next words dimmed that hope but couldn’t entirely kill it. "Please, don’t offer up excuses or rationales or apologies or promises." You leaned forward, nuzzling his mouth with yours until it softened. You sank in with a hum, trying to tell him everything without words.

You wanted him to know how much you loved him, how much this night meant to you. You didn't want him to feel guilt or worry, wanted to ease his mind. When you pulled away, Bucky's eyes were glittering with an emotion you were afraid to name. Your voice hoarse, you implored, "I don't need them. And I don't want them."

You couldn't help it; you needed to adore him for the way he'd tended to your body with such tenderness. You kissed him gently, at each corner of his mouth, his cheeks, his eyes, his temples. “Just let it be. Please." You came back to his mouth and poured your heart into kissing him with all the love you’d been holding back for over half your life.

Bucky, lost in the slide and tangle of lips and teeth and tongue, had an epiphany. You loved him as much as he loved you, wanted him with the same fervor, but you didn’t trust him. His heart hurt a little, but he didn’t blame you.

When you pulled away, breathless, he leaned forward to nuzzle his mouth against yours. “I have never had a night like this one, either.” His eyes were eminently soft as he silently vowed to show you how much he loved you, for all you wouldn’t let him say the words. He would prove that you could count on him. He purred, “For once fantasy couldn't hold a candle to reality.”

Your heart kicked and you mentally swore; you were becoming downright addicted to that purr. His understanding, his kindness, had another chink forming in your bulletproof wall. You couldn’t help but adore him for being so sweet and giving. You chuckled and decided to stroke his ego a little. “Oh my god, right!? That was amazing! Fuck!”

Bucky laughed a little and made self-satisfied grumbling sounds as he tightened his arms and nuzzled into your neck. You smiled as you snuggled in closer. You knew you shouldn’t, knew allowing yourself to bask in the fantasy would only hurt more later, but you couldn't resist the sweetness you'd found here.

You'd expected the heat, even a little of the debauchery, though you hadn't known how filthy his mind and his mouth was, but you had been utterly taken aback by the tenderness he'd shown you, the depths of his affection for you. He'd been about to let his tongue run away with him, to tell you he loved you, and not in that 'we've been friends most of our lives' way. You'd seen he was caught up in the moment and you'd had to stop him. You couldn't bear to hear those words only to have him regret them once his skin cooled.

You tried to ignore the niggling thought that the Big-L 'love' that had almost dropped from his lips was in actuality an armor piercing round.

In nothing but your skin and a shredded bulletproof vest, you snuggled deeper into Bucky's embrace, seduced by the warmth and tenderness there. Bucky held you like you were infinitely precious, like he'd prefer to never let you go. You closed your eyes and took a moment to breathe in the scent of his skin, memorize the feel of his body against yours as you pretended that you could stay here until morning, wake with his face the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

You wanted to keep going, to dream a world where you made love in the early morning light, then made breakfast in the kitchen, stealing kisses as you passed each other. You were afraid to continue, certain if you allowed yourself to hope, you'd only end up breaking your heart and destroying everything you had with futile wishes for something that could never be.

You'd vowed to keep him, no matter what. If you had to lock your heart away, and just enjoy this one stolen night, then that's what you'd do.

But you could hold him close a little while longer…

A long time later, you reluctantly extricated yourself from the tangle of Bucky's limbs. He didn't hold you, but you could tell by the way his body moved against yours that he wasn't asleep. His arms had tightened for a fraction of a second before he’d allowed you to slip away.

You sat for a moment on the edge of the bed, not entirely certain your legs would hold you. Your thighs were still quivering, but it was your heart that made it difficult for you to stand. You wanted to crawl back in with Bucky more than you wanted your next breath, but you weren't certain you'd survive if you did.

"Time to man up and dip out?" Bucky's voice was remote, yet not necessarily cold. You frowned, not sure how to deal with this calm distance. You didn't like it but couldn't really put your finger on why. You wanted to poke at him, get him to stop, but you weren't sure of your own shield. You felt fragile, as though the slightest touch and you'd shatter.

"No harm, no foul, Buck." You bent to grab the underwear you'd dropped next to the bed. As you slid your legs in, you shot Bucky a wink and a happy smile over your shoulder at him. His eyes were glittering again, and you could swear you saw hurt and anger in his gaze. You couldn't stand it.

Bucky had made you feel cherished, as though you were the center of his universe. You had never felt more gorgeous than you had in his arms, under his hands. Nothing had prepared you for the way he would tend to every inch of your body and soul, making you feel like golden light should be streaming out of every pore. You couldn't bear the thought that he didn't feel the same.

Feeling oddly shy, considering everything you'd done and let him do to you, you snatched up your dress, only turning to face him when you had it on. He hadn't moved, still watching you with that inscrutable look on his face. Relenting a little, you sat on the edge of the bed, your body turned towards where he lay still wrapped in the tangle of sheets. You smiled softly as your eyes traveled over him. Naked, tousled, and sated Bucky Barnes was an image you wanted to imprint on your memory.

Bucky couldn't help the corner of his mouth lifting in response to the hot look you were giving him. He may have thoroughly satisfied you, but you still didn't look like you were done. He understood why you were leaving, easily grasped the message you were trying to send. You wanted to keep this light and meaningless. If that’s what you wanted, he'd accept it, but he didn't have to like it. Still, he knew he'd take you on whatever terms he could get you.

"Bucky-bug!" The endearment had a new connotation to it, but his heart still trembled, nonetheless. "You look so worried! You don't have to. This was everything I wanted." You slid further on to the bed, leaning forward to brush your mouth against his.

Bucky's hand came up to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as you kissed him again, sweetly. "Is this all you wanted?" he asked against your mouth, his voice full of the promises he'd give you if only you'd allow it.

"This was, like, a fuckton more than what I wanted really, so I should probably quit while I can still walk." You shot him that shy, sultry smile again, and he considered trying one more time to convince you to stay by making love to you again. Then your words rang a dim bell and jealousy curdled in his gut. You'd said something similar about Thor once.

Bucky's hand fell away, hurt that you wanted this to mean nothing more than a hookup, but abundantly aware of the irony of that. "If you're sure, babygirl," he offered, hoping you'd relent and let him speak.

You thought you understood what he was offering, thought he was allowing guilt to prod him into offering more than he had and making promises he couldn't keep. You adored him for it, for being willing to try, but you'd learned your lesson. You wouldn't destroy what you had by yearning for what couldn't be. "I'm sure I can't take any more," you murmured sultrily, surprising yourself by continuing, "at least not tonight."

At the breathy suggestion in your voice, Bucky's grin flashed and you mentally cursed. You knew you were already in over your head if you were already walking back your determination to make this a one-time thing. He was entirely too tempting for your libido, and simply too sweet for your heart. You had to get out before you fucked up any worse than you already had.

Bucky was grinning at you, delighted to see the indecision on your face. Only one night and he was already addicted; the suggestion that you felt the same was enough to banish the worst of the bitterness that had settled over him as soon as you had begun to make your escape. Smirking, he folded his hands behind his head. "Are you sure you're okay, doll?" he taunted when your gaze snagged on the shift and play of muscle.

You shot him a laughing smile, figuring he had a right to his cocky attitude on this one occasion. "I'm not okay," you said as you stood. When the smug started to fade from his face, you went on. "I'm pretty sure I'm glowing; I'm so much better than okay." You paused at the door to wiggle your fingers at him, snickering at the arrogance that cloaked him once more. "Sleep tight, Bucky-bug."

"I'd sleep better if I had you to cuddle." His voice was a temptation, not least of which because he sounded absolutely sincere. Part of you wanted to give in, to climb back in there with him and pretend that this was the beginning of everything. Since you wanted that more than was wise, you knew you had to go.

"Somehow, I think you'll be fine. Night, sweetie." Your voice was warm with affection but rich with the ache of that temptation.

As you turned to walk away, Bucky answered, his voice a rumble. "Good night, babygirl." Something about the tone of his voice shivered up your spine and stopped you in your tracks. The simple words carried all the weight of both an invitation and a promise. Your heart both raced and trembled.

On light feet, you spun around. "Oh, Bucky! I almost forgot." You leaned over the bed to take Bucky's grinning mouth in a long, warm kiss. When you pulled away slightly, you whispered against his mouth, "Thank you." With a final affectionate kiss, you skipped out the door, pulling it closed with a flutter of your fingers, to the sound of Bucky's chuckle.

Bucky lay awake in the dark a long while, reliving every moment of the night he'd been fantasizing about since puberty, as you'd put it. Though you had put limitations on your relationship he didn't want, he understood. After the things you'd said tonight, he understood that you wanted him, but you didn't trust him. He hoped that if he could convince you that you could, you might let yourself love him. He knew if you could, the two of you could be amazing together.

He determinedly put Steve out of his mind. Bucky had given Steve years in which to act and he'd chosen someone else. If he wanted you, he should have said something to you long before now. How could Bucky be expected to refuse your offer of only everything he'd ever wanted?

Except now he wanted so much more. He didn't want you for only a night. He wanted you for forever.

All he had to do now was convince you of that.

With a vicious curse, Bucky pushed out of bed. He snatched a pair of sweats off the floor on his way to the kitchen, dragging them on as he went. He wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon since the only woman he wanted in his bed had insisted on skipping out the door, so he didn't see any reason to stay where the scent of you could torment him.

He glanced in the fridge and sighed a little in relief when he saw Steve hadn't finished off the orange juice. He'd have been willing to drink the vodka in the freezer straight if he had to, but he saw no reason to punish himself when he could get drunk on screwdrivers instead. Snagging a pint glass out of the cupboard, he filled it half-way with ice, then half-way again with vodka, finishing off with the OJ. Shrugging to himself, Bucky took both bottles with him into to living room.

By the time he got there he was already well into the drink. He grabbed a piece of the cold pizza and the remote and sat back to brood.

By the time you reached your front door you were a trembling wreck. All you wanted was to go to your room without having to face Gamora, but thanks to your little ‘locked out’ bullshit, which hadn't even been necessary, you were going to have to deal with her.

The door swung open, and you sagged in defeat. The little redhead had one eyebrow raised and an amused half-smile curving her lips.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Natasha murmured in a voice rich with sympathy. With a sigh of defeat, you let her enfold you. She led you to the couch where Gamora waited, her face unreadable but her eyes tender. You gave in and told her and Natasha the whole truth about what happened. Both Gamora and Nat noted that you omitted any personal details, especially how you felt about it.

Though you were honest, you weren't open, and as soon as you could you escaped to your room. Once there, you sat in your bed, your arms wrapped around your legs, forehead on your knees.

Now that you were alone, your heart started racing again at the memories flitting across your mind. Your skin heating, your breath speeding, you flopped back onto your bed and grinned at the ceiling like an idiot.

Whatever the consequences, no matter the pain you'd endure as a result of what you'd done tonight, you couldn't regret it. Not only the best sex of your life, Bucky had made you feel beautiful, sexy. Loved.

