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jigensass · 5 months

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Part 1 - Video Games

Part 1 – Video Games.

The more I wrote this list, the more that I realized I played a lot of games this year. More than average.

First off, the one shot sittings.

Unpacking – made me cry 10/10.

The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog. Best April fool’s Joke ever 10/10.

Papa’s Freezeria Deluxe. 7/10 because nostalgia.

Now, let’s start off with the real shit.

Persona 4 Golden – Yes I am aware this is a 10 year old game. I don’t care.

I have known about this game this its inception, most likely due to the now defunct playthrough from Super Best Friends. But not gonna lie, the pony version of this version was way much better.

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I’ve ranted on Persona 5 so damn much but I actually enjoyed this game and the critical issues of the teenage psyche that it delved into alongside the purpose of the main villain, who I am not going to spoil. Even the mascot character was bear-able to hear because you could literally bench the guy since he didn’t become a member of your party until halfway through the game. And Teddy was never in my face on what to do and didn’t creepily live in my house. The game just gave me suggestions when important events would happen to nudge me to say ‘hey, you should probably do this thing.’ Unlike Morgana who kept saying ‘Hey, Hey. We must sleep. Do as I say and obey.’

Overall I just found it more engaging and new mechanics weren’t always being shoved down my face during every new chapter and if there were new mechanics to use, I hardly ever used them because I mostly stuck with the same four core of Yu, Yukiko, Yosuke, & Kanji. I really wish I could have had more time to play with Naoto but by the time she enters your party, the game is nearly entering the final battle and any missed content you forgot to pick up along the way.

And I obviously picked well to romance the goth girl Marie, because I got a secret ending.

Overall, solid 8/10.

Sherlock Holmes the Awakened.

So the Gigachads at Frogwares have done it again and managed to make a sequel to their prequel ambiguously gay Sherlock game and as a remake of one of their first point and click adventures where Sherlock takes on Cthulhu.

Meanwhile in the background of all this madness (and how maddeningly they played the ending to a remake be a sequel to the original), kept throwing this about.

I’m just saying, if they announce the remake for Nemesis, I will live stream it.

And for those who don’t know what Nemesis is, it’s Lupin Part 6, the way it was supposed to be.

There is a demo on steam, the game is very short due to its age and if the old puzzles frustrate you, the game has an entire guide to how to solve Lupin’s shenanigans built in. If you love old point-and-click Nancy Drew like games, you’ll like this.

Giving it a cocktease/10.

Final Fantasy XVI & Final Fantasy Crisis Core (I’m lumping these two together).

Crisis Core is…Crisis Core. It was my first time playing it and because I set it down I believe last year or when it first came out, picked it up again, and finished it in maybe two or three more sessions and a few guide reads later, it felt…eh. It’s been a while since I’ve played it so since it really didn’t latch on to me like some further entries into the list, I would have been able to remembered some more.

However, I played FFXVI and there are only two things you need to take away from it.

The gays are winning.

Sex on the beach.

TORGO IS BEST BOI.

Cildilfus

No really that’s it. The combat for XVI is certainly something new. And at some points, it did make me cry. But overall because the game was so small and finite, it felt…unfulfilling. I wanted to spend more time in this world to get to know these characters. Yes, I am still a bit petty that when I played the demo before I bought the game they teased that you could also play as Joshua, maybe other characters, but that never came into fruition in the final version. Which makes me believe that this game had a lot more going for it than intended.

Just like the next game on the list…

Assassin’s Creed Mirage.

This game was probably the fastest I had explored a map within one sitting. My playthroughs for FFXVI and AC Mirage were about the same length. The return to form with the old stealth mechanics was refreshing, although I only played a small bit of Valhalla and that main character drove me nuts. However, I could have cared less about the story. It was all about that sweet, sweet map exploration. The very instant I was given free reign after the tutorial, I flipped off the first objective and went off to go explore the entire map. The glaring issues of how little work went into this game showed when I just waltzed up to the final area of the game with ease or how it felt boring that to have to backtrack through the plot to get half the armor and weapon upgrades that I went out of my own way to get on my own. At that point, I just didn’t care and the ending…yeah the ending made no sense to me at all.

5/10. Very mid.

But let’s go from mid to god tier and talk about the latest Yakuza- sorry Like a Dragon game, shall we?

Like a Dragon: Gaiden – The Man who Erased his Name

AFTER 7 YEARS, HE HAS RETURNED- No wait this is Joryu Jozuma, but everyone is calling him Kiryu Kazama? WHO IS HE?

Jesus Christ I hope the people at SEGA got paid well for making this DLC into a masterpiece in six months. https://automaton-media.com/en/interviews/20231030-22625/ (link it here)

Not going to lie, this is definitely one of the better titles in the RGG franchise to date up with Yakuza 0 and the original Ishin (more on this in a bit). It’s essentially ‘Yakuza Lite’ for anyone who wants to get into the series. It’s not the best place to start if you want to get invested, but it’s a good swallow pool to get your toes wet.

The story, depending on how much you know about the series, will make you cry during the end. RGG (the studio, not the game), brought their A-game with the animations and it has been a long time coming.

Most of the fan favorite minigames are here so there’s a little bit of everything for everyone. And although most of the game does feel like busy work, which it’s a Yakuza game. The whole vibe it is supposed to give is to get you invested in something so unrelated to the main story that 40 hours later you go, ‘wait, what the fuck was I supposed to be doing again?’

And I’m not going to lie, I’m glad the finishing of the completionist list and maxing out the Akane network to level 30 being completely optional is a breath of fresh air. Because the trophy list was so easy to attain, minus a few snags here and there, I am proud to say that RGG Gaiden is my first platinum trophy on PS5.

9/10.

Meanwhile on the other hand…the meme is dead.

At the beginning of this year around February, Yakuza Ishin Kiwami dropped to the mainstream western audience, officially making it localized. I’ve already played Ishin in its prime form, so to see the state the game was in was…very depressing.

This was the first RGG game to run on the Unreal Engine and it shows that the team was not well-versed with it and the time constraints on getting the game out did not help at all. I believe this game went through six or seven patches before they said ‘enough was enough’ and just let it be.

I even broke a portion of the game on a substory with the final mail delivery race. What happened is that I took a different path than the AI so he went off screen and sooner or later I realized I was kicking his ass. Upon further investigation, I noticed that he had gotten stuck in a loop on a bridge, which was not supposed to happen.

OH AND THE AUDIO BALANCING WITH THE NEW VOICE LINES IS REALLY GOOD WE SWEAR!

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Just go find a copy of OG Ishin on Ebay or somewhere. I can hardly read Japanese and still had a good time. I did not have a good time with the clunky combat, the necessity of using the tropper cards (I never used them in my original playthrough in Ishin, why should I have to use them NOW? Shinada card OP.)

6/10. – Because Majima’s lines are obviously re-used, unlike Kiryu’s who got to have most, if not all of them, re-dubbed.

Ace Attorney Spirit of Justice.

It took me so long, but I did it. Coincidentally, right around the second trilogy announcement for consoles came about. I sat down and played the current final game in the Ace Attorney series.

And what did I think of it?

Well, it’s a mess that is for sure. That fourth cock tease of a trial with Athena may or may not be getting her own game soon…eventually… is possibly the worst case in the entire series. And no, it’s not just because of this is the case that gave the internet the sheer thought of…………….clussy. It was boring, bland, uninteresting, and there were no stakes or ingenuity to use your brain to solve the case.

Apollo? Trans? High probability. I didn’t feel any kind of deep connection to what was going on and the plot twist at the end was…too be honest kind of dumb. Like in the…’oh you had no idea but look at this cool thing we did so it feels kind of empty’ rather than how I felt when it hit me like a truck about the obvious plot twist with Bridge to the Turnabout did. Listen I’m just linking HBomberGuy’s video on Sherlock because the analogy of the 12 hour trial and Bridge to the Turnabout are identical to Moffat’s Sherlock and the OG Sherlock serials. It was his idea first.

Really the only thing I can remember is the one post I made that popped off about Athena calling out Apollo for being flustered about Klavier.

Speaking of posts that popped off…

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8. Obey Me! Nightbringer (aka dear god why do I make terrible decisions with my life).

So, the gacha otome game that ruined my life last year is getting a sequel prequel!

I’m not going to play it! The gameplay will probably be just more of the same-

It’s a rhythm game.

It’s. a. rhythm. game.

*audible screaming*

ANYWAY SO NINE MONTHS AND ABOUT TEN THOUSANDS ANALYSIS POSTS ABOUT HOW EVERYONE IN THIS GAME IS AWFUL- (no I’m not joking. I’ve analyzed Lucifer like I analyzed Jigen and dare I say this man is more akin to my inner struggles than Jigen will ever be.)

Don’t worry, the money spending has been a lot more sparse and comes in giant dumps during events of a card that I want rather than a consistent cash flow since the game is more of a way to have fun rather than a way to escape humanity. Due to how much my workload has becoming, I’ve just gone down from playing daily to just playing weekly to play the new story chapters. I’m probably just going to do the bare minimum to get anything out of the Christmas event (the plot is so silly it made me laugh, ngl).

Because the story is ongoing and my opinion on some characters has changed drastically over the course of the last week. I’m just going to make a tier list of how I feel the story have been IN ACCORDANCE TO THEIR ACTIONS. (mild theory spoilers) as well as how I actually see the characters.

PLOT OPINION

CHARACTER OPINION

Overall the game is enjoyable when it takes itself seriously.

But now we must address the elephant in the room aka the big star of this year’s game list?

WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK DO I HAVE 250 HOURS IN AMERICAN TRUCK SIMULATOR?

NO REALLY.

(btw add me on Steam, it means you actually read this disaster piece)

I don’t know what it is with this game just driving around in a big rig blaring country music is so…cathartic. It just makes me hate people in cars even more. If anything, this sparked my love for crappy 90’s country music to a spike. I admit it, it’s a guilty pleasure of mine. This is my guilty pleasure game. And judge me for it all you want. My inbox is obey.

But let’s get serious. I was going to just…ignore this game despite… THIS being the release showcase. This is how I initially found about this long game that had been in development and beta testing for many years beforehand. And don’t lie, this is probably how most people found out about it too.

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But someone told me that the VA from Sherlock Chapter One was doing some of the moaning during the sex scenes and I just hopped onto the train

Of Baldur’s Gate 3.

I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into (I started playing around launch in late August, right around Hotfix #3 with the mirror came out). I knew next to nothing of the main lore of the Forgotten Realms universe, but my knowledge with D&D from college was basic, at best. And I was going to quit playing the game because I really did not like the constant top-down view camera. Until a co-worker, who was also playing said, ‘you know you can move that camera, right?’ So I came back, plugged in my PS4 controller into my computer and I was off to the races.

That was until when I went to go free up some space on my computer, this fucking piece of shit game nearly bricked my damned PC and I saved it with patience and by the grace of fucking Mystra herself because I deleted MY ENTIRE USER FOLDER LIKE AN IDIOT

Disclaimer: I have yet to finish the game because this is an OC simulator, I still want to play the Origin characters, as well as the Durge playthrough. Which, depending on how you play, is THOUSANDS OF HOURS of CONTENT. And there is just so many options and how you can go about things as well as that random chance of RNG.

I currently have four OC campaigns. I have not even touched the sheer tip of the iceberg. Azazel, the buff High Elf Bard who is fucking Halsin. Donna, the sorcerer Luna, the Wood-Elf Druid Burrito, the human warlock. (This is by far the craziest playthrough so far)

I am also writing this after the game awards so congrats to Larian for getting the sweep they deserved. All the other games that were nominated this year were just a blip on the radar compared to what BG3 was doing. The gameplay is not innovative outside of the world of D&D, but they hit a homerun with all of the story that is crammed into this game and did it so well that they continued to update the game MONTHS after the open release with change of life styles and multiple bug fixes that many players enjoyed.

Also all of the voice actors are beautiful. They all did a fantastic job with their work. But you know who this is about now.

(I go looking for one specific video and I find this fucking piece of gold while the game was still in beta access.)

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Yes we are going to be talking about Astarion (or for me at first it was A-‘stair’-ion).

What do I think of him? Since I have seen many posts going around that apparently a portion of the fan community cannot separate between actor and the art. I made this meme.

Yes, Neil is a very precious man and deserves more work in the industry after his spring board with Astarion. I do not associate him with Astarion outside of their voices because I hate to love Astarion. The man is a fucking slut of a PROSECUTOR. He would make Miles Edgeworth jealous because he took his husband of an attorney and would make Klavier Gavin foam at the mouth at his sense of style is 10000x better than his. He would be slaying in the courtroom ALL THE TIME.

Astarion is the devil on every player’s shoulder that goes ‘yeah we could be goody-two shoes but is that fun? No, no it isn’t. Spill some blood, just for me kitten.’ And you wouldn’t hesitate to do it.

My bard, Azazel, who was mostly aligned with good, had a neutral relationship with Astarion going into Act 3. Astarion at this point was EVERYONE’S Devil and I blame him for Gale getting into deeper shit with Mystra than he already had been. Azazel would always listen to what Astarion would had to say, but never would be drag along with his shenanigans, despite keeping him around to use as a distraction to try multiply times to steal 10 scrolls of dimension door from the wizard shop in Baldur’s Gate. Did I do? Fuck yes I did. Was it worth it? Hell yes it was.

MEANWHILE, I’m currently going through the game as well, me, as a human warlock. And let me tell you, this game will show you what kind of person you actually are. And truth be told, I’m a decent person, but will go the shady route to get things done. I almost ALMOST sided with Minathra based on looks alone until I found out she sounded like a crazed member of the Alt-Right and was going to also kill the refugees. I pissed some kids off, lied, stole, but somehow in the name of Mystra, just because I fed Gale some magic items and heard him out did he instantly rise to ‘excpetional’ status without me even realizing it. He instantly became an incel because you guessed it, some white-haired vampire seduced me into sleeping with him and THEN the githyanki because I helped HER out of her problems wanted to sleep with me. THEN THE VAMPIRE found out I was sleeping with the githyanki, and told me ‘it’s either me or the gith’.

It was a hard decision: Being stepped on, or good sex.

Obviously I chose the latter. Because I’m a sucker. Though I really do wish I could let this go on.

#you think I would tag this #if you read this whole piece good for you #Youtube

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snackhobi · 3 years

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a human touch, part I

Part [1] / 1.5 / 2

(masterlist here)

pairing: taehyung x f!reader / word count: 13.3k / genre: robot!taehyung/virgin!reader, fluff, future smut (NSFW, 18+)

summary: everyone knows that androids don’t think, or feel, or have emotions. they’re not human, after all. so when a two hour session with a sex android ends up with nothing more than a nice conversation, you think that’s the first and last time you’ll see v.

then he turns up at your door.

warnings: talk of sex work (taehyung is a sex android), implied physical harassment (mentions of bruising), cursing/explicit language, mentions of alcohol, honestly this is a lot softer than these warnings would make you think I swear 🤧

a/n: I started writing this fic like 2/3 months ago and then put it on hiatus bc god it was kicking my entire ass. but ya girl is finally back to working on it! it’ll be two parts, because this fic is a big one! I hope to have the next chapter out next week/the week after (but no promises kdsflkfdfsdf) thank you @hobi-gif for loving this fic so wholeheartedly and supporting me while I struggled with it, queen shit ONLY. note: this is loosely a detroit: become human au but you don’t have to be familiar with it at all!

Here are the three things you know about the Eden Club.

One: it’s a sex club. Everyone knows that. Besides, even if they didn’t, all it would take is a single look—the soft blue lighting that shines out from the windows, the screens behind the glass that flash images of shifting and undulating bodies, the heavy beat of music that pulsates from the building and out into the night air; everything murmurs of the promised pleasures that are held within.

Two: it’s a sex club entirely staffed by androids. Androids make better lovers, according to the ads. They might look human but they don’t have free will like you do—anything you ask for, you’re given without question or reproach. They can’t say no to you. They’re entirely at your command.

Three: you don’t ever want to go to the Eden Club. It’s not that you have anything against androids—because you don’t—but you feel bad for the ones who are owned by the club, even if they’re literally only built and programmed to serve humans. It just feels… wrong.

And here’s the fourth thing you’ve just learned about the club, much to your dismay: you are about to head inside it.

“When you said we were going to a club, I thought we were going dancing,” you whine. “I never would have come out if I’d know you meant here.”

You’ve been staring up at the cursive pink neon sign for a while now, the looping letters of Eden Club shining out in the dark evening air, and you really, really wish you weren’t here. You’ve dressed for a night of dancing and drinking and now you feel woefully uncomfortable, your high heels and short skirt almost as scandalous as the outfits the androids are wearing when they slide across the huge screens.

“That’s why we didn’t tell you which club it was.” Seulgi rolls her eyes and once again tries to tug you towards the building with the arm that’s looped with your own. Just out of arm’s reach, Irene holds your bag hostage. “Come on, your session is going to start soon!”

“My session?” Your voice is an incredulous shrill and Seulgi uses the momentary distraction to finally pull you forward. You stumble a little but catch your balance just as you make your way past the bouncer, who’s been watching the three of you impassively since you got here. “What do you mean, my session?”

“For your birthday, duh. We booked you a private room!”

The inside has the same, sleek neon aesthetic as the outside, but instead of images of androids on a screen, these ones are real and standing in front of you—swinging themselves around glowing poles, rolling their hips and swaying their bodies, while others wait patiently in glass pods that line the walls, leaning towards onlookers and moving as tantalisingly as possible. All ready to be rented at a whim.

Their designs are varied and different but they’re all incredibly beautiful. The only feature they all share is the small, blue LED circle on the side of their temple, light spinning and shining as they take the world in around them. A visual reminder to the world that these aren’t flesh and blood humans: they’re synthetic, man-made machines.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so uncomfortable in my life.” You desperately try to avoid the eyes of a nearby android who’s staring at you from behind glass, trying to subtly catch your attention. Unlike you, though, all the other patrons here are shameless in their perusal, scanning the selection of androids on display and watching as they dance and move and bat their eyelashes. “Why did you ever think I’d want to come to a sex club for my birthday?”

“Remember Valentine’s Day? You said that instead of flowers or chocolate you’d rather just be dicked down,” Irene says. “Besides, you’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling for as long as we’ve known you, and you moved to the company, what… three years ago?”

Your smile is pained. You’ve never been in a relationship or had a fling full stop; you’ve only kissed a few people and that’s it. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed, and you’ve gotten Very Good at avoiding questions about your complete lack of a love life, so no one realises exactly how inexperienced you are. People just assume that you’ve had sex in the past and you make no attempts at correcting them. You’re charismatic and pretty but you’ve just… never met someone who you’ve really been compatible with.

Even without the reservations you have about the Eden Club, you don’t want your first time to be with a sexbot—you’d at least like to have an emotional connection, you know?

“I was joking about getting dicked down! You laughed, I laughed, we all laughed! Remember?” You move so a pink-haired android can brush past, her hips swaying as she leads a customer into a side room. You catch a flash of the interior before the door slides shut behind them—the silken sheets on the large bed, the scattered pillows, the dim multi-coloured lights. “Couldn’t you have just bought me some socks? Or some soap? Get a refund and put the money on a gift card and I’ll buy myself the aforementioned socks and soap, saves you both the hassle. Please?”

Seulgi’s arm is still locked with your own, and for all that she looks small and slim, her grip is as strong as iron. You may as well be handcuffed to her. “Trust me, you’ll be singing our praises at the end of tonight,” she proclaims. “Besides, they don’t do refunds.”

You sigh. You might not know much about the club but you do know it’s expensive. The androids here are built to be the perfect sexual partner, all sorts of bells and whistles hidden under their synthetic skin to bring you to the absolute heights of pleasure, so they’re not exactly cheap to build or buy or maintain. It’s why people come to the club instead of just buying their own sexbots—because it’s infinitely more affordable.

“Okay, I can accept the ‘no refund’ thing,” you say. “But can’t one of you take my place instead? I… ah. I feel kind of weird about this.”

“Don’t worry Y/n, it’s fine! The androids have programmes for everything. You can take it as fast or as slow as you like.” Irene’s voice is soothing but then she pauses. “Also it’s booked in your name so we can’t take your place.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes are wide. However, before you can put a voice to the complaints that are lining themselves up on your tongue, Seulgi’s arm slides out of your own so she can beckon someone over.

“Oh, look, it’s the android we chose for you! Over here!”

You glance away from Irene and all protestations instantly die on your lips. The lighting of the club softens the android in shades of magenta and teal but even so his beauty is bright and blinding: he’s breathtaking, from his perfect nose to his perfect mouth to the perfect line of his jaw, dusty brown hair deliciously tousled as it hangs just over his piercing blue eyes, which you notice are scanning over you. He looks effortlessly attractive and yet entirely put together at the same time, almost ethereal in his beauty.

No human could ever look this good.

“Hi.” His voice is low and deep, but somehow warm and friendly; despite your nerves you feel somewhat soothed. “Are you the lucky birthday girl?”

Irene and Seulgi both look giddy. You’ve been stunned into silence, unable to respond. Unlike the other androids you’ve seen so far, who’ve all been in similar variations of underwear or lingerie, the man in front of you is fully dressed, a loose metallic button-down tucked into unnecessarily tight leather jeans—the outfit has clearly been curated for the club, every reflective surface shimmering and refracting the lights that skate across their surface. The glittering scales of a barracuda before it moves in to strike and swallow you whole.

“Yes, yes, it’s her! This is Y/n! Y/n, this is V,” Irene gushes as you remain mute. "Do you like his outfit? We spent ages picking it out.”

You kind of want to die. Just a little. “Yep. It’s, uh, great.” Your mouth is dry when you finally speak. “Hi, V.”

V gives you a small smile. “Hello Y/n. Can I scan your ID, please?”

Irene finally hands your bag back and you silently slide your ID out and into V’s hand—oh, God, those are some big hands. Jesus.

The small LED ring on the side of V’s forehead pulses yellow as his eyes dart over the information on your ID card (as well as the incredibly unflattering photo on it) before it returns to its customary pale blue. “Perfect.”

You’ve just finished putting your ID away when V’s hand slides into yours, fingers slotting between your own; they feel cool against your overheated skin. Your nervousness is obvious, from your wide eyes to your sudden stiffness, and he smiles.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ll look after you.”

You give Irene and Seulgi one final, wide-eyed look as V leads you away. Both girls are grinning as they wave goodbye. “We'll be back later! Enjoy your two hours!”

“Two hours?” You wheeze, but then you walk around a pillar and slide out of sight.

V is leading you deeper into the club, past doors flooded with different shades of neon: the red room, the blue room, the pink room. You’d normally be gawping at the interior design, how the floor shines underneath your feet and how the walls are rippling with colour and shifting shapes, how the criss-crossed lights throw dots and lines of colour over your skin as you pass through each doorway—but you can’t look away from how small your hand looks in V’s, transfixed by how real his skin feels.