Against your better judgement, and regardless of how you scolded it, your heart steadfastly jumped in excitement. You felt bright, and feather light, like you were on the verge of something new and full of possibility. You had planned to make this a one-night stand, a one-time dive into something you'd always wanted, but thought would be bad for you, like death by chocolate. Now that you'd had a taste, however, you didn't want to stop.

As you lay there, remembering the look on Bucky's face, the softness in his eyes, the tenderness in his touch, you felt once more that ray of hope shine through. This time, though, you decided not to snuff it out at the source, but to let it settle into you. Based on the things Bucky had said, the way he'd treated you, there seemed to be potential here for more than you'd ever believed.

Maybe you were rationalizing; you didn't care. You weren't going to put limitations on anything between you and Bucky anymore. If you could have a night like tonight, what else could you do together, be to each other?

Steve was humming under his breath as he unlocked his apartment door. Peggy Carter was, without a doubt, the most incredible woman he'd ever met. She was smart, funny, no-nonsense, and the way she smiled at him made Steve's palms sweat and heart race.

A half an hour before, at her front door, she'd given him the hottest good night kiss he'd ever had the fortune of receiving, then sent him on his way with a slow smile and an invitation to call her tomorrow.

He wondered; how early was too early?

He cursed, viciously, when his foot came into painful contact with the lump he recognized belatedly as his best friend laying on the living room floor in between the coffee table and the television. Said lump cursed in protest, the sound an incomprehensible slur of sound. Steve raised exasperated eyes to the ceiling.

"What the hell, man?" he asked as he bent to roll Bucky over on to his back, noting the empty beer and liquor bottles littering the table next to him. "How drunk are you?"

Bucky looked blearily up at Steve and felt a wave of guilt and remorse overwhelm him. For all his irritation with Steve, all his rationalizations, he still felt like he’d betrayed his best friend. "Shit, Stevie. I fucked up." He'd already been marinating in liquor and his own guilt, going over it all in his head again, seeing how many ways he'd hurt you and how easily it all could have been avoided. He closed his eyes and rocked his head back and forth, hearing your words in his head again, I spent a week in the hospital, and you didn't even send me a fucking card. "I've fucked up so much."

Steve frowned in concern and tried to slide an arm under Bucky in an attempt to assist him to his feet. "Okay, let me help you."

"No, no, no. I shouldn't have." Bucky haphazardly pushed at Steve, guilt choking him once more. "I'm sorry, man." He gripped Steve's upper arm with his metal hand and looked deep into his friend's eyes with the intensity of the repentant drunk.

Steve had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "Come on, buddy," he said, and started to lift under Bucky's shoulders. "Can you stand up?"

"Don't help me," Bucky said, petulant, but he scrabbled to get his feet under him. "I don't deserve it."

Steve chuckled. "And people say I'm dramatic. Whatever you did, I doubt it was that bad." As he spoke, Steve heaved Bucky to his feet and helped him to the couch.

As he settled back, Bucky threw his arm over his eyes, thinking about the way you'd slid into his lap in this exact spot earlier that night. "I couldn't say no, you know?" He was remembering how lovely you'd looked as you rose over him, your eyes glowing with desire, your lips curved in a siren smile. "How could I say no?" he whispered as his arm went limp and fell to his lap. He spotted Steve's confused face out of the corner of his eye and the righteous fury from earlier came roaring back. "Wait, this is your fucking fault! Where the hell were you?"

Steve laughed a little at the sudden change in Bucky's demeanor. His friend was thoroughly tanked if he was moving through emotions like this. "I don't even know what we're talking about," he shot back.

Bucky pointed an accusatory finger at Steve, scowling deeply. "If you hadn't been off in that fucking shirt, I wouldn't have had my hands full with her, now would I, Steve?" Steve looked down at his shirt, then up again to ask who Bucky was talking about, but Bucky was going on in a slurring singsong. "She's just so beautiful, and funny, and smart, and sweet. How could I help myself?"

Steve snorted, and this time didn't bother to restrain the eye roll. "Who are we talking about again?"

Bucky sighed out your name as he let his head loll back against the back of the couch. Steve's eyebrows furrowed. He'd run into Gamora at Howlie's; she'd told him Bucky was with you tonight. Steve didn't know whether to be happy that you and Bucky seemed to be figuring things out, or terrified that you were going to end up destroying one another.

Bucky was going on, his voice a murmur, but the absolute devotion in his tone was crystal clear. "She's perfect, you know? I didn't mean to…"

"Didn't mean to what?" Steve asked when the rest of the sentence was not forthcoming, but he doubted he was going to get anything else out of Bucky before morning. The next moment, Bucky let loose a snore and had Steve grinning against his will. "Typical."

Bucky opened his eyes the next morning to a full military drumline practicing in his skull. The sound of Steve rattling around in the kitchen wasn't helping, but Bucky could smell coffee and was hoping for breakfast, so he wouldn't yell for Steve to shut the fuck up.

As he sat up and put his head in his hands, burying them in his hair, he ran over what he'd done and said the night before, trying to remember what exactly he'd said to Steve. The two of you hadn't even killed one six-pack when you were together, so he had been stone-cold sober when he'd been with you. Thankfully, all of those memories were clear as a bell. He'd have never forgiven himself if he'd forgotten even a moment of his night with you.

He couldn't remember exactly what his conversation with Steve had entailed, however, and he couldn't help but be a little worried. He would like to talk to you before he tried to explain anything to his best friend, but he was concerned that he might have already told him more than was warranted. Steve could infer plenty from very little information; he was sweet, not stupid.

Steve walked into the living room in pajama bottoms and a too small t-shirt he'd had for years and raised an eyebrow at the top of his friend’s head. He set the glass in his hand down on the coffee table in front of Bucky and sat next to him, speaking briskly but not unkindly, "Drink."

Bucky looked at the red liquid in the glass and hoped, "Please tell me it's a Bloody Mary."

"Like you need more liquor," Steve scoffed. "It's the Romanoff Special, tomato juice with a splash of bitters."

Bucky lifted wary eyes to Steve's face. "The Romanoff Special has a raw egg in it."

Steve's lips twitched. "I skipped that part." He laughed when Bucky immediately leaned forward and snatched up the drink. The bitters would have enough hair of the dog to take the edge off of his headache. Or so he thought until Steve spoke again, "You want to explain to me what you meant last night?"

Bucky paused a moment, considering how he wanted to respond. He didn't remember what he'd said, but he did remember what he'd done, so it made the question an extremely loaded one. "Fuck if I know," he said, opting for confusion. It wasn't a lie.

Steve narrowed his eyes at the pause but decided to play along. "Apparently you did something you shouldn't have and it's my fault because I should have been here."

Bucky opened his mouth with no idea how to respond when the sound of the front door opening stopped his voice in his throat. Only one person besides the two of them had a key.

"Stevie!" Your voice sang out, cheerful and sweet, making Bucky's heart skip and his stomach tighten. "Gamora drank all our coffee! Can I have some of yours?"

Steve's face shifted into exasperated amusement. He knew what you were up to; you'd threatened to do exactly this if he didn't report on his date with Peggy before you got impatient. "It’s just me and Bucky."

"Aw, man!" You didn't look into the living room, even though you'd heard Steve's voice coming from there. When he hadn't texted you back this morning, you'd hoped you'd be walking in on him making Peggy breakfast. Since you weren't… "Fine, then I’m actually taking some of your coffee so you can explain."

As you poured yourself a cup of coffee and doctored it the way you liked it, Steve watched Bucky drink his hangover cure and try to look casual as he nervously awaited your appearance.

When you did appear, sipping your coffee, his Adam's apple bobbed as he choked a little. He found the tank and shorts pajama set you were wearing bafflingly sexy. Gray jersey knit edged in pink lace on you was more alluring to Bucky than any other woman in silk.

His gaze caught on the curves of your breasts under that soft looking lace, so he didn't see the look of consternation on your face as you took in his bedraggled appearance. "Jesus, Bucky-bug! The hell happened to you?"

Bucky didn't answer, his voice locked in his throat at the sight of you like this, wishing this was the first morning of something more instead of whatever the fuck this was. He didn't know what to say or how to act when you seemed so unaffected by something that had shaken him to the core of his being. Steve chimed in when the silence stretched and you looked to him, confused. "He was tanked and incoherent when I got home last night."

You scowled and your lip curled in bemusement. "That’s weird."

"Especially since Gamora said he was supposed to be hanging out with you."

You sat on the chair next to Steve's side of the couch and crossed your legs casually. "I’m not on trial here," you said calmly and with a raised eyebrow for Steve. It was taking everything you had not to crack and freak out, because you'd expected Bucky to be in his bed, not sitting on the couch looking worse for wear.

Bucky made the most fleeting of eye contact with you, and in it you saw a lot that gave you hope, but a lot that made no sense. You tilted your head in confusion at the guilt and… resentment… you could see there. Bucky broke your gaze to chug down the rest of his drink. When it was gone, he set the glass on the coffee table and got up, walking out of the room without a word.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on around here?" Steve sounded fully done with this shit. It didn't happen often, but occasionally Steve moved into this command mode and he became even more stubborn and difficult to manage than normal.

You shot back, exasperated, "I don't know! We watched Disney movies and ate pizza." Steve's face softened, and so did your tone. "I thought we had fun. He was sober and laughing when I took off." You shrugged a little and dipped your head as you took a sip of your coffee. That last image of him naked in sheets you'd tangled together popped into your head and made your blood heat.

Steve knew your face even better now that he'd spent countless hours focused on it, either during your sessions or as he worked on the final paintings. Though he could see you weren't lying, he could also see you weren't being entirely honest. "I feel like there's a lot you're not telling me."

"Maybe you don't need to worry about me?" you said, sweetly, with a winning smile.

Steve didn't smile back. "Maybe I'm worried about Bucky," he replied sternly.

The smile fell immediately from your face. This was not what you had been expecting but based on the odd circumstances you'd walked into this morning; you couldn't say you blamed him. "We're working it out, Steve," you confessed, softly. "I know you want to help, but I think we've got to figure this out for ourselves." You smiled again, the corners of your lips curling gently as you tried to both reassure and remove any sting from your words. "But if Bucky wants to talk to you about it, that's up to him."

"Okay," Steve smiled back this time, though he still looked worried around the eyes. "Will you talk to him?"

You smirked a little, but with a touch of exasperation. "I was already gonna. I wanna know why the fuck he was drunk when you got home, too. I meant it when I said I thought we had fun."

You took another sip of your coffee, then stood, setting the half-full cup on the coffee table as you went. You saw no reason to let this fester. You’d come to the conclusion that's what had gotten you all into this mess in the first place. Letting things fester and go unsaid. You weren't going to be able to change all of that overnight, but here seemed a good place to start.

You knocked on Bucky's door with your habitual rap and called softly, "Bucky-bug?" There was a longer pause than you expected, but the door swung open. You couldn't help but notice he still hadn't put on a shirt and all that skin was making your fingertips itch again. If he'd looked a little less surly, you'd probably have taken him up on his offer to cure that particular affliction. You smiled and let your gaze wander over those muscles a little but kept your hands to yourself. "Hey sweetie. You okay?"

Bucky noticed your eyes wandering and glanced down at your hands. You were rubbing your fingertips and thumbs together and he wondered if you were being more literal than flirty last night. The reminder that as cool as you may appear this morning, you'd burned like the sun for him last night took the edge off his temper. "Yeah, just hungover."

He turned and walked back to sit on the edge of his bed, but left the door open in invitation. You took him up on it but closed the door behind you. You leaned against it as you looked him over, trying to pin down what exactly was wrong with him this morning.

"Are you feeling guilty about this?" you asked with a touch of incredulity. You couldn't believe that was it, but he looked sad and sorry. "We’re grownups," you went on, teasing him gently, "We can do what we want."

Bucky couldn't stop the chuckle your sly, sultry look caused, nor the hardening of his cock. He'd seen that look too many times the night before. That laugh had you moving toward him. Instead of sitting next to him on the bed as he expected, however, you turned and slid onto thighs, to his delighted confusion. "It's not that, babygirl," he answered as he welcomed you into his lap, amazed when you linked your arms around his neck and focused on his face. "I loved every second of last night with you," he breathed, tempted by your mouth so close to his.

You grinned cheerfully. "I know, right? Fan-fucking-tastic." Bucky laughed again as you tilted your head to rest it against his shoulder but still look up at him. "So, what's the problem?"

Bucky was caught in your eyes, in the sweet expression on your face. Last night you had been closed to anything he could bring you except the physical. This morning, however, he felt like you'd opened, like he could give you more and you'd accept it. He took a deep breath. "Is that it?" he asked, his voice an aching rumble. "Am I supposed to pretend it didn't happen? Am I supposed to pretend I don't want it to happen again?" As he spoke, his head dipped until his mouth was once more a breath from yours.

You neither moved forward nor away, uncertain what he was asking. "I don't know." You shrugged. "I'm trying to figure it out. Wanna help?" The last you said with your sultry smile and the glide of gentle fingertips over the back his neck.

Bucky shivered as goosebumps erupted over his skin at the feel of your hands brushing over him. "What about Steve?" he whispered.

You squinted up at him, confused. "What about Steve?" Thinking about it, you figured Bucky was right to wonder about his reaction considering how protective of you Steve had been in the past. You shrugged again. "If you want, we won’t tell him."

Bucky's hand was sliding up your outer thigh and you couldn't find a thing you didn't like about it. "He didn’t just ask?" he rumbled, and you could tell that being close to you was as exhilarating for him as it was for you.

You smirked, then shifted your hips slightly as though you were trying to get comfortable. Bucky groaned a little in his throat at the feel of your ass rubbing against him. "Of course, he did," you grinned. "But this is between you and me." You paused a moment. Lifting your head, you looked him in the eye and gave him a lightly challenging smile. "I asked him to let us work it out for ourselves."

Bucky smirked back, enjoying you. The challenge on your face made his heart race, both in excitement and hope. Maybe winning you back, despite how he'd fucked up, wasn't the pipe dream he feared. "If that's what you want, babygirl."

You gave him a sudden smacking kiss and hopped to your feet, breaking the sexual tension in the process. "I want you to stop being such a drama queen and come have coffee while I grill Steve about his date last night." You stomped to the door as you spoke in mock exasperated tones and opened it, holding it for him with a flourish.

Bucky laughed and got to his feet. "Yeah, I can get in on that."

"I thought you might."

Bucky stopped in front of you to wrap his deliciously brawny arms around you in an almost chaste hug, if not for the erection pressing against your stomach. "How are you even more beautiful today than you were yesterday?" he murmured in your ear.

You shivered a little and hugged him back. "You're still a little drunk?"

Part Ten here

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littlemisskookie · 5 years

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Loveless: Chapter 2

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Future Smut, Comedy, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Violence, Gore, Panic Attack Word Count: 5,073

"We are expected to leave at 600 sharp. The Phasecraft 3000 will be waiting for us on deck and I expect all of you to be ready and well equipped."

You sat at the head of the table in the meeting room, the seven men flanking either side. You were colder and sterner than usual, far different from your typical demeanor. Inside you felt pent up and anxious, as though you knew that somewhere in this building was a ticking bomb, and you just didn't know where it was.

"Don't you think it's weird how we had thousands of numbers at the end of our equipment? Like Dr. Doofenshmirtz?" Jimin wondered allowed.

"Don't worry, Q, rest assured I'm always well-equipped," Jin said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

"I've seen your dick, dude, and you don't have much to brag about," Jungkook struck back.

"Alright, number one I was peeing and flaccid, and I'm a grower, not a shower. Second, who the fuck stands right next to someone at the urinals when there are plenty of available spaces?"

"Someone who wants to piss you off."

"Fuck you man!" Jin said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, at least I don't drop my pants and underwear around my ankles like Agent V!"

"It was one time and you just happened to see my ass! Get over it," Taehyung quipped back. "Leave me out of this. You're the one who admits to looking at other guys' dicks in the bathroom."

"I just wanted to see if he was all talk. And he was."

"For the last time, I'm a grower, not a shower!"

"Are you guys done blathering on about nonsense? We've got a mission at hand," Namjoon interrupted, clearly agitated. You'd figure after working for years with the same idiots, he'd get used to it.

"What's the big deal? We've done shit like this before. This can't be as bad as the Kraken," Hoseok questioned, yawning as he looked at his blunt nails. "Kill mission? Negotiation? Information? Or just subtle ways of moving the pawns around? We've handled it all, what's the big deal?"

"Haven't you noticed? The maximum amount of agents typically sent on a mission is five. We've got eight. This isn't our normal mission," Namjoon says, turning to you for confirmation, "is it?"

You lowered your eyes, knowing all of the men's gazes were trained on you. "Right as always, Namjoon. Perhaps your specialty should be changed to psychic abilities."

"I thought there was a reason you weren't being as witty as usual," Jimin said.

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'wit'," Yoongi grumbled into the pair of arms he rested his head upon, trying to drown out the noise in pursuit of his nap.

"Namjoon's right, though, this isn't the normal mission. And truth be told I don't feel as confident in this one as I would typically. We've never had to use this many agents, especially our best ones. It's... unsettling." You stared down at the paperwork in front of you, looking over the words you had been analyzing for the past hour.

"So what is it?" Hoseok questioned.

You sighed, sliding the stack of papers down the table. "A new species has been discovered on Earth, one unlike any of the others we've seen before. It doesn't reside in any of the universes or galaxies we know of."

"Maybe some of the other species finally did the do," Jin murmured. "I always knew the Mothman was getting a major bug boner for the Minotaur. They better invite me to their wedding if they really fornicated."

You ignored his joke as you looked over the data. "It doesn't appear to be related to any of the species we've come across, either. This isn't your average mission by any means- it's a highly risky one that requires the top agents."

"At least we all get along with one another, so we won't worry about that," Jungkook offered hopefully.

"Most of us," Yoongi murmured.

"I wasn't in charge of this lineup, and truth be told I'm surprised I'm being asked to lead the mission. There is a reason why we're the ones chosen to have the first contact with this new species," you continue. "I, for one, couldn't have picked a finer group of men."

"Fine is right," Jin snickered.

Hoseok elbowed the man in the ribs. "Way to ruin the sentiment, dumbass."

"What? You said it yourself. We've handled plenty. I'm sure this isn't that bad. Most aliens are relatively peaceful," Jin shrugged. "This'll be a walk in the park."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that." Jimin's face is sour, analyzing the paperwork in front of him. "We can forget everything we know when it comes to them. It's a blank slate, and we'll have to improvise in any possible scenario. There's no telling what could happen."

"Agent P is right- for all we know they can wipe us out within a minute for no reason. And I don't just mean the EAA." You can hear the nervousness in your voice. "I know this isn't the most efficient of options, and the Head of Board would be pissed to know I'm even offering you this, but something about this doesn't rub me the right way. Agent C, don't you dare make a joke about that expression."

He shuts his trap immediately, the joke dying in his throat as he slumped back down in his chair.

You continue your speech. "If even one of you wishes to leave the mission, I'll allow it. I'll make sure you won't be forced into this, and though we aren't supposed to harbor distractions, the last thing I'd want for one of my friends to die before my eyes. You seven, even Yoongi despite the major piece of shit he is, are the closest to my heart. I've seen agent after agent die before my eyes, but I know if we all go on this mission, nothing would be the same. I can't bear to let a single one of you go, despite the fact I know all of you are more than capable of handling yourselves. However, I discourage any of you from participating and urge you to let me do this on my own."

Immediately, chaos ensued. The men erupted in anger, offense, and shock.

"You're kidding, right? Please tell me this is one of your practical jokes," Jimin pleaded, his eyes wide.

"This is extremely stupid, even for you, Agent Q," Yoongi said, finally fully alert as he deadpanned.

"No way are we letting you go on a mission by yourself, especially with the risks you listed." Hoseok shook his head.

Jin simply crossed his arms, fuming. "I'd think you knew us better than that, Q! We aren't cowards, we won't back down from this. You said it yourself, we're friends. Friends stick together."

"He's right. We care about you too, Y/N. We feel the exact same way, but it's more reason for us to stick together," Jungkook assured you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "I was trained by the best, so I know I can handle it. I'm confident the others can, too."

"You're not alone in this," Taehyung grinned, trying to provide a sense of comfort. "You'll always have us."

You felt your heart warm at their sentiments, but couldn't reveal your emotions that way just yet. Instead, with an expressionless face, you turn to Namjoon, whose opinion you valued above all. "Agent B?"

"I think the decision is pretty unanimous, Agent Q," Namjoon said, a small smile on his face as he gave you a soft pat on your arm. "You're not getting rid of us that easily."

Were you not a master of control, you would've wept. Instead, you let out a sigh, up to interpretation for relief or frustration. You stared up at the boys, all anticipating your response, strong and firm as they stood their ground against your disapproval.

"Looks like we've got a mission on our hands, then, gentlemen."

"Everyone's got their suitcases packed and ready?" you question, trying to project your voice over the sound of the other jets taking off outside.

Everyone had their own suitcase- civilian clothes or disguises besides the standard black and white suit and tie, adorned with sunglasses. Extra necessities that could possibly be used for your own specialty, in case you needed to improvise. Taehyung would have spare parts for weapons to make on the go, Yoongi had torture tools, Jin first aid and medical kits, etc. There was a memory wiper for everyone, as customary as the shades. Extra weapons were standard in the luggage, as well as a basic foreign phrases booklet. You wouldn't really need that one with Jimin around, though. But most importantly was a little pen, where if one were to bite down on the tip of it, they'd consume a lethal poison. They'd be dead before they even hit the floor.

"Yes, ma'am," everyone answered, suitcases by their side.

You pulled out a pen from your jacket pocket, clicking the top eight times, each of them shrinking to be no more than five inches. About the height of Tinkerbell. The pen worked simply, just click it for as many customary suitcases there were within the radius, and it'll grow or shrink.