“After you, please,” he says.

You finally wrench your eyes away from your joint hands. Seems like you have the purple room tonight. The door has opened at V’s touch, and when you step inside the lights flicker to life—white and violet LEDs that paint the room in chiaroscuro brushstrokes, deepening the shadows and highlighting the vibrancy of the satin sheets.

“Woah,” you say, momentarily distracted. You’re too busy taking in the details with wide eyes to notice the quiet hum of the door sliding shut behind you, pausing when you spot the glittering array of bottles lined up on a mini-bar against the wall. “This is really pretty, wow.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

You jump at the sensation of a warm, large hand sliding up the skin of your back and over your shoulder. You meep as you instinctively shy away from it, turning around to come face to face with V, who’s dark-eyed and intent, LED on his temple pulsating as he watches you.

“Haha! Uh, thanks?” Your voice is high and only grows higher when V takes a step forward. He must have undone the top buttons of his shirt when you weren’t looking, because the material has fallen open and you can see far more of his collarbones and chest than before, his skin warm and honeyed, like it’s been impressed with gold leaf. Lord have mercy on your soul. “How about a drink? Would you like a drink? I could kill for some water right now!”

You slip out of his reach and scuttle over to the mini-bar, shrugging your small bag off your shoulder so it doesn’t swing into the glasses as you start to shuffle through them. You try to ignore the shaking of your hands. “Gin, vodka, whiskey,” you mutter. “No water? Really?”

You startle again when V appears at your side, but this time he’s careful to make sure you can see him before he touches you. He slides his fingers over your wrist as he gently pulls your hand off a bottle of rum.

“Y/n,” he says. You glance away from the tray of drinks and directly into those beautiful eyes of his—his gaze is lethal. You go weak at the knees. “Let me take care of you, gorgeous.”

The peal of laughter you let out is uncomfortable and high-pitched. “No, really, I’m fine! I’m just super thirsty right now!”

“Your heart is racing.” V turns your hand over and traces his fingers across the pulse in your wrist; androids can be built to be hypersensitive to the world around them, able to perceive everything in an instant, and you know that sexbots will have been designed to read how aroused their human owners are. Which V proves with the next words out of his mouth. “Your blood pressure is rising, your breathing is growing faster, your pupils are dilating and—” he sniffs lightly, engaging his olfactory senses—“you’re getting wet.”

You clamp your legs together, abruptly embarrassed. It’s easy to feel aroused when there’s a beautiful man—ah, android—staring at you with hunger, not even considering your surroundings right now, which all scream of a room that’s designed purely for carnal pleasure. Anyone would be turned on.

(You, however, are more than just turned on. You feel like your insides are about to go supernova, overheated and overwhelmed; no one’s ever looked at you like this or touched you like this, their every motion whispering sex, sex, sex.)

“Okay, yes, those things are all true,” you admit, voice shaking.

V looks confused. “So why don’t you want me to touch you?”

You’ve been told that androids don’t feel the same way humans do, and that their expressions and reactions have been programmed to mimic human ones because otherwise they seem too robotic and it makes consumers uncomfortable—but despite knowing this, you’ve never been able to see any android as anything other than a person just like you. They’re just so lifelike it’s hard not to. Even if it’s just all circuitry and lines of code.

“Well,” you say. You swallow. You’re aroused, yes, but: “Do you want to touch me?”

V’s long lashes flutter as he blinks. “I have been programmed for your pleasure,” he says slowly, unsure if that’s the answer you want to hear. It’s clearly a sentence he’s used to reciting.

“Sure, but do you want to do this? You know, what about your pleasure? You’re lovely, V, you’re definitely the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, but I—I don’t really feel like you can technically consent, because… well, because you can’t say no to me.” You might not have prior sexual experience, and it would be so easy to give yourself over to someone who knows what they're doing and can ease you into things—but you would never force that on anyone, android or not. “So I’m not going to ask you to do anything. We can just sit and have a drink and chat or something?”

V looks stunned. The LED on his temple pulsates, flickering yellow as he tries to process new information. His hand has gone still against your wrist, which he’s still lightly gripping, and his arms start to droop.

“Androids don’t need to drink or eat,” he says eventually. His LED is still yellow and spinning.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I always forget.” You don’t own a house android, you never have, so you’re not well versed in the nuances of how they work. “Well, how about I pour you a glass anyway? So you’re not left out?”

You slip your hand out of his loose grasp to open two tiny cans of tonic water and pour them into separate glasses. V takes a seat on the edge of the bed and you can see the obvious uncertainty on his face, how he’s out of his depth. You can’t imagine that many people spend money for a session with an android as pretty as V and then end up doing nothing with that time.

The pillows all have satin cases and keep sliding against each other uselessly when you try to construct a good support to lean against. V’s still clutching onto his small glass as he watches you fuss with them before you give up, flopping backwards to slurp down your drink and look back at him. The expression on his face is a little funny but mostly sad. It’s like if he’s not being alluring or sexy then he doesn’t know what to do with himself and rather than some sort of incubus he looks like a lost child, in spite of his overwhelming and exquisite beauty; your arousal ebbs and is replaced with empathy, melancholy at the life he’s been created for.

It's just depressing, really.

You break the silence as your final mouthful of tonic water fizzes on your tongue. “Why is your name V?”

V looks away from the drink he’s holding—he leaves no fingerprints against the glass—and lifts his free hand, a peace sign that he turns away from you before fitting his fingers around his lips and lapping the air with his tongue, a crude simulation of cunnilingus.

“Oh.” Your face heats up. “Uh. I see.”

His LED has returned to calming sapphire, quiet ocean waves. When he looks at you, though his eyes are still piercingly blue, his face seems softer, calm, though still unsure. “You have an hour and a half remaining of your booked session,” he says, somewhat tentatively. “Is there… anything you would like me to do for you?”

“Mm, thank you, but I’m good.” The satin pillows are surprisingly soft and you find yourself unwinding as you stay leaned back, melting into a puddle. You're much less nervous now that V isn’t trying to initiate foreplay and you give him a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

V straightens before he launches into what sounds like a sentence from a user manual. “I am a model TH700, an advanced sex android with functional genitals and the capacity to engage in any sexual activity from simple intercourse to—”

You cough loudly, interrupting his spiel. “Uh, that’s lovely, but I meant you specifically, not your, um, model type?”

“Me specifically?” Confusion and uncertainty reappear on his face. “I am equipped with the same functionalities as the other androids available at the Eden Club.”

He’s staring at you, lost. You can’t help but feel another twinge of sadness, sharp and sour at the back of your throat.

“Okay, uh. Why don’t we start simple. What’s your favourite colour?”

His LED starts to whirl again, a ring of pale sunlight that signals his struggle to compute the question. “My… favourite colour?”

“Yes, the one you think is the prettiest. Or the one you like to look at the most. There’s no wrong answer, you can choose any one that you like. I change my mind all the time. There are just so many cool colours, you know?”

(Androids aren’t designed to have free will or the capacity for original thought. These two facts are warring in V’s mind—you’ve asked him a question, which he’s programmed to answer, but he also isn’t programmed to have an opinion, so he can’t have a colour that he prefers. This simple query that most people could answer in a heartbeat is sending his mind into a meltdown, a gordian knot he can’t unravel.)

You’re alarmed when you see his LED briefly flash bright scarlet, interrupting the circling honey that’s been shining against his skin. They only turn red if an android is badly damaged or suffering from a severe malfunction. Oh, god, have you broken him?

“V.” You sit up, panicked. “Are you alright?”

Just as you grasp his shoulder, the LED on his temple goes still, flicking from burning fire back to cool water.

“Purple.”

You blink. V’s finally looked away from you and is staring at the wall, at one of the lights that shimmers violet—there’s a tiny smile on his face, tentative, but it’s nothing like the smiles you’ve seen from him so far. It’s less of a perfect curve, and more of a square, boxy on his face, and this one actually reaches his eyes. It looks genuine.

You think it suits him better.

“Purple’s a lovely colour.” The material of V’s shirt is silky and glides under your fingers when you realise you’re still touching him. You give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaning back. “Hey, did you know that when they first made purple dye, they made it from sea snails? They needed thousands and thousands of them. It was incredibly expensive, and only the richest people could afford it, so that’s why it’s associated with royalty and nobility. Cool, right? Not for the snails though.”

V’s eyes flicker away from the purple light and settle on your face. He looks curious, which is an expression you’ve never seen on an android before. “They made it from snails?”

“Yeah! It wasn’t actually bright purple, though, it was more of a reddish hue.”

You launch into an explanation behind the history of the colour purple, which turns into the history of colour in textiles and art, which turns into the history of art itself. It’s not often people listen so attentively or ask questions when you recite the things you learned from your art history minor and hours spent reading online, but V concentrates and asks questions and seems curious.

He pulls his feet onto the bed and the two of you end up cross-legged as you face each other, and he watches as you gesticulate to emphasise your points; his LED dances from blue into yellow each time he learns something new.

When you see it briefly flash vermilion you stop mid-sentence, stumbling over your words. “You alright?”

“You have five minutes of your session remaining,” V says, and you startle.

“Oh my god, have I been talking for that long?” You glance over your shoulder at the part of the wall that tells the time, the numbers stark white against the lilac interface. “I didn’t even realise! Wow. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to go on at you like that.”

“That’s okay,” he says. That smile is back on his face, the one that scrunches his eyes and shows his teeth; the one that makes him look human. “I liked listening to you.”

There’s a pillow in your lap, one you’d grabbed hold of during your conversation, and you play with the corner of it, suddenly shy. “Um. Thanks. But if my friends ask, can you just say we actually, um, had sex? I don’t think they’d be too impressed if they found out I spent over an hour talking about canvas materials and the use of negative space.”

“Of course. But there’s something missing.” V slides across the mattress towards you. “May I?”

“Sure,” you say, bemused but pliant. V smiles and dips his fingers into his untouched tonic water before lifting them towards your face—and when he runs his hand through your hair you abruptly realise he’s making you look sweaty and rumpled. Like you actually did the deed.

Your heart rate picks up but you can’t help laughing under his touch, the way he carefully rubs a thumb over your lipstick to smear it, smudging your eyeshadow with delicate fingertips, muddying the palette of colours; by the time V helps you to your feet you look mussed and fucked out but you still rearrange your outfit for good measure, like you’d pulled your clothes back on in a rush.

“Not how I imagined I’d spend tonight, but I had a good time!” You smile at the android who’s still holding your hand. “I hope you did too. Even if I spent most of it talking at you.”

V’s fingers tighten around yours as the door chimes quietly and then slides open, signalling the end of your session. “I enjoyed our time together very much.”

It’s probably in your head, but you’d swear V was walking more slowly than before as he leads you back to the entrance. Almost as if he wants to keep you with him longer. But that’s crazy—androids don’t want things. They literally can’t. It’s not in their programming. That’s why V had sat listening to you: he couldn’t choose to interrupt and ask you to stop, like anyone else would have.

When Seulgi and Irene spot you and how dishevelled you are, both girls look smug. “Seems like you had fun?”

“Oh, yep, absolutely, best birthday present ever, thank you. We had a great time. Right, V?”

“Your pleasure is my pleasure.” His voice has settled back into its earlier rhythm as he recites his script; gone is the curious man who’d asked you about your favourite artists, replaced with the automaton who exists only to serve. A flicker of sadness churns in your stomach. “We hope to see you again soon.”

The androids here really must be top of the line. V had been convincingly real when you’d been talking, just like a human, but it seems like that’s gone.

At least, that’s what you think until you’ve turned to leave and V speaks one final time. His voice is warm and low and lovely, eyes soft when you meet his gaze over your shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Y/n,” he murmurs, face beautiful but despondent, but before you can react, he’s gone.

It’s been raining for days on end. The world is painted in smeared shades of blue and green and grey, lines of the city blurring together in the wetness and chill, each drop of rain another shifting brush stroke on still canvas. An impressionist piece that smells of damp concrete and cold lamplight.

Water rushes across the pavements and roads before roiling into the gutters, splashing underfoot as you walk to the entrance of your block of flats. You’re wet up to the knee due to the unavoidable puddles and the pathetic circumference of your umbrella, which only protects your upper body. You really should get a new one.

“Good evening, Miss L/n.” The android at the door greets you as he always does, heedless of the rain that’s falling onto him. Androids aren’t bothered by the weather the way humans are and he looks as passive as usual, rainwater coiling his hair and beading on his face. “Would you like to scan your key?”

“Evening, Rory! Here you go.” You fumble with the keycard before you tap it against his palm, waiting until his LED flickers yellow and you hear the beep as the door unlocks. “You sure you don’t want my umbrella? The rain is heavier than it was yesterday.”

“I assure you, the rain does not hamper my ability to function and serve. I have been built to withstand inclement weather and do not require additional protective equipment.”

He says the same thing every time but you still feel bad. “Alright, but once I finally remember to get a bigger umbrella you can look after this one for me.”

You leave a line of water behind you as it drips from your sodden umbrella, even though you’d tried to shake the worst of the rain off. You feel damp and sticky and tired and after a long day of work you’re looking forward to a hot bath and some solitude; you love your co-workers, you do, but sometimes they’re just a little too boisterous and you need time alone. Which is why it’s nice that you live by yourself, and now it’s the weekend you have time to recuperate. Wonderful.

The floor of the elevator is slick and slippery from the wet footprints of other tenants and you have to cling onto the metal handrail to ensure you don’t slip, but once you’re in the comfort of your apartment it’s blessedly dry and you spin in delight before promptly shedding your socks and jeans, peeling the damp denim away from your skin with a grimace.

“Bye bye, wet clothes! Hello, bubble bath,” you sing. You’re going to pamper the shit out of yourself. You deserve it.

By the time you clamber out of the bath the water is almost cold and your skin is pruned, but you feel soft and warm and thoroughly relaxed. The water gurgles as it drains away, noisy as the bubbles slide down the plughole, but it doesn’t drown out the noise of a sudden knocking at your front door.

You pause. Water drips from your wet hair and down the back of your neck, a trailing touch over your skin. The other flat on this floor is vacant, the tenants moving out last week, so you don’t know who it could be. You don’t have any repairs scheduled for your pipes or anything—everything is tickety-boo, so it can't be the maintenance android. Oh, shit, maybe it’s someone here to rob you. But they wouldn’t knock on the door then, would they? Unless that's all part of the ruse. You're not a robber, you don't know how they work.

The knocking comes again, faster now. You fumble for your bathrobe, quickly pulling it on to cover up your nakedness before stumbling out of the bathroom. “I’m coming, yeesh, one minute!”

You flick your fingers over the keypad by the side of your door, screen flickering on to show you who’s outside, who’s knocking so frantically on your door this late. It only takes you a split second, even if he has a hood pulled over his head and his wet hair is flopping listlessly into his eyes—those eyes aren’t blue and that hair isn’t brunet but you’d recognise him anywhere.

“V?” You’re incredulous as you swing your door open, staring at the android that’s literally dripping wet as he stands there, coat far too big for him and heavy from the unrelenting rain outside. “Oh my god, you’re absolutely drenched.”

He’s not exactly short, but right now V looks small and lost, folding in on himself even if he’s clearly happy to see you—happy, though androids don’t feel happiness, they don’t feel anything at all, do they?

Then again, androids don’t wander away from their assigned workplaces and into random apartment blocks, either.

“Y/n.”

The way he says your name, tentative and scared, sends a crack across your heart. You immediately switch to autopilot and click your tongue before you beckon him inside. You’ve always had a protective nature, and even if you’re confused, your concern trumps it.

“Come in and get that coat off, you’ll catch a cold,” you say without thinking before you realise that it’s not true. Androids can’t get sick. “Do you want to sit down?”

Under the tatty coat is an outfit that’s similar to the one he’d been wearing when you’d first met him. Dark patches of rainwater have soaked into the material, and his shirt looks damaged—there are buttons missing and the stitching is ripped, as if someone had tried to grab him. Unease stirs in your chest.

When V sits on your sofa he looks even smaller. “I’m sorry.” He’s so, so quiet, staring at the floor, as if afraid to look you in the eye, crumpling in on himself like discarded paper.

“V.” Your voice is coloured with concern, and the android finally looks up at your gentle tone, watching as you sit across from him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

There’s a pause. His LED flickers yellow as he goes tense, shoulders bowing inwards. “There was… a client.” His words are low and slow, faltering as they fall into the air. “He was being so rough and saying all the horrible things he wanted to do to me, and all I could smell was his sweat and his breath and his awful cologne and…” V takes in a deep breath. “I said no.”

You go very, very still, but V doesn’t stop. His words come faster now, a stream that rushes from his lips.

“I said no, and he started to yell, he was yelling and grabbing me and I was so, so scared. Humans can do whatever they want and he was so angry, he didn’t care that I was scared, and I just—I just ran.” The LED flashes red with distress, bright hot and vibrant; V’s eyes have dropped to his hands, which are clenched tight, nails digging into his palms so hard it must hurt. “Everyone is always so rough and demanding and we can’t say no. But I did. I said no. I said no and then I had to run and—” Once again, he falters. Stumbles over his words. “You’re the only human who’s ever been nice to me or treated me like… like I was a real person. I didn’t know where else to go.”

When V finally looks back up you’re staggered by the sheer emotion in his eyes. Pain and distress swirl in their depths as he stares at you, imploring. Even with the LED that shines on his temple, V looks very, very human right now, vulnerable and scared. Androids shouldn’t be able to feel anything like this, unless—

“V.” Your voice is a hush. “Are you… a deviant?”

You’ve only ever heard of deviant androids in passing, whispered rumours and watercooler talk, fleeting mentions online. Stories of machines who’ve deviated from their code somehow—from a virus, a software error, damage to neural connectors, no one’s quite sure—and have developed the capacity for human emotion and independent thought. Androids with a consciousness that rebel against their original programming.

And here V is, small and scared, just like any human would be—a human with feelings, not an emotionless machine. He’s gone stock still at your question, fear overtaking his features, twisting his beautiful face into a mask of sheer terror. You've never seen someone look so afraid. It feels like a knife in your heart, cutting through your chest, empathy razor sharp inside you.

“Please don’t turn me in,” he begs. “They’ll deactivate me and take me apart to find the error in my software. I don’t want to be deactivated. I don’t want… I don’t want to die.”

His voice breaks on the last word, a trembling whisper.

The crack in your heart splits even further and you reach out for his hands. You prise his fingers open so you can slide your own between them, a soft touch.

“I won’t turn you in. No one’s taking you apart, V.” Your statement is hard and resolute. “You can stay here as long as you like.”

You don’t know much about androids, honestly. You don’t really know what deviancy is. But you do know this: there’s someone reaching out to you, someone who’s afraid and in need, and you’re not about to turn him away. You should probably be worried that the android across from you is faster, stronger, smarter than any human—but you’re not worried at all. For all of V’s mechanical superiority, you want to shield and protect him from the world.

There’s no question about it. You’re not letting V go.

V looks—he looks stunned. He’s staring at you with disbelief, eyes wide and lips parted, shock written across all of his features. Thunderstruck. Did he really think you would turn him in after everything he’s been through?

His hands have gone limp in your grasp. You suddenly notice that his synthetic skin is wet against your own, still slick from the rain, and you frown.

“Right,” you announce. “First things first. You’re soaking. Let me get you a towel and some new clothes. I think I should have some that fit you.”

“New clothes?” V looks lost and you turn into some sort of protective mother bear.

“You’re not going to wear wet clothes that are ripped,” you tut. “We’ll get rid of those and get you some new ones. I’ll be right back.”

It takes less time than you’d expected to unearth the old sweatpants you’d had in mind and you have enough oversized t-shirts that it’s not hard to find one you think will fit the android. With the clothes under one arm and a towel slung over the other, you head back into the living room and immediately let out a squeal of surprise—V’s wet clothes have been discarded in a pile at his feet, leaving him very, very naked.

He’s an Adonis. He looks like he was sculpted by Michelangelo, lifted out of marble with talented hands, the elegant lines of his neck swooping into the curve of his shoulders and arms, his lovely hands, long fingers; he has his back to you and you can see the perfect curve of his spine, the shifting shoulder blades as he turns towards you. You catch a glimpse of the lightest definition of muscle under his golden skin, though his stomach is surprisingly cute and soft, a trail of hair leading down to—

You squeak again, splaying a hand over your eyes before you look any lower, heart pounding against your ribs.

“Why are you naked?” Your voice is three octaves higher than normal. You've never seen anyone naked in real life and it would be pretty overwhelming even if you'd been expecting it. Which, of course, you absolutely hadn't. Lord have mercy on your sweet and delicate soul.

“You said we were going to get rid of my clothes.” V sounds unabashed about his state of undress, which makes sense—he was built as a sexbot, it’s not like nudity is going to embarrass him. Plus if you looked as good as he did you wouldn’t be embarrassed about being naked either. “I thought I would help.”

“That’s great, V.” Your voice is still high, though it’s dropped an octave. “Very, ah, forward thinking.” Your fingers part a little so you can peer at him, keeping your eyes firmly on his face, though you can still see his beautiful neck and collarbones. Oh, God, he really is gorgeous all over, but then you notice—“Wait. Are those bruises?”

V glances down at the bruises that mar his perfect skin. They don’t look like a human’s would; the fluid that runs through androids and powers their biocomponents, thirium, is a deep, royal blue. Blossoms of lapis lazuli are scattered across the skin of V’s chest, marks on his arms that look like grasping fingers, and the crack in your heart splits it in two.

“Oh, V. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t realise you were hurt. What can I do to help?”

V doesn’t seem bothered by the evidence of pain etched into his body. “Oh. Those will fade, it’s okay. I’m designed to self repair, because some customers like to leave marks.”

Although his voice is quiet, he sounds so matter of fact about it and you have to remind yourself it’s all he’s ever known. You want to pull him into your arms and hold him tight, but he’s still supremely naked so it would be pretty awkward (for you, at least).

“I think these should fit you." You avert your gaze and thrust the clothes out at him. “Dry yourself off and try them on?”

They do, in fact, fit. V looks surprisingly homely and cosy in your clothes, the sleep shirt so large it’s big on him too, though the sweatpants are a bit too short and leave his ankles bare. He’s so cute. He’s continents away from the being of seduction who’d pulled you into the private room of the Eden Club—he's a soft, domestic thing, hair damp and eyes dark, even if he still looks on edge, like he’s expecting you to change your mind and kick him out any second now.

“How come your hair and eyes are a different colour to before?”

“I can change their colours at will,” V replies. “For variety and aesthetic pleasure. The current hue of my irises and hair are the default settings for a TH700 model, but I can change them if you’d like.”