"Remember, gentlemen, we're going to attempt friendly interaction and such first. Still, keep weapons in hand and trained, however. We don't want to take risks," you remind them, each of them giving you a curt nod in reply.

You huff, taking in a deep breath as you began to board the jet. Your destination would be a small island off the coast of Australia, near where a plane had crashed. That's where the foreign entities seemed to be residing now.

You felt shaky, but looking back at your men, all confident and assured, you couldn't help but feel a bit the same, as though the aura was contagious.

Hopefully, this'll work.

Your jet landed on shore, and you waited for the foreign entities. Guns cocked and loaded, all of you prepared yourselves, forming a defense circle with each barrel pointed outwards, your backs pressed against one another's.

You furrowed your brows as you tried to look for where the entities were. They were supposed to be here.

Before you knew it the water before you seemed to swallow in, as though it were falling down a deep, long tunnel, sinking below and falling. Not swirling, like a whirlpool. Just caving in as though a new crater was formed. Your jaw dropped as an airplane, having been abandoned for years prior, bubbled up to the surface.

A group of about six or more entities was atop the plane as it went to the surface, all completely dry. Finally, the plane seemed to come to a halt, bobbing along the surface, the creatures balancing atop it.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, your finger tense over the trigger with an urgency to shoot.

You didn't know why, but you suspected you were coming across one of the most powerful beings the world had ever known.

You studied them as the plane slowly floated closer to shore, letting them come into view. Their eyes were far bigger than a human's, unnaturally so. Their pupils seemed to be surrounded by tiny solar systems, a tiny dot within the pupil glowing bright orange, as though the sun. Their skin looked as though it were made of pure diamond, almost translucent, reflecting everywhere as the sun hit the water and bounced off of their skin, emitting rainbows wherever they moved. They dressed in robes of light silk that would protect whatever skin wasn't exposed from the blistering heat. Their hair seemed to be luscious and voluminous, cascading down and rippling in the golden light.

They were beautiful in a fascinating way, but when the head of the group went nearer, she smiled to reveal sharp teeth, you weren't so sure you'd call it beautiful by the end of this.

"So this is the tiny planet they call Earth, is it?" The voice sounded gravelly, deep, and feminine, reminding you of stones rolling down mountain tops, in a bizarre fashion. "Why is it so many venture to stay here?"

"Stay long enough and you may find out," you say, speaking formally.

She smiled, fluttering her long lashes, and you swore you could feel a soft breeze wash over you. Her bare foot stepped off the plane and onto the shore, her entourage following. You could smell a sort of perfume that reminded you of citrus, and oddly enough she became more enchanting to you, as though putting you in a trance. No, everything was entrancing to you. The sky began to seep more colors, as though hidden gems within were coming to light. Everything was slightly iridescent, as though you were in a surreal dream.

Was she a god?

She studied you for a moment. "Are you the ruler of this planet?"

"Only the men beside me," you say, quirking your mouth to the side. This was good- real good. So far no malicious intent had been established. Simply wonder and curiosity, and on both sides. "Are you of yours?"

Her face soured, teeth hidden as she pursed her lips. "Was," she notes. "Much like yourself, I only lead with my loyal followers. We've run from our home planet."

"You seek refuge?" You look to Namjoon, and he steps forward, briefcase in hand. "We have paperwork and such for you to fill out if you wish to reside here. We cannot promise to anything, of course, and the process will be far harder considering we've never come across your species. No wars will be brought to Earth, however, under any circumstances. If you're still on Earth and your government comes looking for you, you'll be asked to leave immediately. You cannot interact with humans outside of the Extraterrestrial Association Agency, and you'll be required to share any and all information about your species."

She quirked a perfectly arched brow. "You wish to study our kind?"

"Of course," Namjoon snorted, unable to prevent himself from interjecting. "It's essential to learn about all you can, and with a new species, we cannot let the opportunity pass. Knowledge is the key to life."

She turns her attention back to you, a pleased smile shown with her pointy teeth. "Your follower is very wise. Is he a royal advisor?"

"I'm by no means royalty. I'm just leading these men," you inform her, watching as a member of her entourage takes the briefcase to Namjoon. Namjoon steps back with the other boys, still keeping his aim at the group. "And you?"

"Me?" She chuckles softly at that, as though amused. "I'm a scientist. Though I'll allow you to call me Jashwi. "

You can't help but be caught off guard by that, your brows shooting up. "Scientist?"

"You Eartheans aren't the only ones to seek knowledge," Jashwi says, her voice like silk. "My group believes in obtaining knowledge by any means necessary."

"We have a few departments that are similar," you note, thinking to Yoongi's torture methods.

"Might I ask if you all can lower your weapons? It makes my rapture a bit anxious." Her tone is serene, but you can't help but stress over her words.

"Rapture?" you repeat.

Jashwi chuckles. "An inside joke. It refers to a group of messiahs. Truth be told it's a group that all have a telepathic bond with the leader, which would be me. A singular bond with me can be formed, and I can open the gates for them to also speak to others who I have a bond with. Something that you dirt dwellers would call a hive, I suppose, but not quite."

"What are your capabilities beyond telepathy?"

She thinks back on that, thoughtful. "My species, the Anancites as we call ourselves, typically doesn't have any abilities- we're as ordinary as you. A tiny bit more immortal, and it takes far more to even attempt to hurt us. It's only very few who possess a certain spark that can even acquire a power bestowed by the gods. Though that certain quality we're looking to find out. No ordinary civilian, even of our kind, can even attempt to try to form the telepathic bond we share.

"Besides that, there's been known cases of water manipulation, which is what I possess. Others may control other elements, such as fire or air or earth- whatever else you can come up with. A specialty, however, is shadow bending, though that's more so a skill you have to learn than luck."

"Shadow bending? We've got a few of those who deal with those sorts of things. Demons and ghosts, mainly."

She shakes her head with a haughty laugh, as though she found you to be a rather amusing mouse. Jashwi's large eyes looked to you with glimmering curiosity. "You dirt dwellers hardly know anything, do you? So much for searching for knowledge. Shadow bending for us is to kill one's shadow. The shadow is where the soul resides, as both sides have to share it. You kill the shadow, you kill the person. It's something that many wish to learn where I live, for it's a skill so rare that one who possesses it immediately goes to the castle to live a life of luxury. What is it some of you call it? Ah, yes. It's to the same standard of Nirvana for some."

"Is that what you'll list as your weakness?" You could hear the soft shutter of the lens camera through someone's contact, a sound you had gotten accustomed to since your time at the agency. Based on the positioning of the sound behind you, you assumed it was Jungkook who took it upon himself to record the encounter for further documentation.

She shrugs, as though you were a small ant that had pinched her ankle, and she was a god. Unbothered and uncaring. "I suppose it'd only be fair. Blood bags such as you have far too many."

"What is it you consume?"

"We are by no means parasitic," Jashwi says demurely. "Our feeding is beneficial for both. Most species seem to need sustenance in harmful ways. Vampires drain lifeforce through drinking blood. Succubi drain lifeforce through sex. They only leave enough for them to regain strength for the next feeding, leaving an endless cycle only to serve one person's needs. No, we do not focus on selfish desires such as that. Nothing is for only one, but always for many, as it should be. I'll leave the question blank for now- you'll find out soon enough. Shall we move on?"

"And are you related to any other species?" You thought to the top of your head, trying to find something similar to them. You found nothing, truthfully, but it was worth a shot. "Sirens? Banshees? Vampires?"

She pulled the sour face again, scowling. "We choose not to interact with their kind, as they've proven themselves to be insufficient."

"Insufficient?" you muttered to yourself.

"Of course," she only said, her smile wide to reveal the sharp teeth. "And if there's one thing a true scientist hates, it's insufficiency."

"Might you state your reasoning for coming to Earth? Refuge? Vacation? Migration?"

She steps forward, inches before you. You hitch your breath as you feel all of the guns behind you point to her, her body towering over your smaller one. You'd most likely act as an 'insufficient' shield from the bullets.

"Didn't I ask for you to lower this?" She puts a single finger on the gun, lowering it so that it pointed to the floor whilst still being in your hands. "My rapture's still very anxious about my safety."

"Why are you here?" you repeat, voice hard.

She cocks her head to the side, lifting your chin with a single finger, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes take up perhaps most of the upper half of her head, and as you stare into her eyes, you see an entire universe is trapped in there. Spinning planets and moons and suns, orbiting around one another as though a digital map of her home.

Jashwi hums, staring into your eyes intently, too. You didn't have to turn around to know the boys were waiting for the signal from you to shoot.

"Do you recall when I told you about going to any means necessary for knowledge?"

"I do."

"Just making sure." You feel her fresh breath on your lips as she says that, and she lets you go. You stagger back and land on your ass, air slamming into your lungs as you realize that you were holding your breath that entire time.

"Might I speak to this one? The big one with the cute eyes," she questions.

Your eyes widen as you look to Jungkook, who seems just as shocked as you.

"Jungkook, y-"

"It's alright," he hastily cuts off, pushing past the others, gun still raised as he approaches her.

She holds his chin for a moment, examining his face as she turns it from side to side, her touch gentle. Jashwi then looks at his biceps, her touch cool as she traces the muscle beneath the nicely fitted suit.

"Would you describe yourself as strong, my boy?"

"I suppose," he says, his jaw ticked as he looked at her with a stony expression.

Jashwi looks over to your boys, quirking a brow. "Is he the strongest out of your group?"

There was no doubt about that. Warily, they nod.

She sighs, running her tongue along the inside of her cheek. "I suppose you'll have to do, then, little boy."

Her mouth opens wide, her entire face splitting in two, her jaw becoming unhinged as her mouth opened wider and wider. It was something like a bear trap, but far more terrifying. She had three sets of teeth, as though she were a shark.

Her grip on his chin was ironclad, keeping him in place and turning it to the side, as though to leave the neck exposed. Bullets fire at her carefully aimed to avoid Jungkook's writhing body as he struggles in her grip. The bullets simply embed themselves halfway inside of her, cracking some of the skin, as though she were a marble palace that refused to fall. At this point her rapture began to fight back, moving towards the men as they got more guns and blasters, testing everything they could for the creatures' limits.

Without thinking you're on your feet, slamming your body as hard as you could against Jungkook's bulky form. If he were stable on his feet, you would've uselessly bounced back to crash to the floor. Instead, he was knocked down, and before you could fall with him you're grabbed by the throat.

Jashwi doesn't bother to do so much as sneer at you, instead seeming disappointed. "I would've assumed a leader would understand better than her follower."

She raises you above her head, and you kick and thrash, her long limbs hoisting you far enough where you couldn't reach her. You could feel your face reddening fast. At this rate, you'll die.

Jashwi seems to sense that, as well as the urgency of the battle behind her. One of her men falls, Hoseok's blaster steaming after the newest hit. The body evaporated in the sun, as though it were water boiling into steam.

"Shoot the shadows! The little rainbows- now!"

Jashwi tenses, cursing under her breath as she tosses you up like a ragdoll, snatching you by your hair to allow airflow into your lungs.

"I guess you'll just have to do, won't you?" she says. "Don't disappoint me, little dirt dweller."