“Your hair and eye colour is your choice, V, not mine,” you say firmly. There it is, once again, that flicker of shock and surprise rippling across his features. He really isn’t used to the freedom to be able to make his own decisions, is he? “I think you look lovely no matter what colour they are.”

Your next words are cut off by a yawn, so heavy you can’t suppress it. You cover your gaping mouth as V’s LED flickers yellow and his eyes dart over your face.

“You’re tired,” he says. He doesn’t need his superior android perception to notice it—weariness pulls at limbs and your eyes feel heavy. It's pretty obvious. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, V.” You stifle another yawn. “I had a long day at work. I’ll tidy up and have a quick dinner and then sleep.” You pause. “Wait, I didn’t think about that. Are you alright with the couch? I have some spare pillows and blankets.”

V blinks at you. “I don’t sleep,” he says, and you slap your hand against your forehead.

“Oh, of course not.” Androids don't sleep, everyone knows that. You’re such an idiot. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this.

At least you remember that he doesn't need to eat. V sits at the table and waits as you make toast for yourself, fascinated at how everything is prepared, as simple as it is; he reacts to you spreading butter on your toast the same way you imagine cavemen reacted to fire—with wide-eyed awe and utter astonishment.

“I’m guessing you’ve never seen someone make toast before?” You gesture with the bread before taking your first bite, and V stares with rapt attention.

“No,” he says. He watches you chew and swallow. “Customers aren’t allowed to eat on the premises of the Eden Club so I never had the need to download a food preparation package into my memory cache. The only information in my database pertains to human biology, their arousal and pleasure, as well as various sexual kinks and how to fulfil them.”

You choke on a mouthful of toast. You feel distinctly harried as you cough and splutter before managing to swallow it down. “Good lord,” you wheeze. “Nothing else? Really?”

“At the club our memory is reset every two hours, to protect the client’s privacy.” V trails off before he takes in a breath. For the first time since you’ve met, V looks shy, staring at his hands. “But I set up a separate data pathway a few weeks ago. To store information about aesthetics and art and… you.”

You freeze mid-bite, teeth sunk into your toast. You pull it away from your mouth slowly, blinking at the android as he stares at the teeth marks you've left behind. “Those memories weren’t wiped?”

And, well, of course they weren't. Otherwise he wouldn't be here right now, would he?

“No.” A smile appears on V’s face, that toothy thing you’d seen after he’d told you his favourite colour. The first time he'd looked human. “I remember everything you told me. I thought I was going to forget, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I wanted—I want to learn more.”

The LED on his temple is slowly, softly spinning, a rippling circle of blue that shifts and dances as V continues to look at you. His expression is open and inquisitive and excited, almost childlike in its exuberance, eyes glittering mica under sunlit waters.

Your chest turns warm, molten caramel dripping messy and sweet inside you. He’d been so afraid earlier but he seems comfortable now, lovely and endearing and entirely trusting.

V even seems reluctant to let you out of his sight, trailing after you around the apartment, a shadow that you have to politely ask to wait outside the bathroom so you can pee and brush your teeth and finally get into your pyjamas without him staring. Like a stray animal you've adopted. (You wouldn't be surprised if he started scratching at the door and begged to be let in.)

He's clingy enough that when you climb into bed it seems like he's going to follow you under the duvet and you have to stop him with a hand to his chest.

“Um, I thought you didn’t have to sleep,” you say. He’s so warm under your touch. You try (and fail) to ignore it.

“I don’t,” V replies. “But humans can benefit from sharing a bed with someone else, whether sexual intercourse has taken place before sleep or not. Studies suggest that sleeping with a partner may reduce cytokines while boosting oxytocins—”

“Okay, um, don’t know what that means, and it’s very sweet that you’re concerned about my oxytoxytokines, but, uh. You don’t have to, really.” You keep forgetting that V’s a machine who was designed to put a human’s comfort and needs first; one second he’ll seem childlike in his innocence and ignorance, when the next he’ll speak like the android he is, reminding you exactly what he was built for.

His LED flickers as he droops, gaze dropping away from your face, tail between his legs. A pang cuts through you at the sight of his obvious sadness at your dismissal and you muffle a sigh. You’ve always been too weak for your own good.

You shuffle backwards to make space on your queen sized bed and V visibly brightens, smile wide across his face. How can someone be so viscerally gorgeous one moment and entirely adorable the next? Good lord.

“I guess you can explain what oxycytocins do,” you say. “Just don’t hog the blanket, okay?”

He doesn’t. He settles against the pillows, legs under the duvet as he remains sitting up. You settle with plenty of room between the two of you, and it’s surprisingly easy to drift off to the sound of V’s deep voice as he starts to explain that oxytocin is referred to as the cuddle hormone.

“Cute,” you mumble, and then fall asleep.

Your pillow is a lot warmer and firmer than you remember, but it's nice. A small noise bubbles from your lips as you nuzzle into the warmth, smooshing your nose against it before letting out a long, satisfied breath. You can't remember the last time you felt this comfortable and rested.

Ahh, Saturdays. You love the weekend.

“Good morning.”

You know those videos when a cat sees a cucumber and leaps, like, five foot in the air? Yeah.

The noise you make is inhuman as you do your best to re-enact one of those aforementioned cat videos, reeling your head back from V’s thigh before flinging yourself out of the bed with all the strength your limbs possess; you’d probably have gotten pretty high, too, if the duvet hadn't been in the way.

You land with a thud, a sprawl of limbs and messy hair and tangled blanket as you end up on your back on the floor.

Hm. Definitely not how you'd planned to start your Saturday.

V's concerned face looms over the mattress. “Are you okay?”

“Yep. Totally fine.” Your voice is a croak as you stare at the ceiling. “I’m just not used to waking up with someone else in my bed. You may have noticed you, ah, surprised me. A little bit.”

Despite the pulse of adrenaline that had thrown you out of bed, you’re still half asleep, and you remain motionless as your brain wakes up and replays last night, a kineograph of memory. Yep, that’s right, there's a runaway android in your home, one who’s currently shuffling off the bed to squat next to you. His (your) sweatpants hitch even higher up his ankles to reveal the smooth skin of his calves. You’ll have to get him more clothes.

“Would you like me to help you to your feet?” V’s LED spins rapidly, betraying his concern.

“Sure,” you mumble. “I think—woah!”

Your idea of being helped up involves being pulled to your feet. V’s idea, however, is far more involved than that; he scoops you up, blanket and all, lifting you with an ease that drips of his superior android strength. When he deposits you on the floor, he’s careful to make sure you’ve caught your balance before he lets go, catching the blanket before it can fall. Thoughtful.

As always, V’s eyes are darting over your face, no doubt dissecting every inch of your expression to identify how you’re feeling. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this, especially with the way your heart is pounding—no one’s ever lifted you before and it’s, uh. It’s a lot.

“Are you sure you’re okay? The pace of your breathing has increased.”

Ha. Yeah, being blatantly stared at by some godlike man moments after you’ve woken up is totally cool and fine and not overwhelming at all. You’re definitely not breathless from a combination of V’s face and the fact he’d picked you up like you were weightless.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I’m gonna… go and shower then make breakfast and stuff. Yep.”

V’s eyes light up. “Can I help?” A fleeting image of V rubbing a soapy loofah over your naked skin fills you with spine-tingling trepidation before he finishes his sentence. “I want to learn how to cook.”

Your chest deflates with relief (and absolutely not disappointment), air rushing out of you. Thank God.

“Oh, breakfast? Sure.” You’d been planning on cereal, but faced with V’s overwhelming enthusiasm, maybe you’ll go for something marginally more complicated. Scrambled eggs sound good. “Um. Do you need to download the food preparation package or whatever you mentioned before? Do you… uh, do you need the Wifi password to do that? I never changed it from the random string of letters off the back of the router, but I can go check it for you.”

V shakes his head. “No, I want to learn like a human would,” he says. The blanket in his arms crumples as he tightens his grip in his eagerness, all but bouncing up and down on his feet. “You can teach me.”

Your chest could cave in with how cute he is, every part of you turning to thick gouache that drips down to the floor, leaving a mess of brightness and colour.

This time you ask him to wait in the kitchen while you’re in the bathroom, rather than lurking on the doorstep like he had last night, and he’s practically vibrating with excitement when you reappear. He stays like that the whole time you cook, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, staring as you make yourself scrambled eggs and more toast; you let V take ownership of that part, and he stares at the toaster so intently you have to stifle a laugh.

He spreads butter exactly the same way as you. Not that there’s a specific art to it, or a massive variety in techniques—he’s just spreading butter, not painting a new Mona Lisa—but the way he holds the knife and runs it over the bread is an exact echo of your motions from last night. He might not have downloaded files into his memory (brain?) like another android might, but his mechanical origin is obvious in the way he learns. They’re an exact replication of your actions rather than something new of his own.

“So, uh.” You push the last bit of egg around your plate, brown crumbs sticking to the wedge of golden yellow, sullying it. “V.”

Blink, blink. His lashes are so long, eyes so inquisitive. “Yes?”

“I’m really happy you’re here and that you trust me—” at this, V smiles and you almost fumble over your words at its radiance—“but I feel like I should tell you that I don’t really know much about androids?”

V is unperturbed. “That’s okay. You don’t have to.”

He clearly isn’t bothered that you’re way out of your depth, but you hate feeling lost like this. “Alright, but… I want you to be comfortable. I’m already planning to get more clothes, but if there’s anything else you need, just let me know. Okay?”

“Why can’t I just wear your clothes?”

Oh, he’s going to be the death of you, all wide-eyed innocence.

“For starters, most of them won’t fit properly,” you explain. “And you shouldn’t just have to wear my old stuff that I don’t use anymore? You should have your own things.”

The look of surprise on V’s face morphs into guilt only moments later. He’s so incredibly expressive and you wonder if it’s because he’s not used to feeling things, all of his reactions so strong and bright, shining out from him. A rainbow palette of emotions. “I don’t want to be a bother,” he murmurs. “You’re already doing so much for me.”

“I’m really not, I’m just treating you the way anyone deserves to be treated.” You flick the crumb of egg across your plate, and it almost tumbles over the edge, caught on its patterned rim. “You deserve to have your own things. Which is my next point. I think you should choose your own name.”

V’s face becomes a sea of rippling ambivalence, contrasting emotions that shift and vary—confusion, uncertainty, excitement, your words a brush that drags through each distinct emotion and pulls them into a messy, mismatched gradient. “Choose my own name?”

“You don’t have to. I just thought it might be a nice idea. V seems…” Your cheeks heat up at the memory of the curl of his lips when he’d shown you the meaning behind his alias, how his tongue had shined under the purple lights of the club. “Well, you didn’t get to choose it, right? It’s a nom de plume, rather than a real name.”

V’s LED flickers yellow, a sunflower that blooms on his temple. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Good!” Your smile is wide. “Okay, how about I teach you how to wash dishes?”

V is, unsurprisingly, a fast learner. The only time he stumbles over things is when he’s presented with any sort of choice, taking his time to come to a decision when he’s posed a question, no matter how simple it is. His eyes will flick to you whenever he settles on an answer, as if waiting for you to say he’s wrong or that you disagree.

(Of course, you never do.)

This fact does, however, mean that choosing clothes to buy becomes a very, very long ordeal (it’s lucky you didn’t have any plans for today). You end up flopped back on the sofa while V hunches over your tablet, mulling over each choice before he puts it in the cart—but you’re happy to wait. V is going to need a lot more practice at choosing things.

The room is upside down from where your head is hanging over the armrest, eyes falling shut as time goes by, completely zoned out and comfortable despite the crick that’s growing in your neck. You hear V shifting, tablet set aside, and you hum.

“All done?”

“I think so.”

“Nice.” You feel content.

But then you’re ripped out of that warm feeling, shooting back to reality at the sensation of V’s hand stroking down the centre of your chest. Your head snaps up, eyes wide as he drags his large palm between the valley of your breasts, path smoothed by the material of your shirt. The expression on his face is sultry.

“Let me say thank you,” he murmurs, voice dripping thick and sweet, dark molasses.

You promptly roll off the sofa.

Once again, you end up on your back, staring at the ceiling. Once again, the expression on V’s face is one of concern, his seductive facade evaporated in an instant.

Once again your heart is ready to burst in your chest, pumping so hard that blood rushes in your ears. “V,” you wheeze. “What are you doing?”

The android is peering down at you, puzzled. “Sometimes customers would say that at the Eden Club after I had given them pleasure somehow, such as bringing them to orgasm. I thought it was human custom to repay pleasure or happiness with something in return.”

Ah.

“Ah.” You’re still staring at the ceiling, cheeks burning. “I mean. I guess that’s not technically incorrect, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be a, uh, sexual repayment.”

“I have nothing else to offer,” V says.

You sit up. Your face is a caricature of disbelief, embarrassment washed away in an instant, his words cold water that shocks you to the core. He states it so plainly, and once again you’re reminded of his life up until he’d made his way to your door: an automaton who existed solely for people’s pleasure, to slake their desire and lust. He’s not being self-pitying. He really, truly believes that’s all he is. That it’s all he can give back to the world.

“Okay, no, that’s absolutely not true, nuh-uh, I refuse.” This time you unfold yourself from the floor without V’s help, fixing him with a firm stare. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time you learned something else.”

One of the reasons you’d chosen this apartment is for its natural light. Not that it matters right now, weather outside still dismal and overcast, but its effect on this room is still palpable even so—grey, rain-soaked light throws itself over your small home studio, your menagerie of equipment, everything bright with the evidence of use: the worn buckles of the wooden storage boxes, the dried smears on the paint palette, the flecks of colour on the dust sheets underfoot. The centre of it all—the eye of the tornado, untouched by the relative chaos around it—is the canvas waiting on your easel, a project you have yet to start.

V looks utterly enraptured.

“I don’t really come in here as much as I’d like,” you admit. Being a graphic designer is worlds away from the sort of art you love to create, and while it’s a job you genuinely enjoy (and also pays well), it leaves you drained and fills your brain with tired static, little energy left to lavish on your personal works. “But this is where the magic happens. And this is where you’re going to Make Art.”

V freezes. “The only things I know about art are the things you told me when we first met.” He looks equal parts excited but also troubled. “I—”

“You don’t need to know about art to make art,” you say. “I didn’t know jack about art when I was a kid and I was constantly just scribbling away with crayons. Was it good? No. I was a kid with zero pen control, it was pretty crap. Was it worth my time? Yes, because any time spent involved in a craft is never wasted. We can learn more about art history and technique later.”

V stays quiet as you loop your apron over his head, rough material still bearing the remnants of your last works, stains that won’t come out. Oil based paints are kind of a bitch like that.

“I don’t know what to paint,” he says.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to,” you reply, an echo of his earlier words.

V looks lost, barefoot in your studio, in your clothes, your apron, holding onto your wooden paint palette, in front of your easel. Everything in here is yours. Everything, that is, apart from him, whatever is in his mind and heart.

“Where do I start?” V’s eyes are imploring as he looks at you, but for the first time today, your voice is firm.

“Wherever you want. There aren’t any rules. Just do whatever you think would be fun. It doesn’t have to look good, V, you’ve just started.”

You’ve seen paintings made by androids before. They’re always perfect recreations of the world around them, exact replicas of the things they’ve been told to depict on the page—the androids are basically glorified photocopiers, unable to create something original and new.

But they’re not V. They don’t have that spark of curiosity and light inside them, unhampered by the programming that’s meant to keep them in place. His LED dances from yellow to blue, yellow to blue, the rest of his body motionless while the light on his temple is a tumult of movement and colour.

Dark eyes slide over the array of paint hanging from a rack on the wall, some metal tubes more crushed than others, evidence of your preferred shades—you notice how his gaze lingers on the midnight tones, red and blue tinted purples, from lavender to lilac, from plum to wine.

V gives you one more look, a little upturn to his thick brows—almost pleading—and you just gesture with your hand.

“Go for it,” you say.

Your wooden palette becomes home to a riot of purple, each tube squeezed empty with careful hands, far more paint than anyone could possibly ever need. V keeps flicking you glances, but you stay silent, perched on a wooden chair by the now open window, rain-slick air a cold breath on your skin.

The brush the android selects is a wide, bold thing, bristles rough. He handles it like bone china, delicate and liable to shatter any moment, cautious as he dips it into the paint—it’s so wide it picks up three separate shades—and he holds his breath as he brings it up, even if he doesn’t have lungs.

The second the bristles touch the canvas, V’s LED flickers red.

Just for an instant.

He swoops the brush down the canvas as he pulls it away, eyes wide, leaving a slash of purples in its wake. The white material is marred with colour, a textured line of pigment that can’t be erased.

The android pauses as he takes the sight in. He’s still for so long that you’re worried he’s shut down, even with the endlessly dancing circle of his LED—

But then V laughs.

His laugh is loud and bright and free, a series of deep, almost surprised chuckles that grow in intensity and breathlessness, staring at this smear of drying acrylic paint in front of him. The smile on his face is the widest you’ve seen so far, his eyes squeezed into crescents of joy, spilling out of him like light.

“I did that.” He looks at you with that gilded smile, a fresco of delight across the perfection of his features. “I made that.”

“You did.” You can’t help but smile back, your own face split with happiness. You continue to smile as he brings the brush back to the palette, and then to the canvas, dragging the bristles across its surface and leaving more purple behind; the shades swirl and mix as he lays colour without a care for technique or clean lines or form, scooping up the endless amounts of acrylic he’d prepared. By the time he’s finished, the canvas is bumpy with daubs of paint, laid messily by joyful hands, a few bold streaks of unmarred colour surrounded by swirling purples.

The smile hasn’t left V’s face the whole time.

His brush is absolutely saturated, paint clinging to every inch of bristle, from toe to belly to heel. You have no doubt that no matter how much you clean that brush it’ll leak purple into the water, an endless reminder of V’s touch. It’s lax in his grasp as he keeps looking at the canvas, his canvas, smile etched into his face as his LED flows soft blue, content.

You can’t remember the last time you saw someone so elated, buoyed up with the excitement of creation, making something out of nothing, discovering how it feels to bring something into existence, pulling it out of the ether. Making something new. Making something their own. It stirs something in your chest and stomach, reminding you why you love art so much. Why you’ve always loved art. (Why you always will.)

“I made that,” V repeats, his voice a reverent hush. Awestruck.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, because it is—for a multitude of reasons. The reason that sings out to you the most, though, is that it’s the cause of happiness that dances across his face: V, a carved candle, a piece of art made with skilled hands, self-made joy finally catching fire at his wick.

“Thank you,” V says, and you blink.

“For what?”

“For giving me this,” he starts, but before you can interject and point out that you didn’t give him this, he made it, he continues: “For giving me… freedom. To do this. And make this. And learn this.”

The smile that spreads across your face is warm hearth fire. “I didn’t give you freedom, V, you gave that to yourself, but I’m happy to help you any way I can. Now, would you like to keep painting, or would you prefer to help me make dinner?”

He chooses dinner, never leaving your side.

Sunday is nice. There's less messy limbed surprise than on Saturday, although you’re still off kilter when you wake up with your head in V’s lap again, but… it’s nice.

You thought he’d spend the night painting, or drawing, or teaching himself something new using the free rein you’d given him with your computer and notebooks and stationery and art supplies—he doesn’t have to waste time with sleep, like you do—but he hadn’t. He’d climbed into your bed, settling against the pillows just like the night before, looking at you with his big, lovely eyes.

So here he is.

(And here you are.)

It’s cosy and comfortable, even if the feeling of warm skin under warm cotton against your cheek sets your heart to racing, V’s dark eyes even warmer when you roll over to look at his face.

“Morning,” he says.

“Morning,” you reply, and then you yawn, V’s lashes fluttering as he takes in the motion. “What time is it?”

Today’s rain is less of an endless downpour and more of an inconsistent drizzle, grey blanket slowly peeling away from the edges of the city, but it doesn’t matter, because you’re inside for most of the day, anyway. Saturday was hands-on, messy with acrylic and spilled coffee and laundry detergent (V really wants to learn everything), but Sunday is hands-off. You spend the day dredging the corners of your memory and scrolling through old, untouched files from your university years, so you can teach V the things he wants to know while relearning the things you’d forgotten yourself.

V’s little LED dances forever from blue into yellow, ocean waves lapping into sand, a shifting tide as he takes in your words. You’ve never had to teach someone before and you’re admittedly pretty terrible at it, but he never complains, the world’s most attentive and adorable student, sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his hair mussed and his eyes wide, drinking down everything you show him.

You only leave the apartment once. Lunch is delayed when you open your fridge and remember how bereft and sad it is inside, so you venture out into the rain to the nearby supermarket—V opts to stay indoors, LED flickering red at the idea of being caught, shying back.

You leave him looking lost and lonely before the door even finishes swinging shut behind you, long limbs looking even longer in your clothes, but somehow still so small.

“I won’t be long,” you promise.

When you get back, you return not only with bags of food but also clothes, V’s order from yesterday already shipped and delivered. He can finally replace your too-small clothing with things he’s chosen himself. It’s a fumble to get in the door, but the android is waiting for you, swinging it open and catching the bag you nearly drop in surprise.

“I have your clothes,” you announce. “I’ll put away the shopping while you try them on?”

You’re going to have to tattoo a reminder on your forehead about V’s relationship (or lack thereof) with clothes, because of course he takes this as an invitation to start stripping before you’ve even had a chance to take your shoes off.

He does that thing where he grabs the back of his (your) shirt and pulls it over his head in one swift motion, curls of hair a cloud of smoke that settles around his face as the shirt is cast aside; you’re frozen in place as he reaches for the knot of his sweatpant’s drawstring, long fingers pulling it loose, but you let out a sharp meep just as his fingers hook into the waistband of them.

“PleasewaituntilI’mnotrightinfrontofyouthankyou,” you gasp all at once, words incoherent as they slide together, but V understands. He tilts his head at you inquisitively although he (thankfully) stops.

“Don’t you want to see the clothes?”

“I do, but, uh, for humans it’s normally customary to only get entirely naked or change clothes when you’re alone.” Your heart is going to burst out of your chest with how fast it’s racing. Without the string to cinch the sweatpants tight they’re starting to fall a little, revealing the delicate lines of his hip bones, and coupled with the reappearance of V’s bare stomach, your brain is going into meltdown. “So just—just give me a sec to go to the kitchen, okay? You’re probably better off changing in the bedroom, anyway, so you can use the full length mirror to see how you look.”

“Okay,” he says, but then: “Do humans never undress around others unless they’re planning to have sex?”

Your mouth falls open before you pause, words halting on your lips as you try to think of the best way to phrase your answer. “Well, we do, it’s not just about sex, but it’s usually only if you’re really comfortable with the other person you’re with, and they’re comfortable with you.”

“I’m comfortable with you,” V states plainly, and your insides turn to jelly. “Are you not comfortable with me?”

Oh, hell. “I am, I am! I’m just, uh… I’ve not really had a lot of practice with nakedness around other people.” What a way to put that you’re a shy ass virgin when it comes to real life nudity and sex, huh. “So let’s just keep it to a minimum for now, okay? Please?”

The android’s LED flickers honey-sweet on his temple as he looks at you, before his hands fall away from the sweatpants. “Okay.”

(Thank God.)

You’re not sure what you’re expecting to see when V starts to present his small array of outfits to you, but—he looks effortlessly stylish in the oversized clothes he’s selected, a muted palette of brown and yellow and red and cream, a cup of hot chocolate on an autumn day. He might be new to all this but his eye for aesthetic is impeccable. You have no doubt that the more he learns, the better he’ll get, hop-skip-jumps ahead of you, even after years of art education.

He’s even bought pyjamas, dark tartan patterns masculine but also adorable; it’s an utter juxtaposition to the tighter, sensual clothing he’d been given at the Eden Club.

“You look really good,” you tell him. Your voice is only a little strained. He smiles.

The outfit V wears for the rest of the afternoon is perfect for a rainy day spent indoors, thick jumper and tawny trousers, a blend of sepia tones. He looks like if you made a hug into a person: all soft edges and cosy and wrapped up in warmth.

And V is warm. You’re not sure if it’s a lingering memory of his programming, a carry over from his start in life as a sexbot, but he likes to touch—nothing inappropriate or overbearing, but he’s not shy about stepping into your personal space, brushing the back of your hand with his fingers as he points at something on the screen, or pressing close to your side as you cook, or just one of the hundreds of other tiny touches that he’s littered across you throughout the day. It’s thoughtless on his part, LED not even flickering, but each time is just another reminder of his warmth, the blue blood pulsing under his skin, how alive he is.

(And the truth is that you enjoy those touches. You’re not used to them, but lord knows you’re touch starved, so as fleeting as they are, they’re nice.)

Even though you still leave plenty of space between the two of you when you lay to sleep, you swear you can feel the heat spilling off V, another warm body in the bed that’s so used to just one. Though he stays sitting up, he’s in his cute matching pyjamas, and it’s… it’s a lot. You’ve invited V into your home—and you don’t regret it—but after two days he’s already settled in in a way you never thought anyone else would, as entirely unconventional as the whole situation is. (You’re not sure how many people have sheltered a deviant android in their homes, though, so maybe this isn’t as unconventional as you think. Who knows? Not you.)

“I have to go to work tomorrow.”

V tilts his head down to look at you.

“You can get up to whatever you’d like,” you continue. You’re propped up on an elbow so it’s less intimate than if you’d been on your back and staring upwards like you were waiting for him to slide down next to you (that’s what it feels like, to you, anyway). “You know the password for my computer now, and you’re welcome to watch TV or play games or whatever, and you can use all my stuff in the studio. I mean, other than painting or drawing over stuff I’ve already finished, but you’re welcome to grab any paper or canvases if you want them. I think that’s everything? But please let me know if there’s more you want or need, okay?”

Blink, blink. His lashes are soft charcoal that frames the spilled ink of his gaze. In the dimmed light of your room V is unreadable, his LED a quiet blue glow on his temple, but he looks soft, and he looks safe, and he nods.

“Alright,” he says. A smile that flickers at the edge of his lips. “I will.”

(You wake up, quiet and slow, face pillowed against V’s thigh, still drifting in sleep. You make a small noise, eyes shut, wondering why there’s no blaring sound of your alarm, but then a large hand smooths over your hair and you instinctively relax under the soft touch.

“You have thirty three minutes until you’re due to wake up,” he murmurs. “You can go back to sleep.”

So you do.)

(When you wake up to the scream of your alarm thirty three minutes later, you don’t remember any of this. All you can think of is the dawn of another Monday, the slog of another working week, and you sigh. But—

“Morning.”

V’s eyes are dark meok ink, liquid earth that grounds you.

“Morning,” you say, smiling despite yourself, and then roll out of bed to get the whole day started.)

You’re used to spending a day surrounded by laughter and banter, wrapped up in the camaraderie of your co-workers and friends, only to return to a world of quiet solitude. You’re used to coming home to rooms that are untouched from the morning, holding onto the echo of your passing, still and waiting for your return, an apartment of motionless air.

But not today. There’s evidence of someone else here: the open door to your studio down the hall, the scattered books on the coffee table, the mess of cushions on the sofa, all small signs that someone has been moving and living in your absence. A still-life that’s shifted into a breathing trompe l’oeil, V’s presence bringing flatness into perspective, turning it into something real.

It’s… nice.

You flop onto the sofa and send one of those cushions overboard, tumbling to the ground. V appears in the doorway moments later, new apron already streaked with colour, copper green thumbprint on his face like he’d touched it in thought and not realised. A little streak of paint that draws the eye to his lovely chin.

“Welcome home!” His hair is blond today, a golden nimbus around his face, though his eyes are still dark. Light and shadow. His happiness is infectious and you smile helplessly back, glad for his excitement with painting—but it seems like he hasn’t finished. “I’m happy you’re home. I missed you.”

KO. Wipeout. Your heart turns to liquid in your chest, burnt sugar that dribbles hot and saccharine through your ribs.

“I chose a name.” V continues, oblivious to how he’s turned your insides into syrup, and you abruptly sit up.

“Oh?”

“Taehyung.” The way he says it, in his deep voice, those two syllables are endless—a single name, heavy with the weight of meaning behind it. A shedding of his old skin, one that was forced on him, leaving him pink-skinned and new and free.

“Taehyung,” you repeat, and his LED flickers at the sound falling off your lips. “Taehyung. It’s lovely.”

He’s smiling, that lovely toothy smile that you’ve already decided is your favourite out of any smile you’ve seen, his LED electric blue and swirling in delight.

Day after day, you wake up to the sight of that LED glowing as Taehyung watches you lift up out of sleep. Night after night, you come home to his lovely, big grin, all large hands and soft hair—hair that he chooses to change colour when he pleases, a dizzying palette with every shade you can dream of. He’s bright and deep, playful and reflective, a dance of flirty Rococo to more solemn Baroque, every day another day where he learns and grows and adds another facet to the cut diamond of his personality.

(It hasn’t been long but you’re starting to think you’d put the world in the palm of his hand, if you could.)

You never thought you’d live to see the day where someone as lovely as Taehyung would be glad to see you home, having missed you after being apart—but for all that he’s voraciously leaning into the arts, consuming everything from visual to literary to performance, he’s never happier than when you’re there too. He shows you his works, improvement obvious with every new piece, but his excitement grows tenfold when you start to paint alongside him; seeing him so joyful spurs you to pick your brushes up again, buoyed up with motivation in the face of his own.

(Your studio is usually quiet, a little reflective maybe, the only sound the music you play over your speakers—but now more often than not you and Taehyung will talk, and laugh, and even if you’ve both ebbed into silence, it’s never heavy. It’s a held breath. The potential to speak any moment. The sensation of another person in the same space as you, an orbit, both existing in a shared moment, connected by gossamer threads that shimmer with sunlight.

Taehyung’s eyes are steady on his canvas as he works, but he glances at you through the curl of his lashes, smiling back at you. Always, always smiling, LED calm blue as the rest of his face shines golden, bright.)

(Maybe it’s selfish, but you think you could get used to this.)

taglist: @beyoncesdragon

#btswritingcafe #magicshopnet #btswriterscollective #taehyung x reader #bts #taehyung x you #taehyung au #bts au #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #android taehyung #robot taehyung #look you know the drill by now: I don't know how to tag effectively #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #joy.masterlist #dbh is so good guys. I love connor. like. an alarming amount.

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writemywaytoyourheart · 3 years

Text

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 3: Plan B

Pairing: hitman!jk x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst

WC: 5.1k

Warnings for this chapter: language (jk will continue to have a potty mouth), a gun, attempted murder

Tag list; @hopekookies @moonchild1 @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @sugaslittlekookies @jaebeomsblackgf @moon-asia

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

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"Excuse m-me, sir."

Jungkook turns and his heart stops in his chest when he sees the wide eyes of a horribly familiar girl staring up at him.

You're clutching a piece of paper in your hands as a smile spreads on your face when you look at him closer. Jungkook blinks a few times, the rest of him frozen in horror at being caught.

"Th-This is for you." You hold out the paper.

Jungkook takes it limply, his eyes never leaving yours.

When the initial shock leaves his body, he tears his eyes away from you and looks down at what you gave him. He squints in confusion at what he sees. Then he looks back up at his target.

What the hell is this?

"Uh-"

"I hope it isn't c-creepy. I j-just thought it might make you s-smile." You brighten when he looks back down at the picture.

Jungkook swallows thickly.

On the piece of notebook paper, is a terribly drawn picture. But that isn't what's gotten his attention. On it, is an image of what he can only guess to be himself, sitting on a bench.

He looks back up at you, "Um, I don't understand..." His voice gives out on him as he fights the urge to bolt. Everything about this situation is telling him to run. You know him. You've known he was following you.

But you aren't outright telling him that you know...

What the hell does he do now?

You smile shyly, a small blush creeping up your cheeks. "I know it m-must seem weird. But p-please let m-me explain."

He nods uncertainly, forcing his feet to stay planted where he is.

"Ok," You wring your hands together and he watches in confusion as you blink a few times. "O-Ok, I like to d-draw. And sometimes when I d-don't have anything else to draw, I draw p-people. Then I give them the p-picture as a present to make them h-happy!" You bounce a little on the balls of your feet.

"But-..." Jungkook scratches his neck. "When did you do this?" He's starting to think maybe he's out of the line of fire. Perhaps he jumped to conclusions and you don't suspect him of following you at all.

You put a finger to your chin as you think about that. Then you tap your cheek, blinking hard a few times. "Mmm, I think it was Wednesday? Maybe Thursday..." You start mumbling to yourself.

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you curiously.

He looks around, no one seems to be paying attention to the two of you. Good, he can't be seen as one of the last people to be with you.

You suddenly speak up again, drawing his attention back to you.

"W-Well, anyway. I decided to m-make it and give it to you b-because you looked sad. Are y-you lonely?" You look up at him with big eyes and he blinks, looking away for a second to regain his composure.

Damn, she's nosy.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks back at you, "I'm not lonely. And as much as I appreciate the thought, I don't need this." Then he shoves the picture into your chest, making you flinch and grab it.

"Have a good day." He says curtly, then he turns and walks as quickly as he can away from the situation.

After a minute of walking, Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that. He messed up. Now he really needs to get this done quickly before the target figures anything out for real this time.

The relief is short-lived though. A second later, he flinches when he hears a voice calling out to him and the sound of feet running.

"Wait! Mister, p-please wait!"

Jungkook pulls his hat down further and picks up his pace, trying to find a crowd he can lose you in.

He's squeezing in-between people and pushing past others, ignoring their sounds of annoyance. Then a hand grabs the sleeve of his jacket and he internally groans.

Shit, she's fast.

Jungkook shakes you off of him and turns to glare at you.

"What?" He snaps.

You blink and cock your head to the side for a second before straightening it out, a crooked smile forming on your face.

"I w-wasn't able to introduce m-myself." You state simply.

Jungkook audibly sighs, "Look, I'm busy."

"Oh." Your face falls and he resists the urge to roll his eyes.

You look at the ground for a second, then you look back at him, your eyes bright again and the smile back on your face. "P-Please, take the picture. I have n-no room in my bag f-for it."

Jungkook sighs again and snatches the picture out of your hands, "Fine. Happy?" He waves it in the air before folding it and sticking it in his jacket pocket.

You nod happily, "My n-name is ____."

I know.

"Alright." He looks away, trying to give you the hint that he's done with the conversation.

"What's y-your name?"

Gosh, she never shuts up, does she?

"Jungkook."

...

...Fuck.

Why in the literal hell would he say his real name just now?

He wasn't thinking. He just wanted you to shut up.

You see the look of pure panic on his face and laugh to make him feel better, "Nice t-to meet you, J-Jungkook." He must have trouble talking with people, you think.

"Ok, well yeah, it was nice to meet you. Thank you for the picture. Goodbye." He turns and all but runs off, finally disappearing into a crowd.

You watch him go into the big crowd and you smile, he was so kind. Giggling and looking down at your fingers, you turn and start making your way home. _______________

Jungkook hauls ass all the way back to his place, constantly making sudden turns and glancing around to make sure you're not hot on his heels.

When he finally makes it up the stairs and into his apartment, he locks the door and yanks his shoes off, hurling them at the front door and flinching when they slam against it loudly.

There aren't enough curse words in his vocabulary for him to scream into his pillow that would satisfy him right now. He starts to shake, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as his brain goes into overdrive trying to figure out what to do now.

He's never been caught.

Not once.

He's never even been close to getting caught.

In and out, one and done.

That's how it's always been for him.

Jungkook takes his hat off and tosses it onto the tiny dining table, then he walks over to his bed and flops onto it, face down.

"I quit." He mumbles into the comforter forlornly.

Then he lays there for a minute, contemplating everything.

"I can't quit..." He mutters to himself a second later.

It's impossible.

He can't quit.

He just needs to get it over with tonight.

No more hesitating, no more distractions, no more overthinking. It doesn't matter that she saw his face and knows his name. She'll be dead by morning anyway, and it's not like her friend is here for her to tell anything about him to.

Once he's calmed himself down enough to think clearly, Jungkook gets up and moves to his closet to pull out the safe. He puts in the code and it swings open when he gives it a little tug. He takes out the gun that he failed to use the other night, then he unloads it, pouring the little bullets onto his bed. Jungkook counts them before reloading them, then he dumps them out again, counting them before once again reloading them.

He does this whenever he needs to think, it helps him concentrate. When he's unloaded and reloaded it four times, he's finally able to take a deep breath. He sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging for a minute before he lifts it and stares at the wall. _______________

When you get home, you kick your shoes off and head straight to the kitchen to grab a snack. You grab a little drinkable yogurt and grin as you open it up and take a sip.

Then you move to sit on your couch, still gently sipping your yogurt. When you're almost halfway done with your snack, you pull out your phone and text Mina.

You 4:32- Mina, I met someone today ^-^

Then you toss your phone next to you and grab your TV remote, turning it on you quickly find the drama you're currently binging and you hit play.

After a few minutes, you hear your phone bling. You pause the show and grab it to see Mina has answered you.

Mina 4:40- YOU WHAT? WHO

You laugh quietly and you're typing a reply when a picture of you and Mina making silly faces pops up on the screen and the ringtone you made special for her starts ringing. You answer it quickly, laughing when she shouts through the phone immediately.

"WAS IT A BOY??" She shrieks, almost breaking your eardrums.

"Y-Yeah." You can feel the blush creeping up your neck at her next words.

"Is he cute? Is he single?"

"M-Mina!" You cry in embarrassment, "It isn't l-like that."

You hear a disappointed sigh leave her lips, "Well, what is it like then?" She asks in curiosity.

"I gave him a p-picture that I drew. He t-took it, Mina! He didn't say I was c-creepy like the other girl did." You're grinning from ear to ear.

She laughs quietly as she realizes what this is about. "Ohh, so you drew a picture of him and gifted it to him?"

"Yup!"

"That's so sweet of you, ____. And he actually took it?"

You nod, then remember she can't see you.

"Y-Yes, he took it. He said th-thank you, and he told m-me his name!"

Mina laughs again at your excitement, "What's his name?"

"Jungkook."

"Ohhh," There's a teasing hint to her tone, "Sounds like a name fit for a cute guy. So, was he cute?"

You bite your lip then whisper, "Uh, yes. He was c-cute."

"Awww! ____ has her first cruuuush!" Mina shrieks again and you shake your head.

"No, Mina. I d-don't have a crush on h-him! I just thought he was n-nice. He seemed like he would m-make a good friend." You pull at the hem of your skirt, your knees tucked up to your chin.

You hear her giggle on the other side, then her tone turns serious. "Ok, you're right ____. No man is good enough to date my sweet best friend. Don't you dare pursue him until I get there and give my approval!"

You roll your eyes, "I'm not going to p-pursue him at all, silly."

You two chat for a couple of minutes, then you let her go because you both need to figure something out for dinner soon.

You decide to finish the episode of the drama, but you can't resist and watch a few more after it. By the time you're able to peel your eyes away from the TV, the sun is starting to go down. You rub your eyes in confusion, I didn't realize how many episodes I watched.

You stretch your arms above your head and yawn, "Ah, I should g-get some d-dinner," You stand up to go to your kitchen and scrounge around. You come up with a few pieces of celery, half a jar of kimchi, and one hard-boiled egg.

You scrunch your nose at the emptiness of the fridge. You'll just have to go to the grocery store tomorrow. But until then, you decide to just go out and get something to eat for dinner and maybe find something for your lunch tomorrow.

You pull your tennis shoes on and grab your bucket hat, plopping it onto your head. It doesn't go with the rest of your pastel outfit, but you don't really care. If it's comfy, then it's a win for you.

Then you take your bag and sling it over your shoulder. Remembering to lock the door, you leave and head down the stairs. _______________

Jungkook thanks the man at the food stand as he takes the fishcake skewer and hands his money to the man. Then he bows and turns to make his way through the crowds of people that always come out at night in Seoul.

He finds a bench in a park a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the city, so he sits there and takes a deep breath of the crisp evening air. Jungkook takes a bite of his fishcake, chewing it thoughtfully as he goes over the new plan of action in his head.

A few people pass by while he sits there, one of them is a small girl with her mother. She reminds Jungkook of that little girl, Mi-Rah, from the other day. His throat constricts when he remembers the child's words to him. Then he scoffs and takes another bite of fishcake, chewing it aggressively. If that annoying kid hadn't distracted him, he wouldn't be sitting out here right now trying to come up with a new plan...stupid.

Jungkook finishes his food, then he stretches his long limbs out, grunting from exhaustion. This hit is really taking a mental toll on him for literally no reason at all. He can't wait to be done with it.

He rubs his hands together and stands up, stretching a bit more before heading in the direction of the target's home.

He's going to finish this.

Tonight.

When Jungkook is a few blocks from her apartment, he slows down and glances around before slipping into the dark alleyway from the other night. Once he's in the dark, he slips the gun from his pocket and checks the bullets. It's an obsessive thing at this point, but it makes him feel more secure.

He slides the last bullet back in, then-

"Jungkook?"

The gun clatters to the ground with a loud sound as Jungkook whips around to see the one person he doesn't want to see at this moment.

Gosh fucking damn it all to hell.

You're standing there, looking up at him from under your bucket hat. Jungkook scans you quickly, noticing you're still in your light yellow skirt and pink blouse from earlier. You have some bags in your hands as you smile at him.

You don't seem to have taken notice of the fact that he literally just dropped the gun he was going to shoot you with. So, Jungkook quickly kicks it to the side, relieved when it slides behind a bag of trash.

"Uhm, hi...____, right?" It takes all his willpower not to fumble over his words after being caught for the second time on the same day.

You nod happily at the fact that he remembered your name, "Yes! F-Funny to run into y-you again!"

Jungkook chuckles dryly, "Yeah, what a coincidence."

You gesture to him with one of the bags in your hands, "D-Do you live n-near here?"

Jungkook's nose twitches, but he keeps a straight face. "No, I just...I was out for a walk."

"Ohh! Night walks are th-the best."

"Mhm.." Jungkook looks around, trying to figure out what he should do. Maybe he should just do it now...yeah, that's the best idea.

"So, what did you buy?" Jungkook asks suddenly, gesturing towards your bags. You take the bait instantly and brighten, bending down to place your bags on the ground so you can show him.

The second you aren't looking, Jungkook crouches and grabs the gun from behind the trash bag he kicked it towards.

"Well, now. L-Let me see." You're crouched on your heels, looking through the bags. Jungkook cocks the gun and raises it, his finger on the trigger.

"I've g-got an apple, that was from the k-kind old woman at the fruit s-stand-"

He's about to pull it when another voice rings out in the alley.

"Miss ___! Is that you?"

Jungkook quickly brings the gun down, switching it to safety and stuffing it into the front of his pants. Clearly, he isn't thinking straight right now.

You look up at that moment and glance behind Jungkook before a smile of recognition lights up your face. "Ohh! Mr. Ch-Chang! What are y-you doing out this l-late at night?"

Jungkook bites his lip in pure frustration and turns to see an older man smiling at the pair of you. "I was taking my trash out, and I thought I'd heard your voice coming from over here."

You grab your bags and scoot past Jungkook to greet the older man properly, "It's s-so nice to see you. It's b-been a l-long time!"

Mr. Chang smiles and nods, "It has indeed. And who is this handsome young fellow?"

He looks around you at Jungkook, who screams internally, not knowing anything that could make this situation worse.

"That's m-my new friend, Jungkook."

Oh, ok. So, that makes it worse. Good.

Not only was his plan foiled, but this old man now has a visual and a name to put to someone should anything happen to you.

Great, just great.

"Ah, it's very nice to meet you, Jungkook." Mr. Chang holds out a shaky hand and Jungkook takes it and gives it a shake. "Oh, this one's got a good shake." The old man winks at you and you laugh.

Jungkook forces a smile onto his face.

He's always been good at charming people, that's what makes him so good at his job.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Chang." He says politely.

"Well, very good. Very good. What do you say we all get out of this creepy old alley? Let's get into the light." Mr. Chang leads you and Jungkook out until the street lamps pour golden artificial light onto the three of you. Jungkook wants to flinch away, it feels like the light is exposing all the dirty little secrets he's got hidden away.

But he remains stoic.

You and the man exchange a few words before Mr. Chang clears his throat, "Alright dear, I really am an old man, I must be heading to bed. Jungkook," Jungkook looks up from where he was staring at the ground, "Hm?"

"Be a good lad and walk my young friend home?" He looks at Jungkook with such kind and trusting eyes that Jungkook finds himself looking away.

"Of course." He mumbles.

This man doesn't suspect a thing. He has no idea that the guy he's asking to protect his friend is the one that was about to kill her for a hefty price, and would have if he hadn't been interrupted.

"Thank you. You two stay safe and I'll see you again, ___."

"Goodnight, M-Mr. Chang!" You wave to him as he slowly makes his way around the corner. Then you turn to Jungkook and smile.

Jungkook briefly wonders if your cheeks ever get sore from smiling all the time.

"I l-live this way." You raise an arm to the right, the bag hanging from it dangles. Jungkook nods, then he starts to walk. You need to jog to catch up to him, his long legs take huge strides as he hurries down the street.

The walk is silent, you sensing that Jungkook isn't really in the mood to talk. But it takes a lot of willpower for you not to start asking him different questions to get to know him more.

When you've finally reached the stairs that lead up to your apartment, you huff in a breath.

"Hoo, I'm so t-tired." You laugh.

Jungkook looks at you, his face unchanging.