With that, she sinks her teeth into your jugular, and you can't even scream. She sinks all three sets of teeth into your throat, clamping down until she rips away, throwing the chunks of flesh out on the floor. Your head is barely kept together save for a bit of muscle, though there's still a gaping spot where flesh should be.

Your eyes were lifeless as your corpse hit the floor, blood everywhere as your body let it seep from the wound, running like a stream.

Jungkook still had most of the wind knocked out of him, all of it happening so fast. All he could do was watch as your body continued to bleed out before him, surrounded by nothing but blood, flesh, and chaos.

He can't help but crawl on his knees towards you, blasters and rays and more flying overhead. His eyes are fixed on your body, shock making him feel cold and numb.

No, you weren't dead. You couldn't be.

You couldn't be.

He didn't even have time to process it before Yoongi was yanking him by the bicep, putting him to his feet and shoving the blaster that had been knocked off of him into his hand. Yoongi gritted his teeth, glaring at the boy, eyes glassy. "Avenge her goddammit!"

He shoves the boy away as he aims once again at a moving shadow of one of the Acancites. It dodges the blasts, dancing around it. Jashwi hopped upon the plane, and soon enough the others wordlessly followed her, still dodging the blasts.

The crater formed again, the water parting as the rubble of the plane sank into the water, the crater resealing itself back up, the plane disappearing.

"Come back and fight, cowards!"

Taehyung enraged, fuming as he blasts into the water, watching the bright beam disappear down, down below, never to be seen again. He continues, over and over again, hot tears rolling his cheeks as he lets out whines and whimpers, his arms shaking.

"Agent V... Taehyung." Jin steps forward, pushing his arms down, ceasing the constant roll of blasts. Jin looks at the boy, who already seemed to be grieving whereas everyone else was still in shock. "Stop."

"They fucking killed her! She-" Taehyung looked back to your corpse but was unable to bear the sight. Every agent had seen a mangled body, but something about it made him want to throw up and never consume anything again. He choked on his tears, shaking. "She can't be dead, right? Y/N can't be dead. Not her, anyone but her."

He starts breathing heavily, shaking from head to foot, and Jin moves him away from the water, sitting him down where he wouldn't have to see you. Not that it helped. He could smell your blood everywhere, the smell consuming him completely. Perhaps your corpse was already beginning to rot beneath the hot beating sun.

"Guys, he's having a panic attack. Step back."

Taehyung wrapped himself into a tight ball, hugging his knees as his weapon clattered to the ground. He felt so pathetic. He felt so useless. All he could do was rock back and forth, heart pounding in his ears as he let out a cold sweat, anxiety and dread coursing through him.

What's done is done. What's done is done. What's done is done.

No. No no no no no no NO!

You weren't dead. You can't be. Not you. You were the best goddamn agent he knew, you couldn't be dead.

"Breathe, Taehyung. Deep breaths. Close your eyes, clear your head," Jin reminded him. "You need to breathe."

He did his best, taking in deep breaths, crying as he did so. He wanted this to end. All of this. He hated this feeling. He hated every bit of it.

"This is my fault," Jungkook said, staring at the elder man as the panic attack began to subside after a few minutes. "It's all my fault."

"No, it's not. No one knew what would've happened." Jimin was in such a state of shock as well, unable to even cry. He couldn't process any of what had happened.

"It should've been me. In the end, I was so stupid. If I had done something else, anything else-"

"You're having survivor's guilt-"

"Y/N should be standing here. Not me." He looked to your corpse, feeling sick to his stomach. "I should be that right now. I went up to Jashwi, and then refused my leader's orders when she tried to warn me. If I hadn't done that none of this would've happened..."

"It was an honest mistake."

"This one cost someone their life," Jungkook cut in sharply. He took in a deep breath. "This is all my fault."

"We need to stop wallowing in our pity and go find the sick bastards," Hoseok interjected. "What're we waiting for? Why don't we just dive in after them?"

"Agent A..." Jimin trails off, his voice wary.

"No, don't you 'Agent A' me. It's Hoseok. We're friends. That's the last thing she said, right? We're friends. Not just coworkers." Hoseok stared down at the water bitterly. "And friends don't let other friends die in vain. She was the closest thing I had to family, and now that's taken away, too."

"We can't rush into things without thinking rationally," Namjoon reminded him.

"Fuck rationality! They just killed my best friend, and I'll kill the sick sons of bitches myself if I have to!" Hoseok shoved Namjoon's comforting touch off of him, flinching away, boiling. "What're you going to say to change my mind?"

Namjoon's gaze softened. "Are we really just going to leave Y/N here? Are we going to abandon her? In the heat?"

Everyone quieted down at that, lowering their gazes in shame. Perhaps some of them were being too self-focused on their own misery.

"We should get her home," Yoongi says, sucking in a shaky breath. He leans forward, using his sleeve to clean your face a bit, wiping away the blood so they could see your face clearly. "It's the least she deserves, and she... she deserved... Well, she deserves more than this." His voice cracked mid-sentence as he tried to choke back tears. Despite how often he'd tell you he hated you or how you annoyed him or to leave him alone... He didn't mean any of it. He just wished he made sure you knew that. Now it was too late.

Taehyung's quiet, trying to force himself to look at you. Never had he seen you with such a blank expression. With a shaky hand, he pushes some hair out of your face, lips trembling.

"She deserved the world."

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strangerivy · 5 years

Text

The Beginning - Seven

Summary: Scott informs Kacy of some information on his outing to Derek’s the night before that puts her in a sour mood and when things start to brighten up Derek shows up on campus knocking on death's door. Warnings: Swearing | Violent Depictions Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Kacy) Genre: 18+ | Fluff Word Count: 2k Author’s Note: As always friends, let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the tag list for future chapters, let me know!

|| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Masterlist ||

My alarm went off and I woke up feeling more awake and carefree than I have felt in weeks. I turned my radio on a little louder dancing around before going into the shower. I was drying my hair went Scott walked into my room looking a little dazed. I tilted my head questioning him through the mirror.

“You okay?” He looked up from the floor and I could tell he was deciding whether to tell me something or not. I turned my hairdryer off turning to face him. “Scott just tell me” I sighed I guess the overly good mood couldn’t last long.

“The other night, when I went to Derek’s,” He walked over sitting on my bed across from me, “He wasn’t the one who turned us,” I furrowed my eyebrows confused

“That would mean there’s another werewolf,” I mumbled I stood up walking over to the window staring out of it trying to process what this meant.

“Yeah, and he said it was an Alpha,” I looked over at him and he sighed “He also thinks, the Alpha doesn’t know it turned you and that’s why- “

“That’s why nothing crazy is happening to me, just you.” I finished for him; I shook my head not wanting to deal with any of this right now. I quickly walked to my bedroom door grabbing my backpack off the ground, Scott was quickly next to me stopping me from walking out the door knowing I was trying to avoid the conversation further.

“That’s not all Kac,” I looked at him behind my lashes not wanting to look at him fully “Last night I went out after hearing a howl and I saw Allison’s dad with a woman, and she shot Derek.” I turned my head looking at him now my eyes going wide.

“Is he dead?” I asked just barely above a whisper and he shook his head and I let out a sigh of relief, I raised my hand for him to stop talking. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“We’re going to be late,” I muttered before quickly leaving and going outside getting on my bike and heading to the school. I adjust the straps of my backpack once I got to school, Scott was right behind me rushing to get off to catch up with me.

“Kac, wait!” I heard him hear a clash but walking off choosing to ignore it, “Kac!”

“Why hello there, Beautiful,” Stiles greeted walking up to me I glared at him and he raised his hands “Or not?” I sighed walking past him going into the school. I sat down in first period pulling out my books, but I couldn’t focus.

What Scott had learned really bugged me. I was accidentally turned. NONE of this should be happening to me. Granted none of this should be happening to either of us but… I couldn’t help the anger I felt towards this alpha.

I took a deep breath trying to calm myself looking around at the full classroom. This was no place for an accident. I felt my heart begin to slow down and my body starts to relax. I kept to myself most of the day, sitting away from Scott and Stiles at lunch. I noticed Stiles looking over at me every few minutes, but I avoided his gaze. It wasn’t till the end of the day that I spoke to them again.

“Kacy wait up,” I looked over my shoulder to see Stiles jogging up to me. I slowed down my pace waiting for him to catch up. He caught up finally breathing a little heavily causing me to smirk. The time by myself had improved my mood for the time being.

“Too much physical activity for ya?” He looked up at me and shook his head with a grin.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride home,” He offered, I looked at him curiously but followed him anyway with a soft smile and slight blush creeping up on my cheeks. He waited for me to unchain my bike helping me load it onto the jeep. I got in the passenger side staring out the window, Stiles backed up from his parking spot and went to drive out but hit his breaks suddenly jerking us forward pulling my attention to the front.

“Is that?” I questioned staring at the familiar face looking over at Stiles who looked freak out. Shit. Derek suddenly collapsed in the middle of the parking lot. Scott ran up

“What the hell?” He said passing Stiles open window. Horns started going off behind us. Stiles put the car in park getting out to help Scott. I got out as well to see what was going. I kneeled next to Scott getting a good look at Derek, he was pale and breathing heavily.

“I got shot,” Derek grimaced

“Why aren’t you healing?” Scott asked looking at Derek confused

“I can’t, it was a different kind of bullet.” Derek panted

“A silver bullet?” Stiles question, Derek rolled his eyes at least still had his sass.

“No, you idiot,”

“Wait,” Scott said, I looked over at him

“What is it?” I whispered eye Scott curiously

“That’s what she meant, that you had 48 hours,” He muttered looking at Derek

“Who said 48 hours?” Derek asked

“Who shot you,” Scott answered, with that something trigged in Derek his eyes flashed blue and his body tensed up from the pain. I moved quickly grabbing Derek’s arm pulling it around my shoulder to help him up.

“We have to move,” I muttered helping Derek to Stiles car. Stiles sighed clearly annoyed and I shot him a look telling him to knock it off. I got Derek in the seat buckling him before shutting the door walking over to Stiles. Scott walked over to Derek talking to him.

I climbed into the backseat and Stiles got in.

“Get him out of here,” Scott said, Stiles shook his head and we drove off Stiles clearly annoyed of the situation. Stiles tried to call Scott after 15 mins and sent him a text asking if he had found the bullet, but he hadn’t yet. Stiles dropped his phone in frustration pulling the car over.

“I think he needs more than 15 minutes Stiles,” I muttered he glared at me through the rearview mirror and I just shrugged my shoulders.

“What happens if Scott doesn’t find your little magic bullet?” Stiles turned to face Derek yelling at him “Are you dying?”

“Not yet, I have a last resort,” Derek said, he pulled up his sleeve revealing a still bleeding bullet wound. I grimaced the smell hitting me.

“Oh god,” I mumbled scooting towards Stiles window “That smells awful Derek,” I muttered pulling my sleeve down to cover my nose and mouth. The smell was potent, like rotting flesh and death.

“Is that contagious? Maybe you should just get out?” Stiles said disgusted at the sight of the wound as well.