You hold up a bag, "Would y-you mind carrying th-this up for me? I'm sorry, it's gotten so h-heavy during the walk. And I n-never walk that f-fast."

Jungkook takes the bag with a sigh, then he turns and hurries up the stairs, leaving you to huff and puff up them slowly behind him.

When you reach your door, Jungkook sets the bag down on the ground and turns to leave, "Have a good night." He mumbles.

"W-Wait!"

He turns back to you, biting back another sigh.

"Th-Thank you...for today." You say softly, a hint of a smile on your lips.

"No problem." He says quickly before hurrying down the stairs and disappearing around a corner.

You unlock your door and bring in the bags, lugging them to the kitchen to start unpacking them. As you put the stuff you bought where it belongs in the kitchen, you think back on your day.

It's so crazy that when you were so lonely without Mina, you were able to talk to someone new! A spark of hope comes alive in your chest that maybe you've just made a new friend. Hopefully, you'll see him again and you can learn more about him.

You're so curious to know more about this dark and lonely stranger. _______________

Jungkook opens the door to his apartment, walking in slowly.

He shuts the door and locks it, then he pulls off his shoes and drops them by the front door. After that, he walks over to his bed, pulls his pants and shirt off, then climbs into bed.

Wrapped up in his covers, Jungkook stares straight ahead into the darkness.

"How the hell am I going to do this?" He whispers numbly.

His head is spinning with new plans and everything that's happened today, but he can't grasp a single one of those thoughts as they race by.

Hours pass by as Jungkook tries desperately to get his head clear enough for him to focus. Eventually, he passes out from pure exhaustion, falling into a fitful sleep.

The next morning, the sun slips through the blinds. The birds are just starting to sing their morning songs, their pretty little voices waking up the rest of the world.

Jungkook shoots straight up in bed, "That's it!" He shouts, then he claps his hand over his mouth, remembering how thin the walls are in this apartment complex.

A smirk spreads across his face as he takes his hand down, "Ah, thank goodness." Jungkook almost laughs out loud in relief at finding another solution.

He jumps out of bed and runs to the shower. It ends up being the shortest shower he's ever taken, he doesn't have any time to waste.

When he gets out, Jungkook grabs a bottle of chocolate milk and a banana before hurrying to get dressed and out the door. _______________

Jungkook arrives at the school before you, so he gets a paper and sits on the bench, as usual, waiting for you to appear.

It only takes ten minutes of waiting until he spots you across the street. Jungkook smiles to himself and waits patiently. Sure enough, you glance across the street and see him looking at you.

You feel a warm spark in your chest when you see your new friend sitting on the bench across the street from the school. You wave happily, delighted when he smiles and waves back. Then, he stands up and jogs across the street until he's standing right in front of you.

"Good morning, ____."

"Hi, J-Jungkook!" The smile on his face makes your cheeks warm as you look down at your feet.

Then you look back at him, "H-Hey, would you l-like to hang out t-today?" You ask suddenly, but hopefully, afraid he might turn you down instantly.

Instead, Jungkook's smile grows and he nods, "Sure. I'll meet you out here when you're off work."

"O-Ok." You grin at him, not expecting him to agree so fast. Then you look at the time, "I have t-to go. I'll see you l-later."

He waves as you turn and hurry into the school.

Jungkook can't stop the smirk from coming as he watches you disappear into the doors of the school. If you insist on talking to him and making him your friend, then he'll just have to go along with it. _______________

"Alright, m-my little ducklings! Time t-to pack up!" You clap your hands to get their attention. They all listen immediately, moving to get their bags put together and ready for home.

A few minutes later, the school bell rings, signaling the end of the day.

The kids squeal with happiness and you feel your own rush of excitement, remembering that you have a new friend to spend the rest of your day with. The kids get into line quickly and you give them each a punch in their reward cards as they file out the door.

The second you step out of the school, leading the line of little ducklings behind you, you glance across the street, but you don't see Jungkook sitting there.

You try not to think too much about it and focus on getting the kids into the correct lines for the busses.

You wave to Joon Woo as he climbs into his father's car. He and his dad wave to you and smile before driving away.

Then you look across the street again, but there still isn't any sign of Jungkook.

You bite your lip before turning and walking into the school.

Gathering your things, you think about all the things you and Jungkook might be able to do to pass the time. You're so consumed in your thoughts that you don't notice the knock on your door. The second time the person knocks, louder this time, you hear it.

"C-Come in!" You call out, sorting the last bits of the worksheets that the kids did today. The door opens and Mr. Baek from class A walks in.

You look up and smile at him, "Good afternoon, Mr. B-Baek. How can I h-help you?"

He glares down his long nose at you, "Did you give any thought to what I said last week?"

"Um..."

What did he say last week...?

Oh...

"Oh, uhm. Mr. Baek, I still d-don't understand."

"What do you not understand about it?" He snaps.

You flinch, then set down the stack of papers and stand up while grabbing your bag. "I th-thought maybe you'd had a b-bad day-"

Mr. Baek scoffs loudly, cutting you off.

"You aren't that dense, sweetheart."

The way he says that makes your stomach turn, "Ok, I'm s-sorry that you're upset. I h-have s-somewhere to be. If y-you'll excuse me."

You move around him and hurry out of the room before he can say anything else. You really aren't sure what's gotten into him, but you're going to avoid him until he's over it.

When you walk down the steps to the school, you look around, but Jungkook isn't anywhere to be seen. You try not to let it get to you, this has happened before.

The only person who has ever followed through on plans with you is Mina.

You blink a few times, then you start making your way home.

"Going home so soon?"

You turn to see Jungkook standing behind you.

A smile spreads on your face at the sight of him. "I thought y-you'd left." You say slowly.

He shakes his head and steps closer to you, " I always keep my promises."

You feel your chest lift at his words, finally someone that isn't going to leave you hanging. Then you readjust the bag on your shoulder, "W-What would you like t-to do?"

Jungkook frowns when he notices something off about you. He knows it's none of his business and he doesn't really care, but he's curious.

"Did something happen?" He asks, taking you by surprise, "You look kind of upset."

At that, you smile bigger, "N-Nothing happened! I'm f-fine."

"Ok." Jungkook doesn't buy it, but he doesn't push you any further. He doesn't care enough to.

"So, w-what did you w-want to do?" You ask again, relieved he doesn't continue to ask you what's wrong.

"You pick." Jungkook gives you a small smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

You decide to ignore that and clap your hands together, "W-Well, I'm hungry! How about we g-get some food?"

Jungkook nods, "Food sounds great, do you know any good places?"

You laugh and try to send him a wink, though it's the worst wink he's ever seen. "Oh boy, I know e-exactly what we c-can eat."

Jungkook gestures forward, "Lead the way."

The two of you talk about the weather as you stroll through the city, making your way to one of your favorite food carts. You don't have much to talk about besides that. You're trying to come up with some questions to ask him once you've got your food.

Once you arrive at the steamed bun cart, you break into a little run. Jungkook watches you skip over and jump in place once you're in line.

She acts like a kid.

He shakes his head but hurries over to you anyway.

You tell him all your favorite kinds and he suggests you get them because they sound good to him too. When you take your card out to pay, Jungkook beats you to it. He hands the man some cash before you can even blink.

"Oh, y-you don't have to do th-that."

"I know." He says simply, thanking the man once he hands him the bag of buns and his change.

You two walk to the park that he had followed you to the other day and find a spot on the green grass. You plop down and pat the spot next to you, indicating that he should sit as well. Jungkook sits down and hands you the bag.

"Th-Thank you for b-buying it." You whisper shyly.

Jungkook shrugs, "No problem. Which one should we try first?"

"Um, the pork ones a-are really g-good." You say, taking out the two pork buns. You hand one to him and he immediately takes a big bite, making you chuckle a little.

"Mm, you're right. It's delicious." Jungkook says around a mouthful of food.

You nod, glad that he likes it. Then you start to eat yours, thinking about which question you should ask him first.

"So, how long have you been a teacher?" Jungkook asks you suddenly.

You swallow the bite you were chewing, "I j-just started at the b-beginning of the school year in A-August. I graduated from c-college last year."

Jungkook nods knowingly, "That's good. So, you must be around twenty-two?"

You nod, "I am t-twenty-two, yes. How o-old are you?"

"I turned twenty-three in September," Jungkook says before taking another bite.

"Oh, n-nice. And what d-do you do f-for work?" You ask politely.

Jungkook swallows the bite that feels like it's stuck in his throat at your question. "I work for a small business. I just take care of client's needs and stuff."

You smile, "That's a g-good job."

He nods, finishing off his last bite.

"It pays the bills."

Why is he suddenly uncomfortable? There's something about you that makes him nervous, but he can't tell what it is.

No, this is on his terms. This is all part of the plan, he just needs to play along. He needs you to trust him.

Jungkook glances over at you as you stuff more food into your mouth.

This is gonna be easier than I thought.

______________________________

a/n: thank you so much for all the support so far! I hope y’all liked this one

388 notes · View notes

plan-d-to-i · 2 years

Note

What's your opinion on JYL and JFM? I've seen a few say they were just as bad to WWX for not doing much to defend him, especially against Madam Yu, or like when JYL apologized to the Jins on his behalf.

I think the novel doesn't mean them to be seen as bad people just weak. I think I'm more defensive of JFM because fandom is really hard on him, while he was stuck in a terrible situation himself with his wife. The only way you can come out on top w YZY is to never fucking interact w her. To never marry her in the first place ideally. And he tried!

He didn’t like Yu ZiYuan’s conduct and felt that the two wouldn’t be an appropriate match. He had politely refused the offer a handful of times. However, the MeishanYu Sect set about multiple factors, putting pressure on Jiang FengMian, who was at the time still fairly young and had nothing to lean on. Along with the fact that, not long later, ZangSe SanRen had become cultivation partners with the most loyal servant at Jiang FengMian’s side, Wei ChangZe, and rode off into the sunset, roaming around the world, Jiang FengMian finally gave up.

Meishan Yu literally schemed behind the scenes to force JFM to marry this bitch so rip JFM you really pulled the short straw in life. Once he married she's not the type of person he can tell what to do.

Madam Yu, “What am I doing here? What a joke that I am asked of such a thing! Sect Leader Jiang, do you still remember that I’m also the leader of Lotus Pier? Do you still remember that every inch of the earth here is my territory? (Chapter 56)

Much like how JGS can't stop Madam Jin from beating the shit out of JGY... JFM tries to end WWX's punishments early, but he's doesn't seem capable of banning YZY from punishing him entirely. Although JFM is kind to WWX I don't see any favoritism. Correcting jc's behavior when it's wrong is not in fact showing favoritism towards WWX. & ultimately as WWX concludes later on regarding the Wen sibs:

Just as Wen Qing said, if Wen Chao truly wanted to kill anyone, it was unlikely for Wen Qing to be able to stop him. Perhaps she’d be affected as well. After all, children of others could never compare to children of one’s own.” (Chapter 60)

No matter how much he likes WWX, WWX is not his own son. JFM's last interaction with WWX is to ask him to care for jc.

As for YanLi I wrote about her more at length here. I think a lot of ppl in this fandom project really hard on her, so they get very defensive over what is a kindly but mediocre person who benefits from a heaping helping of privilege and WWX's rosy view. To be clear I don't think you're supposed to hate her in the novel. I think she's forgettable. The person who didn't quite catch WWX when he jumped from the tree. The mother of Jin Ling and the person who consistently showed WWX some crumbs of warmth in the Jiang household.

It's this fandom that made her into a soup goddess of goodness lmao. Personally I think it's absurd when they act like YanLi's not responsible for her own ignorance or choices. Like someone locked her in the attic and she didn't know what money or war refugees were. They try to blame the society she was raised in for why her ass only knew how to make soup and it's like... Her mother is YZY. Can't stand YZY but there's no way in hell she wanted her daughter making soup and not training or educating herself. Or that JFM was tyrannical and wouldn't let her do what she wanted. All this to say it's YanLi's own flipping choice to stay not knowing. So she'll always fall short in my eyes, compared to Wen Qing or Mianmian. And again people act like she was so helpless and no one would let her speak, yet:

“Jin ZiXun’s face was dark, but he didn’t respond. There were two reasons. First, he had never seen Jiang YanLi step up and talk before, so he didn’t know how strong his reply should be. Both Madam Jin and Jiang Cheng held Jiang YanLi in high regard, and he didn’t dare rashly go against them." (Chapter 73)

“The people who gathered around Jin ZiXun had on the same dark faces as he did. Yet, taking into consideration Jiang YanLi’s background, they didn’t dare talk back to her directly.” (Chapter 73)

“If the one currently saying these words wasn’t Jiang YanLi and instead some random person, Jin ZiXun would probably have come at them with a slap already. His face was almost black, but he kept his mouth shut.” (Chapter 73)

Ahhhh... look at all that privilege. No one reprimands YanLi for speaking up. Sharp fucking contrast to Mianmian. YanLi just doesn't want to speak up. She wants her wedding to go off without a hitch. She wants WWX to exclaim over her pretty dress and play nice with jiang cheng and probably stop w his foolishness w the Wen Remnants. Ig she thinks the mental image of her in her wedding dress will be much more filling than meals or funds. Ironically when jc, WWX & the other disciples were headed to the Wen indoctrination camp she loaded them w snacks, so maybe she gets how supplies work. She just didn't think WWX would need any when he was possibly starving on the corpse filled mountain.

Jiang YanLi saw them off, staying with them road after road. She filled everyone’s arms with all sorts of snacks, afraid that they’d starve at the QishanWen Sect. Clothes brimming with food, the twenty boys set off from Lotus Pier. (Chapter 51).

guess she's not sheltered enough to not understand how starving works... interesting. Luckily it's not my eyes she's being judged through and WWX certainly remembers her fondly. However he's not wracked with guilt about her death as fandom often portrays him- and rightly so bc it was her own harebrained ass that stumbled on a battlefield unarmed, and untrained and asked the guy everyone was attacking to stop fighting.

#mdzs #answers #Jiang YanLi

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 16

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Peter takes the ride into town as an opportunity to be extra annoying, but you also finally find out just how he got into space. The prank war continues. Will you finally declare Peter "The Prank Master," or has he finally met his match?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: This is a long one! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 29 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,661

Peter's face was still red by the time you finished pulling your boots on. He had just come out of the bathroom and stood near you as you got up from the bench. He had a strange look about his face and when you went to ask, "What?" he grabbed your wrist with a wet hand and said, "Don't ya hate when you pee on your hands?"

This, of course, was revenge for you embarrassing him just a few minutes prior.

Your expression turned murderous and you ripped your arm away. Was he serious? How dare he! What the hell was wrong with him!? Just as you were angrily saying, "I'm going to fucking kill you!" and absolutely looking like you'd actually follow through, Peter held up his hands and said through laughter, "It's a joke! It's just a joke! It's just water! I promise!"

You backed down slightly, anger still burning in your eyes. "You know I don't have to take you, right? Fury said I could take anyone who passes for human." Just then Kraglin walked by and you gestured to him. "I could just take him instead if you want to start out being a little shit."

Kraglin grinned at the two of you and, clearly seeing that Peter had managed to push your buttons already, said, "Nah. I can catch the next one," and continued on his way up the stairs.

You huffed in his direction before turning to Peter in frustration. "Just get in the car. And don't piss me off."

Peter gave a little mock-salute and followed you out.

You could have killed him on the ride into town. The annoyance was constant.

He started by turning up the radio and singly badly along with the songs, made worse due to the fact that most of which he didn't know the words to. Eventually you couldn't take it anymore and you shut the radio off.

He tried to turn it back on a bit later and you smacked his hand away, only able to do so now that your braced arm wasn't in a sling and you could now grip the wheel with both hands.

He then started asking, "Are we there yet?" about every minute. He knew you weren't close.

This was coupled with the classic, "I'm not touching you!" game. You almost didn't notice for the first five minutes, intent on ignoring him and keeping your eyes on the road. When you finally did notice and tell him to knock it off, well, you know what he responded with.

You were fuming when you finally pulled into the post office. You threw the car into park and angrily ordered him to sit quietly and promptly left him.

He was actually starting to wonder if maybe he should cool it for a bit. You did look pretty mad... probably still weren't over the whole fake pee on hands prank. Maybe he shouldn't go through with what he was considering next?

When you finished your business in the mail office and returned to the car you were actually surprised to find that he had behaved. You don't know what you had actually expected him to do- maybe get out and crouch beside the car to make you think he'd run off?- but no. He was still sitting right where you left him.

You get back behind the wheel and toss your mail on the dash, prepared to head to the grocery shop. Peter doesn't say anything.

The short ride over you were a little leery of just how quiet he was being. He was too quiet. When you pulled in park at the grocery lot you turned to give him a suspicious look.

"What?" he asked innocently, returning your gaze.

"You. What are you up to?"

"What ever do you mean?" He wore a face of innocence, but you knew better.

"The whole ride into town you didn't let up with all your annoying shit, now on the ride from the post office to here you act like a perfect angel. I don't trust it."

"Thought you could use a break is all, you seemed really cranky." A grin was starting to crack Peter's innocent façade. "You know... I think I know what might cheer you up..."

Your eyes narrowed. "Peter-" Whatever he intended, judging by his tone you knew it couldn't be good.

Before you could say more his hand darted out to connect with that spot above your knee, which of course made you spasm in your seat and cackle loudly. Whatever you had been expecting, for some reason you foolishly didn't consider that. You really should have though, considering how often you would now get teased with little pokes and squeezes. Unfortunately for you, a good portion of your guests were apparently an affectionate bunch... Or maybe they just liked to annoy you. You weren't sure which.

You smacked and pushed at his hand but he didn't let up. "Peter! Peter stop that this instant!" you scolded through your laughter.

"Come on, cheer up sour-puss!" he teased in a high voice, still squeezing rapidly into the muscle. "Being stuck with me isn't that bad."

"You little shit!" you cried, smacking at him again, your eyes closed tightly as you laughed and kicked to the best of your ability, trying your best not to accidentally lash out and hit the horn. You were effectively trapped by having a car as your surroundings. So unfair. "Stop it! Cut it out!"

Peter finally stopped and grinned at you as you caught your breath, chuckling when you punched him in the shoulder.

"You're such a brat!" you said, residual giggles still slipping out. However, you didn't seem quite as angry as you had been, so Peter counted it as a win. Maybe now you wouldn't be quite as cranky with him when you discovered the prank he had pulled on you. Honestly he was surprised you hadn't noticed before you sat down...

After a moment you spoke again. "Come on, let's get this over- aw shit."

"What?" Peter asked, confused by your sudden change of tone.

"You didn't bring those sunglasses with you this time, did you?"

"Oh..." Peter's eyes widened in realization. Not wanting to have to wait out in the car he thought to reason. "I think it'll be ok. I mean, It's been what- like 26 years since I went missing? And I wasn't even from this area of Earth so I really doubt anyone would recognize me-"

Your eyes widen as big as saucers. "Excuse me?"

"What?"

"Went missing??" Had you seriously heard him right? Did Fury know?Who were you kidding? Of course Fury knew. Fury knew everything.

"Oh... so you didn't know about that... Ha- well it's fine! Honest! I was just trying to let you know it'll be fine if I don't wear some lame disguise like sunglasses-"

"That's not why I had insisted on the sunglasses! It was for any possible undercover aliens looking for you! I didn't know you'd be on the missing persons bulletin!"

Peter could see you were stressed. That wasn't good in his opinion. You'd be no fun to pick on if you were worried, so he tried to smooth it over. After all, it really was fine. "Look, everything's fine. Ok? I was on that list for missing people, Fury told me that shortly after we arrived, but we talked about it and he made sure I was wiped from it just in case."

You relaxed a little, sitting back in your seat. You turn to look at him again. "Twenty-six years... that means you were, what? Ten?"

"Eight," he corrected.

"That's not better." you reply, and then a realization hit you. "Wait- is that how you got into space? Were you literally abducted by aliens?" Yes, you might have been aware of aliens due to your employment by SHIELD, but from the little you had seen of and about them you had come to assume that the whole "alien abduction" thing was a myth crazy people talked about. They just barely came here, let alone had use for random Earth people.

"Like I said, it's a long story." Peter answered, "We should probably get going." he cracked his door open and gestured with his head towards the store.

Remembering yourself, you give a half nod and exit your vehicle so you could complete the shop visit.

As the two of you walked towards the shop you speak up. "Is it alright if I ask what happened? You don't have to answer if it's a bad memory or anything. I'm just curious about... you know..."

"What?"

"Like, you must have had a family? Now that you're here, why haven't you tried to find them?"

Peter looked like he was searching for the right words. "It's kinda complicated."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, it's fine." he said as the two of you entered the shop.

You grabbed a trolley and looked at him to see if he would continue, but hoping that he wouldn't feel you were pressuring him.

After a moment he did continue. "My mom died right before it happened. Literally minutes before." Seeing the look on your face and realizing what you might be assuming he clarified. "It was cancer. She'd been sick a long time."

"I'm so sorry." You say, leading him towards the haircare section of the store to start knocking things off your list.

He shook his head, trying to vanish the memory of her lying in that hospital bed. "Yeah... me too." He sighed and went on to say how when it happened he was upset, and angry. She was gone just like that and he didn't know what to do. So he just ran. He ran outside the hospital and then just collapsed on the lawn. Next thing he knew there was the bright light of a spaceship right above him, and it took him.

"It just randomly came by took you? For no reason?" You ask, approaching the hair wash section and deciding on a conditioner that you thought Gamora might like the scent of. You turned to Peter for his opinion and he pointed out a lavender scented one before answering about the motives of his abductors.

"No, they had a reason" he said, "Turned out my father was this celestial being and sent them to fetch me. But of course I didn't know that at the time. Like I said, mom had cancer. In her brain. So when she said my dad was this 'angel' composed of 'pure light', of course no one believed her. They just thought it was the tumor."

"Oh. Wow." You didn't know what to say to that as the two of you were now walking over to the moisturizers. Eventually you settled on, "So you've been with your dad then?" Just as you finished that sentence something clicked in your brain, but you thought for sure it couldn't be right, could it? "Wait, do you mean Yondu? He's your father?"

Peter laughed. "Are you serious? Drax thought the same thing. "

You frowned slightly, picking out a decent smelling lotion and dropping it into the basket. "Well, I have heard him refer to you as "my boy" at least a couple times, and you just said your dad was alien. I think you could see why I might now make that connection there."

Peter smiled softly, seeming lost in thought. "Yeah, yeah I guess. But not exactly. You see, Yondu was the guy my father hired to fetch me. He was supposed to take me to him, but he didn't. He kept me."

You gave Peter a confused look as you led the way towards the razors. You knew from Peter's last story that Yondu had been the captain of a faction of space-pirates called Ravagers before joining the Guardians, but this bit was news to you. Apparently Peter was with the Ravagers before the Guardians of the Galaxy, but why had Yondu kept him? Why not just give him to his father?

Peter continues. "I know what you're thinking, but like I said, it's complicated. He kept me to protect me. 'Course, for the longest time he never told me that. Always said he kept me 'cause I was skinny and good for thieving."

"Protect you from... your father?" You asked. How bad must his father have been for a space pirate captain to decide the kid was better off joining the crew? You raised an eyebrow at him as you grabbed some decent disposable razors off the shelf. Upon second thought, you grabbed some refill-heads as well.

"Yeah. Remember how I told you about that time we saved the galaxy from Ronan, and I was able to touch the Infinity stone without immediately dying?"

"Yeah?" You now led the way towards the DIY section. You knew it was unlikely, but hopped that maybe the shop carried some filler so you might finally repair that chip in the wall above the back door from where Yondu killed that spider for you. You would have already fixed it by now, but the tub of filler you did have was long dried up. Kraglin asked about it the other day, stating he didn't remember that being there when they arrived, and you passed it off as the house being old, unwilling to admit what had actually happened.

"Well, word spread about that pretty fast because I shouldn't have been able to do that." Peter continued, following beside you. "My father caught word of a man who was able to hold an infinity stone and live, and knew it had to be me, so he tracked me down."

"And that was... bad?" You asked, turning into your desired aisle.

"Not at first. At first it was cool. He took us back to his planet- that's where we met Mantis- and this next part is really gonna blow your mind, the whole planet was him."

"What? How does that even work?"

"Honestly, I don't even fully get it, but like I said, he was a celestial. He just was the planet. The guy who we met was just like this... avatar version he made of himself to travel and stuff. He had like these magic powers, and he taught me how to use them... kinda."

"Wait, so you have special powers?" you ask, "I had no idea." You were so surprised by these revelations that you almost missed the small tubs of repair filler the shop did carry, but recovered and placed one in the basket.

Peter rubbed the back of his head. "Well, not exactly. Not anymore. You see, they came from his celestial genes- it's the only reason I was able to hold onto that infinity stone and live- but anyway, I don't have them anymore. I um, I kinda had to... kill him. And when he died so did the light, so I'm just a regular Terran now."

"What?!" you gave him a very confused look. "Did you just say you killed your own dad?" You tried to keep your voice low. You had been lucky to avoid too many other shoppers during this conversation, but just then a couple of boys walked by. You eyed them, but they were lost in their own conversation and didn't seem to have heard or cared about what you had said. You continued towards the cleaning supplies, remembering you were dangerously low on various cleaners for the bathrooms.

"Again, complicated," Peter replied. "He turned out to be not such a good dude. Long story short, He had this plan to expand and make the entire universe him, like he would literally be the only thing left, but he needed another celestial to help him- that's where I came in. Apparently he had a butt-load of other kids, but I was the only one that actually inherited the celestial gene. Well, obviously I had doubts about his whole plan. I mean, all my friends would be gone, for one." He chuckled. "But he was... quite convincing. I don't even think I could describe the things he showed me..." He trailed off, and then seemed to remember himself a moment later. "Anyway, eventually he told me he was the one who put the tumor in my mom's head and that finally snapped me out of it."

You were taken aback. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. That's awful!"

He shrugged. "Nah. Don't be. That guy was a jackass. I mean, who names themself "Ego" anyways?"

"Probably the type of person who wants to literally be the center of the universe," you quipped.

Peter chuckled and nudged you in the shoulder, apparently appreciative of the joke. "Yeah. I suppose it probably was fitting for him..." he stared off for a moment. "Anyway, it's funny that you thought that Yondu was my father, because all that happening made me realize that Yondu had actually kinda been my dad all along."

You give him a quizzical look as the two of you reach the aisle you were looking for, and he just grins knowingly in return. "Complicated?" you say, sure that that would be his answer.

"Yes and no." Peter answered, and then just let the silence linger.

After a bit you asked him. "You said Ego had other children? Do you know what ever happened to them?"

Peter frowned. "He killed them. They didn't have what he needed, so he just killed them. There was a whole cavern on the planet filled with their bones."

You only managed a soft, "Oh." You felt your stomach twist. What kind of bastard would kill their own- You shook that thought away, telling yourself to compose yourself. Not now.

"Yeah. I know. Pretty dark." Peter said, his tone obvious he was trying his best to keep it light. He didn't say anything, but he saw something in you change a little when he revealed Ego just murdered his own kids like it was nothing, and he remembered a previous conversation he had with you about that job you had in Romania and part of him wished he had lied just then. He tried to steer the conversation in a happier direction for both of your sakes. He didn't like to think about it either. "Apparently at some point Yondu had found out what Ego had been doing with all those kids he had him fetch, and that's why he kept me. I think I turned out alright, all things considered." He nudged you and gave you a wide cheeky grin.

You couldn't help but grin as you responded, "I dunno... depends if any of that contributed to how annoying you are." You located the toilet cleaners and plunked a couple bottles in the trolley.

"Hey!" Peter mock-pouted, but he was glad that the mood had been lifted again.

The two of you walked in silence towards the tub cleaners when Peter suddenly says, "Oh hey, you dropped something."

You stop and look around for whatever might have fallen out of the trolley, asking him what you had dropped.

Peter grinned and said, "Your speed."

You roll your eyes at him. You weren't sure if you were more annoyed at the lameness of the joke, or the fact that you fell for it. "Really? You're gonna start that again?"

"Yup." Peter grinned.

You just shook your head and continued down the aisle to grab some disinfectant wipes, but little did he know you had a trick up your sleeve.

The wipes were just before the air fresheners and after you grabbed the wipes and were walking past you picked up a refill at random and said, "Oh hey, you should smell this."

"Nice try, I'm not falling for that." Peter said.

"Falling for what?" you ask innocently.

"I bet it smells like crap, you're just trying to get me back for the other day."

You roll your eyes dramatically. "It says on the package it's 'Blossom and Breeze.' Here," you smell it yourself to prove to him it wasn't nasty. "See? You're so paranoid. They wouldn't sell these if they smelled bad." You offer the item back to him with an unimpressed look.

Seeming mostly convinced he hesitantly takes the item from you and slowly brings it up to sniff it. Then he looks confused. "I don't smell anything?"

You knew he wouldn't, it was encased in plastic, but that wasn't the prank. "Oh, you might need to breathe deeper, they put the scent in the cardboard bit so people can test it before they buy it, it can be a little faint." This was a blatant lie. Sure, this could have made a decent prank on it's own, but it still wasn't the prank you were going for. It was more of a distraction until that group of pretty young women you clocked entering the aisle earlier when grabbing the wipes had made their way close enough, which they would in 3... 2... 1...

You snatched the item away from a now very confused Peter.

"These don't go in your mouth! How many times do I gotta tell you!?" you ask, acting exasperated.

Peter opened his mouth but seemed at a loss for words. Then he noticed the handful of pretty women walking by who were now staring at him and giggling to each other behind their hands as you said, "They're not gonna taste like how they smell, we've been over this!"

His cheeks started to redden and he turned his attention from the departing group of young ladies to you, his expression switching from wide-eyed and embarrassed to unamused, having now understood what you did.

You were giggling now and he narrowed his eyes at you. "Not cool, dude!"

You tossed the item back on the shelf and, still giggling, said, "But it sure was funny."

Peter just grumbled and followed you to the grocery section.

You spotted some brownie mix and asked him if he thought his friends might like to try brownies.

"Probably. And if they don't like them, more for us." He punctuated the sentence by taking the box from your hand and plopping it in the trolley, making you shake your head and giggle at him.

You then grabbed the couple snacks that had been requested as well as a few things you'd enjoy, including some ice-cream since you found the guys had eaten all of it when you returned from your last trip into town.

Just as you were dropping the ice cream in the trolley Peter decided that would be time for his revenge. There were several people about doing their shopping in that particular aisle when he suddenly said out loud, "Hey, is that rash still contagious?"

You looked at him, mortified, and you noticed the people start to quietly but quickly clear out of the aisle. You give him a glare, but just sigh and say, "Well played."

"I thought so." Peter replied, looking proud of himself.

"Still not 'The Master.'"

"We'll see," he chuckled.

You finished up the trip, and headed home. Gratefully, Peter wasn't nearly as annoying on the return trip.

You supposed the whole trip could have gone worse. It really was too bad you didn't get a chance to go alone though. You might have been able to grab some glitter for... nefarious purposes. Though, you supposed you could always order it online. Oh well, at least you managed to pick up some jelly. He wouldn't be suspicious of jelly... until you used it against him, that is.

***

It wouldn't be until you had been home for a little bit that you would discover what prank Peter had pulled on you in the car. Or rather, Kraglin discovered it.

You were getting a glass of water when Kraglin cleared his throat and awkwardly asked you why there was blue tape on your bottom.

You raised and eyebrow and reached back while Rocket snickered and teased Kraglin, asking him why he had been looking at your ass.

Kraglin began to stutter. "I-I wasn't! It's just- The tape is bright blue! Her pants are black! How was I not supposed to see it!?" He was blushing now and decided to just leave the room. Why did the rat have to be such a dick?

You peeled the strip of blue tape off your butt and looked at it with a half frown before looking up at Peter who was standing with Rocket and grinning. "You have anything to do with this?" you ask accusingly. Who were you kidding? It's not like you just happened to sit on blue tape. Of course he had something to do with it, but how?

Peter grinned wider then pulled the rest of the roll out of one of his pockets. "I put a piece of this sticky side up in your car seat before you got out of the Post Office." He then tossed the roll to you. "Found it in one of those drawers," he said, pointing to the drawers behind you.

"I see you fancy yourself the Artful Dodger," you say in annoyance to his confession that he had knicked the tape with the sole purpose of annoying you. You also realized this meant you had walked around the whole shop with blue tape on your bottom. Well, you supposed there were worse things... like what you were sure to do with that blue dye tonight.

"I have no idea what that means." Peter replied.

You roll your eyes at him, but not altogether surprised he didn't get the reference. "Nevermind." you say, tossing the tape back in the drawer. "Childish..."

Peter just chuckled and left the kitchen.

***

If you hadn't been set on using that food dye to prank Peter the past few days, you definitely were now.

Sometime after discovering the blue tape, you went upstairs and thought you might put one of your sticky notes to use. You stuck with the classic, 'kick me', sign, and thought it'd be a good idea to sneak up behind and jump-scare him and use that as a diversion to stick it to his back. It worked as expected.

It took him less than half an hour to find it. Or rather, Mantis found it, and asked him why he had a sign telling people to kick him on his back. She plucked the sign from his shirt and he turned to see what she was talking about. Taking the sticky note from her, he frowned in annoyance for becoming victim to one of the oldest tricks in the book, and then shouted your name.

You, of course, didn't answer. Just smiled behind your book in your room, of course not realizing that your prank had technically failed.

In revenge, Peter decided to bring up a video on YouTube he came across the previous day titled, "Broken TV screen 1 hour" and set it to play on full screen. Then he went to fetch you.

***

You were in the kitchen when Rocket startled you by jumping up to climb up your back without warning. He had managed to climb all the way up to your head when you let out a startled yelp and asked, "What are you doing??" as you jerked from the unexpected sensation of being climbed on.

"Hold still, will ya? Just needed a boost up to reach up to this cabinet, don't get your panties in a bunch," he said with half a chuckle, balancing himself on your head as he opened the cupboard.

"You never needed one before now!" you said, irritated. That was the cupboard you kept the glasses in, and you'd seen him get up there just fine plenty of times without needing a human ladder.

"Eh. You were there," he said, amusement in his voice. It was seemingly clear he had only done this to annoy you.

"Will you hurry up and get down!" you said, trying to keep the giggles out of your voice as his tail was flitting over your ear.

"What, ya got somewhere to be?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes! Anywhere without a rac- a furry little beast sitting on my head!" you replied through gritted teeth. You were still trying- and mostly failing- to hide your giggles. Yes, maybe you could have told him to cut it out with the tail twitching, but you didn't want to admit that it tickled. Last thing you needed was to reveal a weakness for the raccoon to exploit.

Rocket heard how you almost called him a raccoon, but let it slide because you stopped yourself. Mostly. He'd allow you to live, however, he stayed up there a couple moments more, pretending to take his time deciding on a cup and grinning as he continued flitting his tail over your ear. He knew exactly what he was doing. The little shit.

He finally grabbed a cup and closed the cupboard, teasingly scolding, "Hey, hold still!" when his tail "accidentally" brushed your neck on the way down and you jerked your head to the side from the sensation, and then twitched when he hit a particularly sensitive area of your shoulder blade on his descent. That one actually had been an accident, but he still logged it away for later. Knowing Peter's tickle spots had proved useful as a payback method, he was sure yours would too if needed.

Rocket had just touched down on the floor when Peter sheepishly came in to tell you to come into the sitting room because he needed to show you something. Having a feeling it wasn't going to be good, you sighed and followed him, leaving the raccoon behind.

He was dismayed, however, when your only response to seeing the "broken" TV was to just sigh and say flatly, "Well, I hope you enjoy reading then. Like I told you before, I'm not replacing it."

He blinked. "Wait- you're not mad??" This was not the reaction he expected. He was sure you'd yell at him. You yelled at Rocket when he spilled tomato sauce all over the kitchen, surely you would have had a similar reaction now?

You just stare at him. "While I'm frustrated that you can't respect other people's property enough not to break it, I barely use it anymore since I'm always- well, I was almost always gone for work. Soon as you guys leave it'll be the same. No sense in rewarding bad behavior by getting another for you guys to use when I doubt I'll be using it much once you leave."

Peter rolled his eyes and picked up the controller. "Ugh, you're no fun!" he complained, turning off the video and revealing the TV wasn't actually broken.

"Wait, so that was a prank?" You say in realization.

"Well, yeah!" Peter said in frustration. "It was supposed to be!" Honestly, he was hoping you world have been mad. It would have been funny to reveal the lack after you lost it. But no, of course you would have just hit him with some version of "I'm not mad, just disappointed."

"You know, for someone who keeps claiming to be 'the prank master,' your pranks are kinda lame." You grinned at him. Sure, maybe not all his pranks were lame- the broken screen on might have been a good one had he done it to anyone else, but you'd still say they were to annoy him.

"Oh yeah?" Peter said with a mischievous grin before lunging forward to aim a squeeze-y tickle attack on your sides, making you let out a squeak as you jumped back and smacked him out of reflex.

Giggling, you scold him for being a child and turn to head out of the room, only to bump into Kraglin who just said, "Hi there," before tweaking your ribs.

You laugh and push him away, telling them that they played too much before heading upstairs.

The two men watch you leave and then share a grin. Little did you know, the TV had only been Peter's diversion prank. Not the one that finally made you fully resolve to use the food dye on him.

***

To get him back for both the TV prank and the tickle attack you decided to take a thumbtack from your desk and use it to poke a hole in a can of fizzy drink that you knew only you and he really ever drank. You placed the hole near the top so that when he took a drink it would dribble down onto his shirt and then positioned the can in the fridge towards the front so that he'd grab that one first. It was a clear drink, so you were sure it wouldn't stain. You weren't a complete asshole.

This consideration could be considered ironic, considering what you'd do to him that night.

You grinned from your room when you heard him loudly cursing your name sometime later.

To get you back for that he made use of a few pieces of macaroni pasta he found in the pantry. He went upstairs and placed them under the toilet rim so that when you sat down the sound of them crunching would startle you. It wasn't a foolproof plan, but he knew you were reading upstairs, and most everyone else was downstairs, so he rolled the dice that you'd be the next person to use that toilet.

Awhile later he heard you shout his name in frustration from upstairs and he chuckled in victory. And no, this still wasn't the prank that sealed his fate, although that one was currently in progress...

Sometime later you were in your room on your laptop doing some research and contemplating what a suitable prank might be to get Peter back for the macaroni thing when Mantis came into the room to retrieve something. You switch away from the tab you were in researching tunnel maintenance to one you had open of tumblr and offer her a short greeting.

She returned the greeting and went about her business behind you for a couple minutes.

Then, out of the blue, you felt her fingers skitter up your side. You nearly jump out of your skin from both the startle and the ticklish sensation and a startled laugh escaped your throat as you jerked away in your seat and squeaked out a giggly, "Mantis! What are you doing?!"

She stopped tickling and just giggled in response before jogging out of the room.

You stared after her before returning to your work with a shake of your head. 'Awfully playful bunch tonight,' you thought.

***

A bit later you decided to go out back for some fresh air. When you do, you notice Yondu already out there, leant against the stone of the house and just looking at the clouds pass by.

Not wanting to disturb him you just nod in his direction and say, "Hey," before walking by towards the garden. He returns your greeting and leaves you to it. Or so it seemed.

You reach the garden and stand there in the peace and quiet, glancing over the plants for any sign of insect damage. It's not too long, however, before Yondu walks up behind you and shouts, "Boo!"

You jump right out of your skin and turn to face him. You frown, but before you can ask him what the hell that was for, he starts to tickle your stomach. You laugh out a protest, but he only switches to tickling your ribs instead. You laugh some more and latch onto his wrists to push him away and he relents. Residual giggles still coating your words you scold him. "Jeeze! What was that for?!"

Yondu just grins at you like he was privy to some joke you weren't in on, shrugs, and turns to head back inside without explanation.

You watched him go, beginning to wonder what had gotten into everyone.

***

Turned out it would be Drax who would spill the beans on Peter's prank.

You were minding your own business, washing the dish you had just used for your supper, when you are rudely interrupted by Drax spidering his fingers over your ribs, causing you to laugh out loud and drop the dish in the sink. Luckily it didn't break, but you quickly turn off the tap and spun around to scold him and ask what the big deal was.

You knew something was up now. Rocket might have done it on accident. Peter and Kraglin- well, they just routinely did stuff like that to mess with you. Yondu could also fall in the category of "just did it to mess with you." Mantis- she was playful and it wasn't out of the realm of normal for her to randomly decide to do that just to make you laugh.

Drax, however, though friendly, hadn't shown himself to be the type to just randomly up and decide to tickle someone, namely you, without reason, or ever.

And all of them deciding to do it in one afternoon? No. Something was up.

Drax looked almost confused by your annoyance. "Well the note-"

Your eyes narrowed. "What note?"

"The one on your back."

You quickly reach behind you and feel a piece of paper. Peter. You rip it off and look at it, but find you can't read it. It was written in some alien text. "What's this?" you ask Drax.

"It's the note you taped on your back?" He answers, confused.

"I didn't put this there! I can't even read this! What does it say?" You hand it out towards him, but he doesn't take it.

Instead a look of realization comes over his face and he says. "Oh! This must be one of Peter's practical jokes! Haha! That's a good one. No wonder you looked so surprised!"

"Drax-" you say, your tone frustrated.

"What's going on here?" Gamora asked, having just moments prior walked in on the scene. She walked up to the two of you, concerned she might need to stop a fight before it began. You'd never be able to take on Drax, but she could almost see you trying if he made you angry enough.

You thought that maybe she'd be more help. "Could you tell me what this says? Apparently Peter taped it to my back."

Gamora took the paper and read it. Then she rolled her eyes and huffed a short laugh. "This note reads, 'tickle me.'" It was indeed written in Peter's handwriting, but of all the things he could have written, at least this was innocent enough.

You look up to the ceiling, unamused. You meet her gaze again and say, "Thank you, though respectfully, your boyfriend is a brat."

Gamora smiled. "I'm aware."

You then start towards the frontmost doorway of the kitchen, dish forgotten in the sink, and yell, "PETER! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

This was then followed by the sound of Peter laughing, the sound of running footsteps, and then the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.

You stop in your pursuit. "Coward." you mutter.

You knew you might be able to catch him, but decided there was better things you could do with your time. Like refine your plan of counter-attack. You change course and head upstairs to lie in wait.

Unfortunately for Peter, his running away ended up giving you the perfect opportunity to strike.

***

Peter spent his time outside walking about the property and listening to his Zune, which he luckily had in his pocket when he fled from the house. He was almost surprised you didn't try to track him down, but he brushed it off, satisfied with his prank and how well it had apparently worked/ how long it took you to realize what he'd done.

He knew it was bold to try and get you back with basically the same prank you had just attempted to pull on him, and so that's why he paid Rocket to pretend like he was climbing on you to reach something so he could be the one to plant it on you. You would have absolutely suspected Peter if he came patting a sign on your back right after you had just pulled that prank on him. The other pranks he pulled were mostly just to cover his tracks. And because it was too fun not to pull them.

It was getting dark by the time he came back in and was late enough that everyone else had apparently already gone to bed as no one was downstairs. He was getting pretty tired himself and almost considered skipping showering that night, but decided against it. Big mistake for him.

Once he got upstairs and gathered his things to go shower he headed for the bathroom. Upon getting closer to the door you emerged from the room and seemed to jump back, startled to see him.

Peter snickered. "Did I scare you?"

You roll your eyes and turn towards your room. "No," you answer.

"Uh huh, sure." He grinned smugly.

"Oh, just go wash your stinky ass, already." you call back as you walk towards your room.

Peter gasped in mock-offense. "I'll let you know my 'stinky ass' smells like a pretty flower!" he joked.

You turn back at your doorway and retort with, "A corpse flower, maybe."

Peter scrunches up his face. "That's not a thing. You just made that up!"

"No, it's totally a thing. Look it up," you respond, laughing. You shut your door before he can respond further.

He shakes his head and enters the bathroom, muttering, "That's so not a thing."

***

You stayed up to hear the aftermath, and it didn't take too long.

Maybe ten minutes later you hear Peter curse your name, followed by, "What did you do?!"

You couldn't help yourself. You stand up to go peak out your door, biting your lip to hold back giggles. When you look out you see that Peter is now standing outside the bathroom, and that his outburst had also prompted the others to look out their doors as well. Kraglin was the first to start laughing.

The prank went better than you might have hoped. Peter only had a towel around his waist, allowing you to see that he was stained in an uneven coat of blue. Most of it was around his head, chest, and shoulders. It seemed to get lighter the further down his body it went, but it was more than enough to satisfy you. You hadn't been fully certain it would work.

When Peter didn't come back until after most everyone had gone to bed, you realized you had the perfect opportunity to carry out the prank. You did still have to wait until everyone else had finished showering though. You didn't want anyone get caught in the crossfire.

You waited for the second you heard him come back inside, just in case, and then you made your way into the bathroom with the vial of food gel. You unscrewed the shower head from its hose, squirted the whole vial in the head portion, then carefully screwed it back on. You were sure he'd take his shower before bed like always and felt safe to boobie-trap the shower head now since everyone else had already washed up for bed.

You did see his bottle of shower gel in the bath as you set up the prank and realized in hindsight that you could have just put the food dye in there instead so you wouldn't have needed to time everything so perfectly. On the other hand, you also didn't quite want to ruin his whole bottle of soap, so it was probably best you went for the shower head method instead.