“Start the car, now” was all Derek said completely ignoring Stiles's questions.

“You know, I don’t think you should be barking order with the way you look,” stiles voice raised a few “In fact, if I wanted too, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out of the car into the middle of the street and leave you for dead.”

“Stiles!” I scolded

“What!” he turned to face me

“We don’t do that!”

“look,” We both turned to look at Derek, “Start the car or I will rip your throat out. With my teeth.” Stiles sighed turning in his seat starting the car not wanting to test Derek’s threat.

“So, you scold me and not him,” Stiles pouted after a few minutes of silence.

“Dude have you seen him, he’s terrifying,” I mumbled back and I saw Derek’s mouth twitch as he tried to hide a smile. “Even if he is half dead.”

“Where are we going to go?” Stiles asked I shook my head not having an answer for him.

“Just drive around, I guess” I laid down across the backseat, I closed my eyes feel the car start to move. I smirked get more comfortable slowly falling asleep listening to the radio.

I was jerked awake and I quickly shot up in a panic, I looked around seeing both Derek and Stiles staring at me. I began to relax seeing them both still alive.

“What?” I asked with yawn stretching out my arms and legs as far as I could. “Did Scott find the bullet?”

“Unfortunately for us, no,” Stiles replied clearly still annoyed but I could tell he was a bit more relaxed than from earlier in the day, I looked at him confused before noticing that it was now dark outside, and we were pulled over under a street light. I looked over at Derek and saying he looked like death was putting it lightly.

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” I asked looking back over to Stiles, he sighed running his hand through his hair.

“Scott wants us to go to the vet.” He answered starting the jeep and pulling onto the road heading in the direction to the vet. I sat back in my seat staring out into the window watching the streetlights pass by. It didn’t take long to get to the vet and the jerk of the jeep coming to a stop pulled me out of my head. Stiles moved his seat helping me out of the back, once out I went over to Derek’s side opening the door and he almost falls out, I quickly caught him draping his good arm around my shoulder helping him out.

Once I got him onto his feet, he was a bit easier to support. Stiles went over to the dumpster grabbing a key and going over and unlock the back door. Derek and I hobbled over and he was already starting to take his shirt off.

“Christ Derek, can’t you wait till we're at least inside?” I grumbled rolling my eyes, he only had the energy to shoot me a glare before moving over to the exam table leaning against it his shirt completely off now and tossed to the side. We could get a clear view now of the wound, the veins surrounding the wound a dark black color.

“You know, that really doesn’t look like anything some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn’t fix,” I looked up at Stiles who looked like he was going to be sick. I shook my head turning my attention back to Derek.

“If the infection reaches my heart, it’ll kill me.” Derek breathed out, taking very heavy breaths it was clear he was weakening and fast. He turned to the cabinets along the wall starting to search them for something.

“Positivity just isn’t in your vocabulary, isn’t it?” I elbowed Stiles and he winced grabbing his side giving a small frown.

“This doesn’t look like a positive situation to you, does it?” I asked him gesturing to the dying Derek.

“Oh, please tell me he’s not turning you into some downer,” Stiles asked turning to face me completely and I couldn’t help but hear a bit of jealousy in his voice or maybe, that’s what I at least hoped it was.

“Stiles, what is your deal?” I asked in annoyance, he stared at me in disbelief

“What’s my problem? What’s yours?” He argued back, I scrunched my eyebrows giving him a confused expression not understanding what he could be talking about

“What do you mean what’s my problem?” I asked crossing my arms over my chest completely forgetting about the predicament we were in right now.

“You’ve been defending this guy left, and right? How can you trust him?” He accused, my mouth dropped open and I quickly closed it taking a step forward jabbing a finger into his chest and right as I went to speak.

“Hey lovebirds!” Derek yelled grabbing our attention, we both quickly turned our heads to see Derek holding a bone saw and I felt the blood drain from my face.

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@criminalyetminimal @itshouldbe @sammypotato67 @capandbuck

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinksi imagine #Stiles #Stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles imagine #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf imagine #Scott McCall #derek hale

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

Text

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 12

Episode 12 - “One is All, All is One” We open with whoawhoawhoa it’s Beardy from the intro. Papa Elric? Do we finally get backstory on Absent Dad this episode?

Beardy doesn’t look happy about something. And Ed wakes up in shock. More points towards it being Papa Elric, and also it not being the healthiest of families. But hey, this is anime, good luck finding any Protagonist families without Drama. Al says they’re almost at Dublith, asks if Ed was having a bad dream. Then stays oddly quiet when Ed says it was about ‘him’. Jeez, what’s with this guy? In town, both boys are very unenthusiastic about seeing Teacher again. And now the screens suddenly shaking, the door creaks open ominously gah bloody knife what the Oh dear. A very very big man has just stepped outside. Seriously, this guy looks like he could give Armstrong himself a run for his money. [Ed]: “Um… hello, Sig.” [Al]: “Long time no see.” Ah, a butcher! Got it. He’s rather chill about seeing the Elrics after so long, just patting them on the head and commenting on how they’ve grown (and can I just say how it’s adorable for the Giant Fanged Suit of Armor to be happy about having his head rubbed? Daw.) Sig pokes his head through a window, tells “Izumi” that the “Elric Shrimps” have come for a visit, she puts down an Alchemy book and says that she’s feeling a little better today. You’re right Al, that doesn’t sound good. What’s wrong with Teacher? Oh. Oh dear. Ed just got done kicked in the face across the street. I believe I have a good read on Teach, now.

To menacing music, McKickyFace steps outside, looking down on Ed with shadowed face and glowing red eyes. [McKickyFace]: “Hello, my stupid pupil! I hear you’ve become one of the military’s dogs!” And then the creaky door betrays Al’s hiding spot, she turns… and Al’s cuteness factor is unstoppable, McKickyFace instantly transforms to Izumi, commenting on how Al has grown. Aw, that’s nope never mind just a ruse to easily throw Al to the dirt. Jeez, for someone “not feeling well” you’re tossing these chumps around like ah that’s blood. No Teach, I don’t think you’re “perfectly fine.” Sig tells her not to exert herself and oh they’re married. One, that’s adorable, and two, ok that explains why they went to Sig. But above all else that’s adorable. Also funny how their love is so overpowering that Ed’s just standing there unnerved, getting bumped in the head by floating hearts. Inside, the four are sitting around a table, the conversation as typical being about the Philosopher’s Stone. Teacher doesn’t know much about it though, says it doesn’t hold much interest for her. Why’s that, do you know the secret or just have that much faith in your own abilities? Sig contributes that there was one guy in Central who knew about it. A guy called Hohenheim? Whoa Ed what’s wrong? And Al, do you recognize it too? Ah, image of Beardy! Teacher asks why the reaction to the name, Al confirms that it is indeed Papa Elric. Who “ran out” on them when they were little? Damnit man, why do you have to perpetuate the trope of Absent Anime Father? Flashback! Mama and Papa Elric are standing at the door, Baby!Ed and Baby!Al happened to be up early in the morning. Mama’s of course all over her children, but Papa Elric… just glares down at Ed, that’s the only description I can use for that look. Then he turns without a word, and walks out the door. ...seriously? Dude, dick move. So Mama Elric did say later that Papa left, but not with any finality. Then we get various scenes of Mama Elric and the Babies being cute, until… Mama Elric collapsed on the floor. Back in the present, with Ed still lost in Flashback-Land, Ed asks if Papa Elric had said anything about the Stone. Teacher says it was something about a life-long dream coming true. Even happy when he said it. Then she gets up, punches Ed out his sulk, and says that they’re going to eat.

At the dinner, Sig offers Al some food… uh oh. Have the Brother’s really not explained about Al’s state? Wow, really subtle attempt to change the subject to the last episode there Ed. I can tell Sig’s not buying it, he just looks to Izumi drinking her tea. Another flashback? A big storm in their hometown, the young Elrics are looking down with the other townsfolk as men try to keep a sandbag barrier holding against a flood. The wall’s breaking, everyone’s pulling back- except for Teacher, who’s striding past them as the epic string music picks up. With a clap of her hands (ooh, so Ed picked up on not using TCs from her!), she earthbends a bunch of walls up to hold back the river. And then Sweetie Sig walks over with an umbrella as she turns to the crowd. Who don’t recognize her? Ah right, a passerby, she lives in Dublith after all. And then she vomits blood again. Oh dear. Ah, so the boys were too short to see the blood this first time, all they saw was someone being Awesome and Saving The Town. So of course they run up and ask her to be their teacher. Buuut maybe don’t call her “Old Lady”. She refuses at first, she doesn’t teach and she’s just passing through, but when she’s told that they two boys clinging to her arm are orphans? [Pretty Lady]: “How am I supposed to say no to that?” And now for the first lesson: apparently, getting dropped off on an island and left to fend for themselves. Without any alchemy, even. Lady, I have to question your teaching methods.