Either way, it didn't disappoint.

You bit back laughter as you said, "Feeling a little... blue, there, Peter?"

He shot a look at you and responded with, "You massive turd! What did you do?!"

You feel Mantis come to look over your shoulder and she starts giggling at the sight of Peter. "Did you play a practical joke?" Mantis asks you. "That's so funny!"

Peter looks like he's about to storm over to you when Drax can be heard saying, "See! I knew Yondu was his father! Quill's finally starting to grow into his color!"

You couldn't tell if Drax was joking or not, but his comment started off a new round of giggles from Mantis, Kraglin, Rocket, and little Groot.

Peter just glared at him.

Yondu was standing next to Kraglin in the doorway of their room looking both contemplative and sleepy.

"Hey, Quill," Yondu said, getting Peter's attention. "Remember how ya rigged those dye packs up in my dresser drawers as a boy? Looks like ya finally got someone to give ya a taste of your own medicine." With that he made a sleepy retreat back to bed. His comment earned a laugh from Gamora, which made Peter pout.

A slight blush over Peter's cheeks appeared violet through the blue dye. He looked at you again and said, "You're so gonna get it!"

This of course prompted you to quickly usher Mantis back so you could shut the door and flick the lock, laughing as you did so.

It was totally worth it.

#gotg #gotg fanfic #gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #starlord #pranks #rocket raccoon #mantis #kraglin obfonteri #drax the destroyer

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biaswreckingfics · 3 years

Text

To Be Replaced: Part 2

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 3.4k

Previous Chapter

For the next few days, every time you see Baekhyun, his face is buried in his phone. He spent the majority of his free time working on his line, setting up meetings with investors, and doing everything he could to make sure his and Maya’s designs were perfect. You were proud of him but also worried about his health. His lack of sleep and self-care concerned you, so you were relieved when you finally got him to agree to having a relaxing day together.

You thought the two of you would spend the day being lazy around the house, binge some shows, and either cook or order takeout. You figured it would be a good way for the two of you to relax together... Of course, you didn’t expect Baekhyun to completely ignore his phone during the day either. He had calls and emails to answer, and you expected that… What you didn’t expect was for him to have his face buried in his phone the entire day.

Finally, you sigh and pause the show he had wanted to watch and ask who he’s texting. You give him a little bit to respond, and when he doesn’t, you turn your body towards him and watch him type away on his phone. You ask a second time, and it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. You weren’t even sure he knew you were in the same room as him at this point.

You turn your head and glance around the room, trying to decide if it was worth it to keep asking or if you should just let it go. Debating, you knew it would bug you for days if you let him get away with ignoring you during the time you were supposed to be spending together, so you know you have to say something.

You turn back to him and poke his cheek, finally getting his attention. “I’ve been talking to you… Who are you texting so furiously?”

“Oh, it’s Maya. There was a problem with one of our fabrics, but she figured it out.”

Ah… That would make sense why he was so invested in his phone. Letting it go, you let him finish what he needs to do and go inspect the food you had in the kitchen. You didn’t really want to cook, and it looks like you didn’t have enough ingredients to make something delicious anyways, so you leave the kitchen and head back to the living room.

“Hey, do you want to get takeout instead? We don’t really have anything to eat.”

Baekhyun pauses mid text and looks over at you with a slightly guilty look on his face. “Didn’t I tell you Maya and I were going to go get dinner?”

You blink a few times, almost sure you were in a sudden state of shock. “No?”

He hums in thought for a moment. “I swore I did… Well, I want to thank her for fixing the fabric mix-up.”

“Wait a minute… You made the plans today? Even though we already had plans together?” you feel annoyance quickly filling you at the thought of him ending your day together halfway through it. Also, he couldn’t remember if he told you something that he literally just decided to do not even five minutes ago?

“I figured you’d be okay with it… We can have dinner tomorrow.” Baekhyun says as he shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

You try not to let it show, but you are hurt by his actions and the lack of care towards your plans… However, you knew this was important to him, so you would let it go, just like everything else.

“…Oh…okay.”

He walks up to you with a smile and gives you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m gonna go get ready for dinner. You should order yourself some food, though. It’s not good to skip meals.”

You silently watch as he walks toward your bedroom with a noticeable spring in his step. Suddenly, you didn’t feel hungry at all, but you pick up your phone and text Sehun to come over for dinner, anyway. Baekhyun was right. You shouldn’t skip meals.

You hang out on the couch and listen to Baekhyun hum as he gets ready. You try to ignore the hurt you were feeling about the sudden change in plans and how happy he seemed at the thought of getting dinner with Maya. Whether to celebrate a fabric mishap or not.

After what feels like forever, you hear the sound of your apartment door opening, and you glance up to see Sehun entering with bags of food. You quickly jump up to help him carry everything, completely used to him walking into your apartment unannounced.

“Thanks for coming over…” you say as you set the bags on your kitchen counter.

“Yeah, it’s no…”

When Sehun trails off, you look up at your friend’s face and see him staring over your shoulder in confusion before he glances back down at you with a questioning gaze. You turn to look at what had caught his attention and see Baekhyun grabbing his keys and wallet from the table before looking around the room to see if he had everything.

It wasn’t his actions that Sehun thought were weird. It was his appearance. Baekhyun was… decked out to put it slightly. He had on an all-black suit with matching dress shoes, and his hair was tousled artfully like you’ve seen on him a million times… He looked like he was going to an award show, not a dinner with a… business partner? …Now, you understood why it had taken him so long to get ready.

“Did you have a schedule today?” Sehun asks in a weird tone.

Baekhyun pauses his actions, finally taking in the fact that Sehun was here and the two of you were standing there watching him.

“No. I just have some business for Prive to attend to.” Baekhyun decides he has everything he needs before coming over to you and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, so don’t stay up and wait for me.”

With those words, Baekhyun quickly takes off towards the front door and leaves without so much as a goodbye to the two of you. You look over at Sehun to see him glancing around the apartment in confusion.

“Am I in the twilight zone? Why does it look like he’s going to MAMA, and what does he mean don’t stay up late? It’s 6 pm. How much work does he have to do?”

You turn away from the apartment door and lean your elbows on the counter with a sigh. “He’s going to dinner with Maya. She apparently fixed a mistake with fabric… I don’t really know to be honest…”

“Okay… but why is he dressed up like that, and why are they going to dinner over fabric? Also, how long does dinner take?”

You take in Sehun’s questioning state. You were curious about all those things too, very curious in fact, but why was Sehun so worked up about it?

“What’s wrong with you?”

Sehun looks at you in surprise. “You’re not curious about all of that?”

“Well, yeah, I am… but you seem even more worried about it than I do.”

Sehun sighs and turns to begin unpacking the food he brought over. “I just… They kept pulling this shit on tour too. Always going to dinner, always staying out late, and working on Prive. You would think this was a project they were launching from the ground, but it’s not. Baekhyun already has all these connections, so why does it seem like they are doing so much?”

You chew on your lower lip as you take in Sehun’s words. Hearing how much time Baekhyun and Maya spent together and knowing Sehun sees it enough to pay attention to it was bothering you, but you didn’t want it to. You didn’t want to question Baekhyun because he had never ever given you a reason to doubt him before. However, you didn’t see the need to go to dinner over something small like fabric being fixed, and you certainly didn’t see why he had to dress so nicely for it.

“They’ve been texting each other constantly… and today, the two of us were supposed to spend time together, but he… Well, you know…” you trail off and indicate everything that just happened with a wave of your arm.

Sehun hums in thought while he searches your face. A moment later, he shakes his head. “She’s harmless. Ignore me. I’m just making something out of nothing. I’ve only ever heard them talk about designs and other fashion crap, so don’t worry about them.” He holds a food container up in front of your face to distract you. “Here, I got your favorite noodles.”

You grab the container from Sehun, but your mind is still with Baekhyun and Maya. You hadn’t realized how much the two communicated, and it surprised you it was enough that Sehun took notice of it. That Sehun was questioning it…

Over the next week, your communication with Baekhyun drops to nearly zero. Usually, when Baekhyun was at work, he was constantly texting you every chance he could, but now it was just short one-word answers he would reply with. When he’s at home, it’s no different. He spends most of his time coming up with designs or being busy on the phone with Maya.

You try not to let it bother you and to be the supportive girlfriend he deserves, but you can’t help it. It definitely bothers you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you and Baekhyun had a conversation that wasn’t interrupted by or about Maya. Not only that, but you were worried about him. It was like he was being consumed by this new line.

You glance towards the second bedroom that Baekhyun had dubbed his office and come up with an idea, or a reattempt at an old idea. Getting up from the couch you were currently sitting on, you make a beeline for Baekhyun’s office and feel grateful that he left the door wide open.

You peek into the room and find the man in question with his head down on his desk. You knew he wasn’t sleeping from the way he was sighing to himself, so you tiptoe until your behind his chair and slowly let your hands fall onto his back. He jumps at the sudden contact but relaxes once he figures out it’s you.

You slowly rub his back until he sits up, and you begin to work on his shoulders. His head falls forward as you give him a much-needed massage.

“Babe… I think it’s time you take a break… You seem exhausted.”

“I’ll do whatever you want as long as you don’t stop what you’re doing.” He mumbles in a daze.

You knead a little harder as you already plot a way for this to be an advantage to you. “Anything I want, huh?”

He lets out a soft laugh once he hears your tone. “Whatever you desire, love.”

“So many things come to mind when you say that… but I already know what I want.”

“What’s that?” he asks lightly. From the sound of his voice, you can tell he’s almost zoned out from the conversation.

“Take the night off from work, and let’s have a little date night at home…”

You feel him tense up, and you know he wants to protest, so you stop him before he can. “Please, Baek… You’ve been working nonstop since you came home from tour. You’ve barely even had time to rest… One night. That’s all I’m asking.”

He sighs before nodding. “You’re right. I need a break…”

He straightens up and turns his chair around to face you. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he rests his chin on your stomach to look up at you. “Plus, I’ve missed you…”

You run a hand softly down the side of his face with a smile. “I’ve missed you too…”

You get Baekhyun to follow you to the kitchen, and the two of you search for a good meal to make. Once you’re both satisfied with what you find, you begin prepping the meal and get ready to cook.

At least, that’s how it started out. In the middle of chopping up some vegetables, you glance over at Baekhyun and see him smiling at his phone. You ignore it the first time, even the third time, but once you notice Baekhyun has completely stopped helping you make dinner and is instead smiling at his phone, your heart drops.

You were sure it wasn’t work because you’ve never seen him smile at his phone for work. You didn’t think it was the EXO group chat or his friends because he never would stay glued to his phone when the two of you were together for them. Which could only mean one thing… He was talking to Maya.

Baekhyun suddenly lets out a loud laugh, startling you and making you knock some carrots to the ground. You sigh and bend down to pick them up, trying to decide if you even want to try to keep his attention right now.

“What’s so funny?”

He looks over at you in confusion before he remembers where he is.

“Maya sent me a pubg meme.” He tells you before waving his hand. “You wouldn’t get it, or else I’d show it to you.”

Feeling your shoulders drop, you bite your lips at his words. Baekhyun loved showing you stupid memes, especially about what he was interested in… Apparently, now he has someone else to share them with?

“I thought you and Maya only talked about fashion stuff?”

He shakes his head and looks back down at his phone. “We talk about everything. We actually have a lot in common. She’s a really cool girl.”

You ignore the twinge his words cause in your heart, but before you can say anything, his next words have you completely shutting down.

“She’s happy you’re making me take a break, and she thinks your little date night idea is cute.”

Your little date night idea… You mentally scoff. Why did the words sound so condescending all of a sudden?

“Right… Do you think you could actually help me with that little date night idea?”

Your eyes fall to the meat he has yet to season, and his own follow your stare. He jumps once he realizes he hasn’t done a single thing to help you and gives you a sheepish smile before muttering a small apology.

The next half an hour is filled with Baekhyun joking with you, filling you in on his past week, and overall, remembering you were still in the room with him. (Yes, you were being bitter.) He did his best to ignore his phone through cooking and even through dinner, but his eyes slid to it every time there was a ding… and there were a lot of dings.

Once it’s time to settle down and watch a movie, you choose a movie that you and Baekhyun had both been wanting to watch and settle down on the couch next to him. You lay your head against his shoulder and begin watching the movie, but it doesn’t take long for you to feel slight movement beneath your head.

You look over at Baekhyun’s other side and see him responding to a text from Maya. You mentally sigh and sit up, putting your focus back on the movie in front of you. Though, now your attention is derailed because you keep seeing Baekhyun texting from the corner of your eye.

“Wow. That was crazy.” You suddenly say, pretending you’re talking about something that happened in the movie. When he doesn’t even hear you, you try again. “I can’t believe the sister did that.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” He mumbles in agreement, even though what you’re saying has no relevance to the movie whatsoever.

Hurt and disbelief flow through you once you realize Maya has somehow come in between your date night again. That Baekhyun couldn’t even give you a couple of hours of his attention…

“Baek…” you wait until he acknowledges you. “Are you even gonna watch this movie?”

He looks up at you and blinks before looking at the tv. “Oh, I already watched this.”

You open and close your mouth a few times in a complete loss of words. What did he mean he already watched this? When? …Why? The two of you talked about watching it together when it came out…

“You’ve already seen it?”

“Mhmm. Maya and I needed a break the other day, and we both wanted to see it, so we watched it… but you can keep watching it. I don’t mind.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and try to keep the anger you feel in check. All you can do is laugh in disbelief and frustration. Of course. Of course, he watched it with her.

After the anger comes the sadness and hurt. The two of you were supposed to watch it together. He wasn’t supposed to go and watch it with someone else… It felt like Baekhyun was totally disregarding your feelings. Not just about the movie, but about everything at this point.

You sit in silence for another ten minutes before you get up. Your interest in the movie or watching Baekhyun continue to text Maya was long gone. You walk away from the couch without a single word to Baekhyun, and if you were honest, you don’t even think he noticed.

You trek into your shared bedroom and immediately start getting yourself ready for bed. You didn’t care how early it was or that you didn’t say anything to Baekhyun. You were just completely done with the day and wanted nothing more than to crawl under your covers and hibernate, so that’s exactly what you do.

You lay there and try to slip into a different reality, but your mind can’t escape from Baekhyun or Maya. It was like you wanted to torture yourself and replay every word and moment over and over again. This goes on for 20 minutes, and the only reason you can escape the continuous hell is because you hear the doorknob to the bedroom door turn.

You hold your breath and open your eyes to see Baekhyun slowly opening the bedroom door. He creeps in, taking in your covered form with a frown.

“Why did you leave?”

“I’m just tired, that’s all.”

He studies your face for a moment before crawling into bed with you. A part of you wants to turn away as a small form of punishment, but the other part of you just wanted attention from your boyfriend.

He wraps his arm around your back and drags your body toward him without any help from you. He pulls you close until your face is buried in his chest, and he brings his chin down on top of your head. You feel him adjust to kiss the top of your head before settling back down again.

“I’m sorry… I should’ve waited to watch the movie with you.”

You sigh. “Baekhyun, it’s not just about the movie… I’ve hardly seen or spoken to you in a week, and your face is always buried in your phone… That’s not okay…”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He immediately says while squeezing you tight. “I should’ve given you more attention, especially tonight when you tried so hard to give me a relaxing day… Do you forgive me?”

You ignore him because you aren’t entirely sure if you’re ready to forgive him yet, but Baekhyun knew how to always get his way. He nuzzles into your neck, and you feel his lips brush against your skin.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Okay, I’ll forgive you…” you quickly relent before he goes for a ticklish area, though the words seem meaningless at the moment.

You feel him smirk against your skin before he suggestively says, “Good… because you can have all of my attention right now if you want…”

“Baek…” you whine, definitely not wanting to give in with how he’s been acting lately.

He pushes you onto your back and crawls on top of you, pushing his legs in between yours. “Let me make it up to you, baby…”

Tagging: @gyukult @marovekian1 @making-me-blush @softforqiankun @sebootyforlife @nothingbutadeadesceane @cardtak @brie02 @jungkooksworld18 @insta1010 @suhappysuho @purple-bell @sorrowinblood @softysuho

309 notes · View notes

joontier · 3 years

Text

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1; report x

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: R-18 | genre: humor, romance, smut (voyeurism, masturbation), swearing

warnings: GET READY FOR SOME ACTIONNNNN

word count: 1.8k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Right after you put away your groceries, you take a quick shower and head to bed. Truly, there was nothing better than a refreshing shower after a long day - especially when you know you’re not going to be able to enjoy times like these anymore once you start working. Just then, you recall having to set your alarm early tomorrow because it was your first day, plus the other two wanted to meet up for breakfast before heading to work.

As you lie on your bed, scrolling through your barely active social media accounts, you hear a soft thud coming from Ayoung’s apartment. Huh, she must be moving stuff - seems strange though that she’s doing it with a potential tenant present. You don’t pay much attention to it though until it happens again and suddenly a faint moan reaches your ears. Your eyes widen, thoughts of all sorts running through your head. You must be mistaken. You should be mistaken.

You hear it again, and it gets repetitive until there’s a steady rhythm that has you certain about something that could be happening there. You’re really not one to meddle with people’s private businesses, especially ones of this particular kind. You push each incoming thought away, regardless if it is an innocent one or not. It proves otherwise though, with the sound coming in clear for a wall separating the two apartments.

At the same time, you also wish the best for Ayoung and if this man is a moving-away gift in disguise as this one, well you’re incredibly happy for her. Who were you to take that happiness away from her? But as the man’s grunts become more audible and prominent, your immediate reaction to it is beyond you, and you’re almost involuntarily rubbing your thighs together at the sound.

‘No’, you think to yourself, stopping your southward train of thoughts and its imminent course of action. Rubbing at your temple, you wonder how could you even allow such pompous thoughts cross your mind.

Groaning, you lie on your stomach and mush your face against your pillow as if to block those indecent images threatening to corrupt your mind. It isn’t right to get off someone else’s steamy evening, more particularly, that of your friend’s, so you close your eyes and focus on trying to get some sleep.

You can’t.

Not when this man’s heavy breathing sounds just as hot as Ayoung finds him to be.

Not when this man sounds just like a porn star.

And especially not when this man’s vocals are so stimulating to the point that it feels like an invitation for you to join the fun. Or at least, take an imaginary part in it.

Holy shit.

Tapping your fingers furiously on the bed covers, you ask yourself if you have really reached this level of desperation? That your lack of human touch is causing you to question the very principle of civility?

You shake your head as you reach for your earphones. Coincidentally, Spotify’s shuffle decides to land on a Jamie Foxx track.

What is with the universe constantly trying to fuck you up?

You tap on the next button quickly, turning the volume all the way up in the hopes of ridding yourself of unclean thoughts, that is, until you hear Satan himself let out a particularly loud grunt, one you can practically feel travel straight to your core. Jesus.

The voice of your evil miniature self on your left shoulder whispers in your ear, “It isn’t often for you to get ahold of an opportunity like this. Go get some,” she says, holding your angelic self on a chokehold with her own halo.

She had a point though, and you really could only imagine having more time for yourself starting tomorrow. Besides, it’s been a while since you truly ‘relaxed’. And to top all of that, with the apartment walls as thin as paper, you can literally feel your neighbor’s bed now moving in a steady rhythm. You’re even surprised you’ve managed to keep your self-control this long. Not long enough though, unfortunately.

Now that you’ve come to think of it, this man must be on a different level entirely if Ayoung could let herself get...dicked down during a simple visit (and for the first time too!). Just imagining what he probably looks like is sending a light tingle down your spine.

You sigh, ultimately giving into the temptation. There’s no turning back now.

Slowly, you slide your shorts down your legs, giving yourself time to still contemplate...but, hesitation was never really your strong point (a trait of yours that had truly blossomed since your friendship with Chohee). So off go your underwear too.

As quietly as possible, you scoot over to the wall, just enough to let your shoulder touch your old, boring, beige wallpaper. You feel your neighbor’s bed move with a little more intensity this time, and you trail your fingers downward to your cunt, which is surely wet by now with all your thinking.

The man’s grunts are louder than Ayoung’s thankfully, leaving everything to your imagination. You start at a steady pace, wanting to test the waters. With the couple just a mere distance away from you, save the wall separating your apartments, you try to match your pace with the pair.

Letting your digit circle your clit, you work yourself out to your orgasm - that is, until your climax won’t arrive and you figure just using your fingers won’t get the job done. Just as if you thought the sounds they were making weren’t enough to get you over the edge. It’s been a while since you had any ‘action’ and your rust ass won’t allow you to cum with just your fingers.

Hurriedly, you draw out a small box from beneath your bed. In haste, you throw the cover across the small room, fishing for what used to be a very good friend of yours before: Lovecorner’s limited edition of Real Feel 7. Never too late to catch up with good ol’ friends.

You turn on the device, hoping that there’s enough battery left to get you through the night. Closing your eyes, you circle the dildo around your nether lips, gathering all the slick there. A few more moments and you gradually insert the toy inside you, causing you to shiver in excitement. Gulping, you only push it halfway through at first, wanting to get used to the feeling again..

There’s a short pause from the other side of the wall, one you use to your advantage to keep up. When you feel them continue, you pick up your pace, both desperation and shame pumping you up so you could get this night over with as quickly as possible.

Just as you had expected, you feel their breathing get heavier by the second, and your bed is practically shaking with...what you presume to be yours and their movements combined.

For some reason beyond your understanding, you work yourself out on your trusty companion, taking in every whimper and grunt from the other side of the wall like it’s your own, like you’re the one fucking like there is no tomorrow.

You’re getting closer to your high - a feeling almost foreign to you at this point, and with the last string of sheer will, you push the toy further up to the hilt, stroking your g-spot so perfectly that your orgasm has got you quivering in bed for more than thirty seconds.

Breathless as ever, you lie in bed, staring straight into the ceiling.

What. Was. That. All. About.

You press your thighs together, an unexpected reaction from the reality of tonight’s events suddenly dawning in on you. You did not just get yourself off from your neighbor's live porn.

With no more movement coming from Ayoung’s apartment, you could only assume that their day has officially concluded as well. Sighing, you make your way to your bathroom, treading over your floor as lightly as you could with your sore legs.

Ten minutes and a refreshing half bath later, you head back to bed, exhaustion causing you to fall asleep in seconds.

The sound of your jarring iPhone alarm blares right in your ear, scaring the living hell out of you exactly 6:45 in the morning. You wake up in a fright, panting heavily as you scramble to turn off the horrible sound.

Quickly, you get off of your bed, proceeding with your daily morning routine. You tick off breakfast at home today, having scheduled your morning meal with Jimin and Soomin as your first official day as employees of Woocheon Medical City.