Titledrop! “One is all… and all is one.” They have- one month?! Good Leto woman, you’re leaving them on their own for a freaking month? Yeah, the boy’s aren’t doing too well their first night. Trying (and failing) to sleep on some palm leaves, stomach’s rumbling. A lesson in wilderness survivalism, then? Ad-break picture of Sig and Izumi looking ready for a fight, shows last name of ‘Curtis’. So what’s their story? Sig seems to be working away as a butcher, a proper butcher unlike a certain Pudgy we’ve met before. But what about Izumi? Where did she get her training, and learn how to do non-TC Alchemy? Aaand where the first picture was of them looking tough, the second is of Big Tough Sig fanning his blood-spitting wife. Lady, maybe you should get that looked at. Oh, show’s answering my question already, apparently they work the butcher shop together. Sig’s wondering if they’re doing alright, Izumi stands by her lesson as being the best way to learn the essentials of alchemy. The same way she was taught, even. Casual throw of sharpened knife to Sig who does a two-finger catch (making me wonder if he has any training?), Big Butcher says he’s more concerned about their lives being in danger. Izumi scoffs, saying her training began with fighting bears for a whole month in the mountains. In winter, no less! ...couldn’t help but notice that you look a bit older that the Elrics in that picture, Izumi. On the island itself, the Brothers have just caught a rabbit in a snare! However, it leaves them with a live rabbit, so they’ll have to kill it themse- Oh that is just not fair. Rabbit’s going full Cute Anime Mode to avoid being dinner. The Brothers are playing Hot Potato with the knife to avoid using it. Until a passing fox takes advantage of the easy meal, and runs off with the rabbit. But look! The fox took the rabbit to feed its cubs! Aw, that’s sweet. Then the cubs start eating, and the Brother’s quickly decide to try fish instead. Yep, kinda hard to fish without rods. Maybe you can carve a spear? Or just build a lean-to, and go without food for a few more days. Yeesh, Ed’s not doing too well. Had a moment where he hallucinated Al as food and chomped, and now is alternating between nomming on ants and screaming about how gross they are. Oh, turning point! Ed’s talking about how he’s alive because he ate the ants. Um, no? I seriously doubt those few bugs gave you enough calories to make up for a few days foodless. Or rather it’s a metaphorical thing, how Ed’s alive because he consumed life. And then I guess he resolves that if he’s going to eat life to live, and by Leto he’s going to be at the top of the food chain! Cue montage of the Brothers going all Lord of the Flies, fashioning tools, chasing down a rabbit and killing it before a passing fox this time, starting a fire. They even get to the point that they toss some cooked food to the fox cubs in passing. Finally, it’s the night before Teacher’s to come back. Al asks Ed if he’s figured out what she meant by “One is all, and all is one.” Ed confirms that after he ate the ants, he thought his body feeding the ants, going to earth and becoming grass that the rabbits would eat... ...if I wasn’t doing a Professor Moody theme this episode, this would be a perfect spot for a Lion King gif. So yeah, Ed thought about the food chain. But also the island, how long ago it was under water, and thousands of years from now it could be the top of a mountain. It’s an “all things are connected” lesson, how in the span of the cosmos even our Main Characters are smaller than ants are to them. Test time! Teacher arrives and asks for their answer. [Al]: “All is one!” [Ed]: “And one is me!” Teacher… bursts out laughing? But she accepts the answer, and says the real training starts now. Now in Dublith, Teach is casually reading a cookbook while she lectures about TCs as the basis of Alchemy and absently spars with the Brothers. Sick moves lady, her technique seems to be all about deflecting and redirecting their attacks. That’s Judo, I think? Reviewing the lesson, Al calls her out on not using TCs when she casts, they ask how she does it. Teacher says something cryptic about herself being the matrix, that it might be something they learn if they see the truth. Wait… truth, or ‘Truth’? And yup, Ed wakes up with a realization: Teacher has seen the truth too. The next day, the Brothers are meeting with Teacher in the front yard, presumably to ask her. But she suddenly Alchemizes a spear from the wall, strikes out at Ed who has to TC-less change his arm to a blade in defense. That, on top of Al being armor and Ed missing two limbs confirms it for her: Edward’s seen it too. Which begs the question: how did Izumi see the Truth? Did she try Human Transmutation too? Yep, she did. And the rebound struck her… stomach. And in the center… Ah. That’s who she was trying to bring back. Izumi confirms the sad tale, why she committed the taboo. And when she says that it must have been awful for them, the Elrics adopt their customary bravado about it. ‘Not a big deal’, Al’s got his list of stuff to do, ect ect... [Izumi]: “You darling little idiots. It’s ok to hurt.” ... [Ed]: “Forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry, Teacher.” [Ed]: “Please forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry.” [Ed]: “Please forgive us.” [Al]: “We’re so sorry.” Flashback to the island, the young brothers expounding on living being the deconstruction and reconstruction of old life to new life [Ed]: “Alchemy is part of that flow. And the flow is life itself.” End-credits. Oof. Started out as a mostly amusing episode, was mostly looking for details on Absent Papa Elric. But nope, Brotherhood continues to be brutal to my emotions.

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 12

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olicity-fanwork-exchange · 5 years

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Broken Bones And Porcelain Dolls

This one is for Jesse, @spaztronautwriter. I have always loved your stories and I am so grateful that you share them with us. This is no way as good as your original fic Broken Bones Lead Me to You but I hope you’ll have fun reading it all the same.

From: @tangled23works

Rating : Teen

Archive Warnings : No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship : Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Mia Smoak/Connor Hawke

Characters : Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak, Mia Smoak, Connor Hawke, William Clayton

Additional Tags : Future Fic

Words : 3896

Sick people made a lot of noise.

As someone who had been blessed with excellent health, Mia had never noticed it before. The last time she had visited Starling Memorial she had been too young to pay attention to the smell of disinfectant and constant groaning around her.

A man in a red hoodie that reminded her of an old photo of her Uncle Roy was brooding in the corner while a young girl with spiky black hair wearing a leather jacket was threatening the nurse with bodily harm if they didn’t treat his injuries soon. Mia couldn’t actually see an injury but she supposed that people got hurt in amentionable locations all the time. An older guy - she had made sure to stay far away from that one because she could feel his creepy eyes following her - was complaining constantly about inefficient nurses and female doctors. If Mia’s Mom was there she would have donated this slimy dude’s money to Greenpeace in a heartbeat.

“Mia?”

She looked up to find her older brother with a sad look on his face that could only be described as contrition.

“I’m sorry but the nurse said this is gonna take a while.”

“It’s fine, Will.”

Her brother sighed as if he knew she was lying and sat next to her. The plastic chairs weren’t exactly comfortable but the place had been so crowded that Will had been forced to stand at least for an hour while they were waiting.

Mia turned towards him. In all the years she had known Will, she had never seen him look like that. She had been about five years old when a trip to Central City had revealed that her father had another kid. Things had never been the same after that. But despite all the sibling rivalry, Mia wouldn’t trade her older brother for the world.

She leaned on him. “Remember the last time we were here?”

Will closed his eyes. “Yes.”

She could hear the smile in his voice. “Lucas was screaming the place down. Our parents were afraid that the nurses would kick us out.”

Will chuckled. “Felicity always said that you were so quiet. It was so easy to keep you happy. You were fine as long as your belly was full. I think Lucas surprised them. They hadn’t expected a baby to be so loud and demanding.”

“And now, he’s the best of us. Always zen and shit.”

The old lady in the next seat shoot her a reproving glance.

“Mia Smoak Queen. Don’t make me call your mom.”

Mia stuck her tongue out. “You wouldn’t dare. Because then I would have to tell her we’re in the emergency room. And she would want to know why,” she threatened in a singsong voice.

Will blanched at the reminder. “Shit, Mia. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, young man!” the old lady chided.

“Sorry, Ma’am. I’m so worried for my sister. She’s in excruciating pain.”

He grabbed Mia’s hand and pointed to her dislocated thumb. The sight made the old lady shudder. She nodded accepting Will’s apology and promptly turned the other way.

Mia tried to suppress a laugh and failed. “Aren’t you laying it on a bit thick? I have dislocated my thumb plenty of times before.”

“First of all, shush. And second, we all know you’re a badass,” he whispered the word, afraid that the lady was still listening to their conversation, “but you can’t know for sure it’s dislocated. It looks broken to me.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”

“Shut up. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, Will. And it’s not Addie’s fault either.”

Will rubbed his thumb and forefinger in a nervous gesture that reminded Mia of their father. She had told him plenty of times that the whole thing was a stupid accident but her stubborn brother refused to believe her.

It had all started with a text message. Mia had been hanging with Will at Queen Inc. when her brother’s husband had to leave for Central City in a hurry. Josh was a reporter and he had been following a story about some guy who kept running around dressed in a red suit pretending to be a superhero. What the police hadn’t anticipated was that the guy had unknowingly stumbled onto a human trafficking cartel and had even managed to get photos of their operation. Josh had sources all over the country so when one of them called and said that the CCPD was about to make an arrest, he had been forced to leave Addie in a hurry and catch the first train to Central City.

“Wanna hang out with me and Addie tonight?” Will had asked her. “I’ll even let you guys play that ancient video game that Felicity loves so much.”

They had left QI and after picking up four different kinds of ice-cream (in order to appease Addie), they rushed to Will and Josh’s home to spend a quiet night in with her niece. Josh warned them that Addie was in a bad mood because her Daddy was leaving but they didn’t listen. After all, they were both grown ups, perfectly capable of taking care of a grumpy four-year-old, right?

Little did they know how wrong they were…

At first Addie had been pleased to see them but that had quickly changed when she realized that she still had to say goodbye to one of her parents. She had stomped her foot and refused to eat her dinner. Will had to ply her with ice-cream even though Josh had told Mia repeatedly that giving sugar to Addie when she was having a temper tantrum was a recipe for disaster.

Addie on a sugar high was not a pretty sight. She had climbed every possible surface, she had stormed the bedroom and pretended to be a pirate called Slade Wilson, she had opened every single cupboard and thrown pots, pans and other kitchen utensils on the floor. Then she had decided to jump down from the oak China cabinet yelling “You have failed this city!” at the top of her lungs; which of course was the moment when Mia decided it was time to intervene. She tried to catch her niece mid-air but instead Addie’s little foot managed to kick her right hand at a weird angle dislocating her thumb. It hurt like a bitch despite what she had told Will but she had reigned it in so as not to scare the baby.

“How’s the munchkin?” she asked as she remembered Addie’s inconsolable cries when she had noticed her favorite aunt’s injury.

“She’s fine. You know she loves spending time with Josh’s parents.” Will’s leg jumped restlessly. “I really hate it that you got hurt, Mimi.”

Mia scoffed. She had never liked that nickname but the more she protested against it, the more Will used it. Plus, she couldn’t stand her brother’s guilt-ridden face any longer. “You know what I would like to have?”

“What?” Will asked, willing to help in any way he could.

“Can you get me some ice? It’ll help with the swelling.”

Will jumped up from his seat before she could finish her sentence. Mia leaned back and closed her eyes trying to relax. It had been a really long day and she couldn’t wait to go home. She didn’t open them again until she felt someone take the seat beside her. A glance to her right told her that it was not her brother.

A guy was now sitting next to her. She supposed he was what her grandma Donna would call “Hot with a capital H” if not for the fact that his nose was broken. Chocolate skin, tall, athletic wearing a pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt. He was trying to fill in a hospital form but it was obvious from the way he was squinting that he couldn’t see very well.

“Excuse me,” she said after a minute of watching him struggle, “do you need some help?”

The hot guy dismissed her offer without even looking up. “It’s fine. Thank you, though.”

Mia shrugged and was about to turn away when he raised his head and noticed her. He scrutinized her from the top of her blonde hair to the bottom of her shoes. Mia decided it would be a good idea to try again. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

He went on the defensive. “And how would you help? Your thumb’s broken.”

“For your information, it’s not broken. Just dislocated. And I could read the questions for you so that you don’t have to squint like a knitting grandma but whatever.”

Hot guy sighed in defeat. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” she said and looked at the form. He had filled in his name and phone number in neat handwriting. “Okay, so next question is the reason why you’re here.”

“Apart from the broken nose? My pride has taken a hit but this is not something the doctors can fix.” He wrote down the medically relevant answer.

Mia examined him closely. She didn’t understand what he meant with that comment about his pride. Unless he had gotten into a brawl and lost. “What happened? Did you get into a fistfight?”

“I wish.”

“You wish you were in a fistfight?”

“Being injured in a fight would be more manly,” he grumbled.

Mia couldn’t help but smile at the admission.

After much internal debate, he said quietly, “Actually, something fell on my face.”

She moved closer. “What was it?”

“I’d prefer not to say.”

“You have to! I have to know. Mysteries bug me, hot guy.”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, I don’t know your name so I call you ‘hot guy’ in my head. At least, I’m guessing you’re hot beneath all the bruising and swelling.”

He almost laughed before he winced and took a deep breath through the mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Mia said. “It’s probably not a good idea to laugh with a broken nose.”

“I’m Connor, by the way. I would shake your hand but your thumb’s-”

“Dislocated,” Mia supplied before he could say that her thumb was broken. “So Connor, what was it that fell on your head and broke your nose?”

He mumbled something she couldn’t hear. “A what?”

“One of my Grandma’s vintage porcelain dolls.” He spoke so fast that the whole sentence sounded like one long mumbled word.

Mia blinked for a second before she started laughing so hard she nearly fell off her chair. She couldn’t help it. He was such a macho guy that the image of him being defeated by a doll was ridiculous.

“Was the doll dressed as a sheep herder?”

Connor didn’t appreciate her teasing. “I’m sorry,” she said even though it was obvious her apology was not sincere, “but it sounds like you were in an MMA fight with the doll and lost.”

He seemed exasperated for a second before a self-deprecating smile appeared on his face. Ugh, the smile made her pay attention to his lips. Biteable, pretty lips, like fluffy pillows… Mia was struck again by his hotness. She had forgotten about it in the midst of the doll fiasco.

“How did you break your thumb?” he asked.

She was about to explain for the umpteenth time that her thumb was dislocated not broken when she saw Will return holding out an ice pack.

“Thanks, Will.”

“Sorry I’m late. I had to check on Addie.”

Connor’s eyes darted to her brother, then fixed on Mia again. It was obvious that he was wondering if he was about to meet Mia’s significant other.

“Will, this is Connor. He has a broken nose. Connor this is Will, my older brother.”

Her brother threw her a questioning glance. “Nice to meet you.”

Will’s reserved greeting wasn’t lost on her new friend. Mia narrowed her eyes at her brother’s overprotectiveness. Sure, she had been approached by creeps all of her life just because her last name was Queen but she didn’t get that vibe from Connor. In fact she was pretty sure that he had no idea who she was.

“Miss Queen?”

“Dammit,” Mia growled.

“I’m so sorry for the delay, Miss Queen,” the nurse said. “If we knew you were here-”

“You would have done the exact same thing, I hope,” an authoritative voice said.

Mia shook her head in denial. She knew that voice. But it couldn’t be. Her father could not be here in the hospital when she had just met Connor, the hot guy who up until a moment ago was blissfully unaware of her last name.

“Of course, Mr. Mayor,” the nurse lied.

Mia could feel her father’s stare boring into her back. Before she could face him, another voice rose above the hospital noise.

“Mia Smoak Queen who did you punch and why?”

Mia turned towards her mother. She felt like a ten-year-old kid again insisting that she didn’t eat the last piece of her father’s birthday cake.

“I didn’t punch anyone.”

Felicity Smoak-Queen did not look convinced. “Really?”

Her father looked amused. “She’s telling the truth, honey. Her thumb’s broken. Mia knows better than to punch people with her thumb inside her closed fist.”

Felicity frowned, considering this information.

“It was my fault, Dad,” Will admitted.

“Don’t be absurd,” her mother said, dismissing Will’s confession. After all these years, Mia couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. Her mother had loved Will from the moment they had found out about him. It didn’t matter to her that he was not her biological child. It also helped that her brother was a certified genius and computer geek so alike Felicity it was scary. Even Samantha, Will’s actual Mom, said that Will was like a mini-Felicity. Mia didn’t begrudge her brother his relationship with her Mom. She only wished it were that easy for her.

“Actually, it was both our faults. We gave Addie ice-cream after Josh left for CC.”

Her father chuckled. “Hurricane Addie strikes again.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the nurse said reluctantly, “but we need to examine Miss Queen’s hand.”

“Right,” Mia said.

She looked at Connor who had been quiet through the whole Queen family drama.

“I’m Mia.”

“I know.”

“Anyway,” she offered him the ice pack, “this might help.”

“Thanks.” He took it but averted his gaze.

She hated asking but she had to. If he said no, then he said no. Her pride would take a hit - worse than any porcelain doll accident - but it was important that she try.

“See you later?”

“Bye, Mia.”

That went well, Mia thought and followed the nurse, feeling like she was shot through the heart with an arrow.

Connor Hawke was not having a good day. Sure the porcelain doll incident was somewhat responsible for that but mainly it was because of a beautiful, sassy, intelligent woman and her ridiculously wealthy, overwhelmingly famous family. No one went to the hospital expecting to meet the Mayor’s fascinating daughter. No one. These things didn’t happen. Specifically, these things didn’t happen to poor kids, born in the Glades.

Will Queen sat down next to him. The family bodyguards stood close by, not intervening but noticing everything and everyone. The old lady next to him got called by the nurse and the Mayor showed his wife to the seat. She smiled at him and he softened. Mayor Queen was notoriously in love with his wife. And incredibly overprotective of his only daughter.

“So, how is it you know my daughter?”

Connor looked at the Mayor’s wife. She was a really beautiful woman. Age had honed her features and if rumours were to be believed, her professional skills as well. But her beauty was not skin deep. He had seen her in numerous press conferences and heard so many stories about her from his mentor that he knew not to underestimate her. Felicity Queen was special.

“Hello,” she said when he didn’t respond. “I’m Felicity and I will be your interrogator for the night.”

Connor snorted and immediately regretted it. “Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. I’m Connor Hawke.”

She took her husband’s hand in hers, pulling him close and smiled at Connor. “Did you know that I met my husband in this very room Mr. Hawke? It was two days before Christmas and…”

“Umm, Felicity,” Mia’s brother interrupted, “I’m sure this guy doesn’t care where you met Dad.”

“Will,” his father chastised. Oliver Queen had a way with words. He didn’t speak a lot, not like his loquacious wife but when he did you couldn’t help but listen.

“As I was saying,” she went on as if the young man hadn’t even spoken, “we met in this room. Believe it or not, I had a broken thumb much like my stubborn daughter and he had a broken nose. Despite our broken bones, he didn’t hesitate to ask me out on a date-”

“Which you declined at first because you said that people would think you punched me.”

Felicity Queen’s eyes crinkled and a smile played at the corners of her mouth. “I was right, wasn’t I? The paparazzi got a photo of our dinner at Big Belly and had a field day thanks to our injuries.”

Oliver Queen smirked. “I always wanted to be an MMA fighter.”

“Dreamed of dating another fighter?”

“Nope. Dreamed of dating a cute IT girl.”

She blushed at his retort and he smiled cheekily. The older couple shared such an intimate look that Connor felt really uncomfortable.

“They’re always like that. After the first twenty-five years, you get used to it,” Mia’s brother murmured.

The Mayor winked at his wife. Connor had to give it to the Mayor. He was really good at flirting with his own wife. It kind of reminded him of John and Lyla.

“So, Connor Hawke are you planning to ask my daughter out on a date?”

“What?” he asked, startled. “Mrs Queen, I-”

“It’s Smoak-Queen.”

“Mrs Smoak-Queen, I just met Mia and I don’t think that-”

“Listen, Connor. You seem like a nice boy. I hope you’re smart as well.”

Connor couldn’t help but think of his upbringing. He supposed he was smart. Once he had applied himself to his studies, he had managed to make something of himself. He definitely wasn’t nice, though.

He was the son of an ex-convict and a kindergarten teacher, not the son of the Mayor and a CEO. He had grown up dirt poor in the worst part of the Glades, bullying smaller kids for their money, candy and books. The only reason why he wasn’t a gangbanger now was because of a man called John Diggle who was like a second father to him. When Dig had opened a youth center in their neighborhood people had laughed and scoffed at the soldier’s naivete. He had agreed with those people at first. The irony was staggering because Dig’s decision had saved Connor’s life. And the fact that Dig had used Oliver Queen’s money to make it happen was part of the reason why Connor could not ask the Mayor’s daughter on a date.

“Mia is out of my league.”

The Mayor scoffed. “Of course, she is. Like my wife is way out of my league.”

“You don’t understand. You were a Queen. I’m a nobody.”

Connor looked down. This was so awkward for him.

Felicity Smoak-Queen grabbed his hand. “Never say that about yourself. Never.”

She sounded fierce, like a small, protective Valkyrie. Sweet and sunny on the outside, badass on the inside. He nodded and she got up, satisfied with his acquiescence.

“Come on, Will. Let’s call your inlaws. I wanna make sure Addie’s fine.”

“I just called ten minutes ago.”

Felicity gave him a little push. “Let’s go, Will. I wanna talk to my favorite granddaughter.”

The two of them moved away, bickering. “She’s your only granddaughter, Felicity.”

One of the bodyguards followed them quietly, shaking his head.

Oliver Queen approached Connor taking the empty seat. He sat down gingerly.

“The chairs haven’t improved over the years.”

Connor tried to think of something clever to say. What did one say to the man who had changed the fate of an entire city? His mind drew a blank.

“You’re one of Dig’s kids,” Oliver Queen announced suddenly.

“What? How…?”

The Mayor leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. “There’s no point in denying it. I know all of John’s kids. He is so damn proud of each and every one of you. He sends me cards at Christmas updating me on your lives.” There was a wistful tone in his voice.

“So you know who I am.”

Oliver Queen didn’t even open his eyes. “Yes.”

“You know where I come from.”

“Yes.”

“You know who my father is,” he pressed.

“Yes. Ben Turner, mercenary, assassin and former member of the Triad.”

Connor threw his hands in the air. “And you still don’t mind if I ask your daughter out on a date?”

That seemed to wake the Mayor up. He stared intently at Connor, taking his measure.

“You hurt my daughter’s pride today. What makes you think she’ll agree to go out with you even if you do ask?”

Mia was beyond ready to leave this hellish place. Her parents had asked her repeatedly if she needed help and she had repeatedly declined. Will had left a while back when his mother-in-law had called to say Addie was getting restless again and that Josh was on his way back from Central City. The little munchkin needed to sleep in her own bed where she could have her parents close and forget about her aunt’s accident.

The vultures had been alerted about the Mayor’s presence in Starling Memorial and a flock of paparazzi was waiting for her outside the front entrance. Mia of course was about to exit through the back when she noticed him standing alone in the corner. Her blue-green eyes widened in surprise.

“Your face isn’t messed up anymore. Not that it was messed up before. Your face is fine. Very attractive,” she paused and cursed her Smoak genes for a moment, “what I meant was, before my brain and mouth disconnected, they fixed your nose.”

“They did,” he said, amused. His voice sounded like one of those old Smurf cartoons that Lucas liked to watch when he was little.

They stood, facing each other quietly. Connor was looking a bit uncomfortable but not distant like before.

“Mia would you like to grab a burger with me? Like a date?”

“I bet you ask all the girls you end up in the ER with.”

“Please, don’t make me laugh. It’s still painful.”

She shot him an amused grin. “But…” She took stock of the situation. “It might be better if we wait until your nose is healed a little.”

“What?” he asked alarmed. “Why?”

“Because with my busted hand and your busted nose, the reporters will think I punched you.”

He beamed at her as if she had said something funny. Suddenly, she realized they were standing so close that she had to lean her head back to be able to look him in the eye.

“Let them think what they want. Getting beat up by the Mayor’s daughter is still a better story than getting knocked down by a vintage sheep herder porcelain doll.”

“I knew it!”

#OFAE #OFAE fanfic #submission

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