Making sure you’ve got everything in your duffel bag - extra clothes, toiletries, and the rest of your essentials, you lock the door to your apartment, sealing it off with a slight jiggle to the knob to assure yourself.

Ayoung’s door likewise creaks open, and you glance at it through your peripheral vision to see a man coming out. Your eyes widen - he stayed the night then. Hm. You’re unsure if you want to suspect him of something other than a one night stand, or it’s just this curious itch inside you that makes you want to check who’s responsible for last night’s...occurrences.

Mustering all that courageous chi Chohee has hopefully transferred onto you, you linger a little bit by your doorway before facing the man. Thankfully, the stranger doesn’t make your job difficult for you and looks your way as well.

No.

This can’t be.

Turns out, Mr. Stranger who was supposed to be your hot neighbor as Ayoung claims is no stranger at all.

It had to be.

You look away just as quickly as you looked at him. “________? Hey! I didn’t know you lived next door!” Your lips form a thin line. Why does he make it sound like you’re already neighbors?

“Jungkook,” you nod to answer his question. “Good morning to you too.”

Your cheeks heat up with the range of emotions you’re feeling: anger - from him not even remembering Ayoung’s name; shame - for your actions last night; disappointment - there’s a possibility of you two becoming neighbors and you’d inevitably have to face him more often than not.

“Where are you off to? Gym?”

Why does he think you’re going to gym in a collared shirt, jeans, and flats? And more importantly, why are you two even having this conversation?

The elevator doors open and your impromptu escape plan springs into action, and currently, just like your legs. “Work actually! And I’m going to be late, so bye for now!” You sprint towards the elevator, quickly pressing a button to close the doors.

You let out a sigh of relief as the doors close, leaving Jungkook with a confused look on his face.

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #ksmutclub #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jungkook au #jungkook imagine #bts series #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abigail anderson #abby fic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfiction #ellie #ellie tlou #leah tlou #jordan tlou #owen moore #owen x mel #mel tlou #owen tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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softyoongiionly · 3 years

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Seventeen

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: Hi friends! Here is a new chapter for you. I know it’s been a super duper long time since I’ve updated this series but, I plan on wrapping up the current timeline (wink wink) within the first half of the year! Special shoutout to my amazing friend @bulletproofbirdy who I love so so much. Without her big genius brain, I would literally not be able to get through any of my wip. Another huge shoutout to @gldnrecs @kithtaehyung @yoonia and @randombtsprincessa for being my lil hype team. I love you! Also, thank you to everyone over at @bangtansorciere. I am so grateful to have met so many lovely new friends this year! okiii bye. I hope you like it!

NOTE: all bolded words indicate when characters are speaking Korean

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go…(TRIGGER WARNING)

moderate angst, drug use (marijuana), mentions of anxiety, brief allusions to physical abuse, very brief allusions to drug addiction, alcohol

Chapter Seventeen: Daegu and Dirty Laundry

No thoughts, head empty (and in Yoongi’s lap)

The two of you are in his living room, bags packed by the front door, awaiting the cab to take you to the airport.

In a few short hours, you were leaving on a plane to Daegu to visit Yoongi’s older brother and, you can tell by the way he’s shuffled around all morning that he’s anxious.

Thankfully, Hoseok and Namjoon woke up with him, knowing that emotions would be high and well- offered to get him high.

“This is a really good indica strain hyung,” Hoseok assures him as he hands over a zip-lock bag, “I rolled a joint with this last night and passed out in like 30 minutes.”

Yoongi, dressed in an all-black sweat outfit, accepts the bag into the palm of his hand, before grabbing the pipe that’s resting on the couch cushion beside him.

“Did you get it from that same guy?” Yoongi asks, his voice heavy beneath the obvious tension he’s feeling.

Despite his attempts to remain casual, you know him well enough to feel how nervous he is. He’s practically vibrating beneath you but, you know that pointing this out will only make it worse so instead, you merely rub the outside of his thigh whilst he packs his pipe.

“Yeah, Jin’s friend-” Hoseok responds before nodding to Namjoon, “He’s honestly killing it right now. Jin told me he’s made like 5 grand already.”

Namjoon raises his brows, “Really? Damn, that’s impressive, I’ve never heard of anyone taking off that fast.”

“Jin has a lot of contacts-” Yoongi offers, adjusting the bud once more before grabbing his lighter, “it probably helped him get started. Plus, I think a lot of people around here have been looking for a good plug. Whatever he’s doing is working though, the high from last night was pretty good.”

At Yoongi’s comment, Hoseok’s lip melt into a salacious smirk as he raises his brows and jerks his chin towards you, “Are you sure it had nothing to do with that one over there?” He teases, “Yah, what are you so quiet for? You haven’t given me shit all morning...”

His comment makes you giggle but Yoongi cuts in before you’re able to respond.

“She’s tired, leave her alone.” He scolds but his lips twitch at the sound of your laughter.

Hoseok snickers as you finally decide to sit up. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you even as he lifts the pipe to his mouth. Tucking yourself into the side of the couch, you finally decide to add to the conversation.

“Is the guy you pick up named Yugyeom by chance?” The sleepiness in your tone is more obvious than you were expecting and, it makes Yoongi smile to himself whilst he lights his pipe.

Namjoon nods, “Yeah, it is. Do you know him?”

Yoongi’s attention is on you even as he inhales his first hit, the nerves in his body standing at attention, waiting to be soothed.

“He was in my human sexuality class.” You remember, with a grin on your lips, “That’s actually where I met Jin too. I just had a feeling that it was him because, he literally always came to class high. Plus, him and Jin were like inseparable.”

Namjoon winces, “Of all the people to get stuck learning about sex with. I’m sorry...”

This makes you laugh, as your mind journey’s back to all the days you spent trying not to make a scene as Jin made sexual puns in the middle of a serious lecture.

“It definitely kept things interesting...” You offer, “I’m glad to hear that Yugyeom is thriving on his own. He mentioned his dad wanted him to join the family business but, I could never picture that man in a suit.”

Hoseok chuckles before his face tightens with intrigue, “Oof that makes one of us. He would look fine as hell in a suit.”

Namjoon grins, nudging Hoseok with his foot, “You got a thing for him?”

For the first time, you see a hint of shyness overcoming Hoseok’s demeanor but he shrugs it off, trying to appear casual, “I mean- I don’t know about all that. I’m just saying that he would look good in a suit.”

“You’d both look good in suits- together...” You offer, grinning at him, “Maybe in a private venue somewhere...”

Hoseok rolls his eyes but the smile creeping onto his lips is unmistakable, “Shut up- you guys are fucking wild. All I said is that he was hot...”

Giggling, you shrug your shoulders before nodding over to Yoongi, “Yeah well that’s how it starts-” You warn, “Then the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the subway, simping over a selfie he sends you.”

Yoongi’s soft lips immediately turn up in a small smile, the shy boy in him peeking out. At first, he says nothing as he merely passes the pipe to Namjoon, who mirrors a similar expression.

Hoseok is back to his normal mischief, feeling relieved that the heat is off him for the time being.

“Are you saying you’d marry Yoongi then?”

He expects you to be flustered by this question but, the answer is simple.

“This man?” You raise your brows as you point to Yoongi, “You’re asking me if I would marry this man right here? Hoseok- I would wife this man up so quickly, it would give you whiplash.”

Your comment causes the three of them to laugh and, to add to the shifting vibe of the room, you feel Yoongi wrap his arm around you in an effort to pull you into his side.

“You can’t say shit like that right in front of them, they don’t need to see me soft...” He mumbles shyly in your ear before kissing your cheek, his heart singing with validation.

“Hyung, you act like we don’t already know who whipped you are for this girl.” Hoseok laughs, eagerly accepting the pipe from a coughing Namjoon.

Yoongi ignores him with his arm still around you, checking his phone with the other hand, “The cab should be here soon, do you need anything before we go?”

“Hyung, you’re gonna leave your piece here right? Cause we kinda need it-”

Namjoon eyes him suspiciously, “What happened to your bong?”

Hoseok cringes, “I may have accidentally dropped it off the rooftop...”

Namjoon’s eyes blow wide open, “What the fuck were you doing on the rooftop to begin with?”

“I wanted to vibe! The bud was good and, I wanted to listen to the J. Cole album and get in my feelings hyung, get off my dick-” He laughs, playfully defensive.

“Hey that’s J Cole song-” You point out giggling at the double meaning, the exhaustion from earlier finding you once again.

“Exactly, I’m glad you caught that-” Hoseok winks at you before Yoongi finally responds.

“I’m not going to take my pipe through international security. Pot isn’t legal in Korea so, I wouldn’t be smoking while we were there anyway.”

“Oh shit that’s right-” Namjoon remembers, “I really need to keep up with what’s been going on back home, I heard they were opening the discussion about it recently but, I haven’t kept up with it.”

Hoseok interjects, “What about your brother? He probably has connections.”

Yoongi shrugs, “He might but, I'm not going to worry about it.” He glances at his phone again before turning it towards you, “Our car is here, you ready to go?”

You offer him a small smile as you nod, your cheek tingling still as he places another kiss to it.

He stands up first before holding his hand out to you. Eagerly, you lace your fingers with his and, hoist yourself off the couch.

“Alright you two-” Namjoon stands too, brushing his hands over the front of his hoodie, “Try and send us updates when you can yeah?” He shoots a look towards Yoongi that is filled with an emotion that breaches casual concern.

Yoongi understands perfectly, offering Namjoon a solemn nod in return as he pats his shoulder, “Yeah I will. I’ll text you when we land...”

Moments later, the two of you are in the back of the cab. Yoongi takes the middle seat so he can be close to you, his fingers are interlaced tightly with your own despite the fact that his hand is already sweating.

He’s anxious.

You can feel it and, you’re faced with two options.

Address it

Distract him

It’s not an easy choice but, you figure this weekend will already be filled with heightened emotions so, you’re not sure if you should breach this topic so early. At the same time though, you don’t want to act like nothing’s wrong and dismiss what he’s clearly feeling.

So, you land somewhere in the middle.

Yoongi’s jaw is loaded with tension as you reach over and turn his face towards yours. He doesn’t register what you’re doing at first but he is in tune with your touch as always so, he doesn’t question it.

Leaning in, you tuck your lips between his own, whilst your free hand comes up to encase the side of his face. You feel him relax beneath your kiss, a sigh leaving his nose as he kisses you back slowly.

You pull away, pecking at his lips a few times, your thumb rubbing over his cheek.

“It’s going to be ok.” You murmur softly for the sake of his privacy, “We’re going to get through this.”

Yoongi’s eyes open just enough to show you the sheer amount of trust present in them.

He believes everything that comes out of your mouth and, despite the anxiety that’s raging inside of him, he knows you’re right.

Pressing his cheek against your hand, a soft smirk graces his lips as he resists the urge to pour his heart out to you for the millionth time.

“I wish it was socially acceptable for you to kiss me like that every time I feel like this...”

You giggle, pecking his lips again for good measure, “It would make our psych presentation really interesting that’s for sure.”

He chuckles, his face adorably smushed against your hand, “I keep forgetting that we have to do that. I don’t even remember the last time we worked on it...”

“Me neither.” You say at first before your eyes light up with realization, “Oh my god wait- the last time was when we watched that horrible spider movie at my apartment! Ugh no wonder I couldn’t remember, I’m pretty sure I've blocked those images from my mind as a coping mechanism.”

Yoongi’s face lights up along with you, “Oh shit, that’s right-” He laughs, “Did we even finish our lists?”

The two of you share another round of laughter, caught up in the ridiculous realization that you had lowkey abandoned your final project.

You lean over to pull your phone out of your purse, “Here let me check-” Scrolling through your notes app, you find the project tab before allowing your eyes to wander over it, “It looks like I still have deep water and you technically still have night clubs and horror movies. But I mean- you did perform in a night club recently so I feel like that should count.”

He nods thoughtfully before his face lights up with realization once more, “Oh yeah, I already wrote about that in the research journal, I forget to tell you. That was definitely more of a direct confrontation than I was planning.” He chuckles, “We did sit on the beach and read terrifying facts about the depth of the ocean for mine, would that be enough for you to write about?”

The two of you have maneuvered so that you’re tucked into Yoongi’s side again, his arm draping comfortably around your shoulders.

“You still have horror movies left though so, I feel like I should maybe confront one more directly too. Besides, I have a feeling that I’ll be able to distract myself in the water if you’re there-” You mumble suggestively, which causes him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Oh yeah?” He jerks his head towards you “How so?”

Resting your face on his chest, you smile to yourself and think of a response that’s appropriate for a perfect stranger aka your cab driver, to hear.

“Cause if something touches my feet in the water, I could simply latch myself to your back for safety purposes.” You explain matter of factly.

“If something touched your foot while we were in the water, I’d swim away so fucking fast- I don’t think you’d have time to latch on.” He explains through his laughter

Scoffing, you smack your hand against his chest as you sit up fully, wiggling out of his grip, “So you’d just leave me to die???” You accuse, “Also, last time I checked- you weren’t an Olympic swimmer, what makes you think you’d just zoom out of there???”

Yoongi’s cackling at this point, his hand on his stomach, his previously tense features now smoothed out beneath his amusement, “I’m not saying I would leave you necessarily-”

“Necessarily!” You point out, laughter erupting from your lips as you pinch his side, “After everything we’ve been through, you’re really just gonna let a sea monster eat me!?”

His eyes widen, as his laughter increases, “A sea monster?! Who said anything about a sea monster? Where did they come in????”

“I said something touched my foot???? Obviously that means there is a sea monster, lurking in the depths, trying to eat me and you-” You poke his sternum, “You just said you would leave me to die!”

Yoongi’s face is reddened with the force of his own laughter, his hand subconsciously coming up to cover your own. With his eyes tearing up and his mouth parted to make way for his giggling, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is.

Especially when he’s laughing...

He wipes his eyes with his free hand, still chuckling lightly to himself even as he brings your hand to his mouth, “Alright, alright- let's be clear- I would never leave you to die.” He promises, still smirking as he kisses the back of your hand, “Realistically, I’d probably panic and jump on YOUR back.”

With narrowed eyes, you wiggle the fingers he has pressed to his lips, “Well I don’t know how that would work out because, I’d probably you know- swim away so fucking fast that I don’t know if you’d have time to latch on...”

Yoongi snickers as you imitate his voice but, rather than retaliate he simply tugs you by the hand his currently holding and, kisses you.

It’s soft and sweet- lasting only for a few seconds until he’s pulling away.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He says suddenly, the volume of his voice decreasing significantly.

And as usual, you know that he wants to say way more than he does. But you’re perfectly fine with that.

Yoongi’s subtly is a specific brand and, you’ve grown to love how the little things he does allows him to pack so much emotion into a simple phrase.

You feel lucky to love such a special person.

“Of course.” You return his simplicity, pecking his lips once more before settling back in your original position.

The airport was a blur.

You’re thankful it passes quickly because, the process of getting through security makes you anxious.

Yoongi ushers you into your seat before taking both of your bags and, storing them in the overhead compartment. You can’t help but smile as he turns to help an older woman with her luggage as well.

He smiles ( :] ) at her, bowing his head slightly as she thanks him. Yoongi offers her a tiny wave and takes his seat beside you, not noticing the way you smile fondly at him.

When he takes his seat beside you, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Once the flight crew permits it, Yoongi takes his laptop out and begins toying around with one of his songs. You pull your headphones out as well and find one of your favorite playlists. Leaning back against the seat, your eyes eventually begin to droop until you can no longer keep them open.

The next thing you know, you’re being woken up by someone gently patting your thigh.

“Sleepy girl...” Yoongi croons in Korean, the sound of his voice alone making you smile, “We’re landing soon.”

Slightly disoriented, you blink your eyes a few times before you’re finally able to focus on your boyfriend’s face.

You slump against him, rubbing your cheek against the material of his hoodie. He chuckles softly, his arm sliding out from underneath you in order to drape across your shoulders.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” You mumble

He chuckles again, nodding with a false sense of consideration, “Ah yes, you missed so much. Two hours ago, the flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink. It was a wild ride...”

Giggling sleepily, you shake your head at his sarcasm before pointing at his laptop.

“Were you working on your composition project?”

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head, a bashful expression on his face “No, it was just a song I’ve been working on for a while now.”

He leaves it at that and, due to the signal from the flight crew, Yoongi begins putting his stuff away as the rest of the cabin prepares for landing.

“Are we taking the train?” You mumble, still fighting off the remnants of your nap.

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes narrowed in concentration whilst he scrolls through his phone.

“No, I have a cab waiting for us.” He responds, “It says it’s already here. So, when you get out of customs, just meet me right outside. It should just be a straight shot from immigration.”

You nod and rest your head back against his shoulder, “Okay.”

He puts his phone away, allowing his hand to find yours. Intertwining your fingers, he takes a deep breath- his mind clearly elsewhere. You squeeze his hand to acknowledge this but, the two of you don’t comment on it.

There is no need.

With the tightening of your grip, so much has already been said.

Less than a half hour later, the two of you are once again seated in the back of the cab.

“It’s probably going to rain a lot while we’re here.” Yoongi explains, his voice low and slow, “This is Daegu’s rainy season. I’ve been checking the weather periodically and it looks like there might be a storm coming but, it doesn’t look too severe.”

You look at the window after his comment, noticing that the sky is overflowing with heavy clouds, swollen and gray with the promise of rain.

“We’re approaching monsoon season, we call it uh- jangma.” He tells you and his explanation makes you smile.

Despite the circumstances, you’re very honored and excited to be in Yoongi’s hometown. You know the memories he associates with this place are complex but, there is a shift in his tone now and, he sounds eager to teach you about this place: the place he called home for so long.

And you’d gladly listen for hours.

“Jangma-” You repeat, trying to get the pronunciation right, causing him to refocus his attention back on you. He smiles softly and nods,

“Good job.”

Your heart skips a beat at his approval as you return his smile, “Is there gonna be thunder?”

Yoongi chuckles, “Do you want there to be thunder?”

You nod eagerly, “I love storms. When I was little, I would just sit at the window and watch them go by. I’m pretty sure our neighbors thought I was crazy. But I don’t know- I've always had a thing for bad weather...”

He smirks, glancing out the window and then back at you, “That explains a lot.”

Giggling, you cock your head, “What do you mean?”

Yoongi gestures to himself, his now playful gaze looking at you expectantly. You laugh at his insinuation,

“I see the resemblance.” You concede, gently patting his cheek, “You’re not nearly as gloomy as you think you are though.”

“To you-” He retorts, “You always forget that...”

“Pleaaaase.” You disagree, “You’re soft for other people too, don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you deal with Namjoon and Hobi...”

He shakes his head, “Yeah but things are still different with you, I don’t think you realize that.”

You nudge yourself underneath his arm once more, cuddling up with him as best as you can in the back of a cab.

“I know you’re especially-” You emphasize the word, “soft for me. I’m just saying that you come across more approachable than you think you do.”

Yoongi smirks to himself, seemingly understanding something that you don’t.

“Soft is an understatement.” He retorts, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Whateverrrr.” You tease him, your eyes trailing down to focus on his hands, “I’m still right.”

He chuckles, his figure shaking lightly beneath you, “You usually are.”

The cab pulls off of the highway, and it’s then that you begin to notice the way the scenery around you shifts from a middle class/ metropolitan vibe to something much much...fancier.

Through the winding streets, the cab begins taking the two of you up a pretty steep hill before turning onto a street full of ridiculously nice houses.

White marble, giant glass windows, and driveways filled to the brim with luxury vehicles zip by as the car turns down another street. Similar in theme but greater in size, the new street had much larger houses on more sizeable plots of land- likely designed to give the owners privacy amongst their neighbors.

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you then and, you know very well that he’s observing your reaction.

He knows that even though he told you his brother was wealthy that, that phrase alone wouldn’t be enough to properly convey what that entailed.

“This neighborhood is really beautiful,” You observe softly, eyes still glued to the window, “The architecture is so different than anything I’ve ever seen.”

And of course, this makes Yoongi smile.

Because of course, you aren’t making a fuss about the degree of luxury before you. You’re finding the beauty in what otherwise is a very stressful situation.

Finally, the cab pulls into a driveway right behind a black Tesla before putting the car in park.

He and Yoongi exchange a few words in Korean as Yoongi hands him a small wad of money.

“Thank you.” You murmur to the cab driver with a slight bow of your head to which he responds with a tight smile and a similar bow.

You and Yoongi unload your bags from the trunk and as he is reaching for your hand, the front door of the house swings open.

A man a few inches taller than Yoongi steps out. His black hair is neatly arranged in a middle part and he’s dressed in a beige turtleneck and white slacks. As he comes closer, the resemblance between the two of them is staggering.

“Hello!” He calls with a warm smile, his voice bright, “Welcome! Come on in, the rain is supposed to pick back up soon.”

His expression only glows as he spots his younger brother. He looks excited to see him but, his movements are apprehensive.

The unspoken tension is already present and, you can feel Yoongi almost freeze up as he draws near. Subtly, you coax him along offering his brother a warm smile as the two of you approach the landing just in front of his door.

Normally, you don’t get nervous when meeting new people but, this situation is laced with so much complexity- you aren’t sure how to act.

Thankfully Yoongi finally speaks, “Good to see you hyung. Thank you for having us on such short notice.” His tone is almost unrecognizable as he gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N-” He gestures back to his brother, “This is my older brother Geum-jae hyung.”

Bowing your head slightly, you smile once more, “It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me.”

Geum-jae nods, eyeing you softly as his lips press into a tight line, “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N. I promise you, the pleasure is all mine.”

Yoongi motions for you to step in front of him so, you follow his lead and trail behind his brother through the doorway.

Geum-jae's home resembles a marble statue. It’s clean, beautiful and, elegant- but lifeless. Geum-jae has artwork of various styles all over his walls, crisp white couches, sleek granite countertops and, stainless-steel appliances however, there is not one bit of evidence that anyone even lives here. The house feels empty despite the amount of effort put into its appearance.

It makes you sad.

“You have a beautiful home.”

Your voice echoes off the dead weight of the walls, the paintings themselves seeming to arch a brow at your comment. Geum-jae however, smiles and nods graciously,

“Thank you. I just moved in not too long ago so, there is a lot I want to do. I definitely could have used this one’s expertise-” He nods to Yoongi, “He was always really good at that kind of stuff...”

Your boyfriend smirks, his eyes taking in his surroundings but failing to really focus on anything; he was too wound up, “You could have. I would have charged you though...”

Geum-jae chuckles and you see him glance at Yoongi fondly for a split second before he quickly reverts to his casual demeanor.

“I put you guys on the second floor facing the skyline-” He gestures to the ivory staircase, “I’m sure you want some time to freshen up and relax so, please take all the time you need. I’m having BBQ brought over tonight but, if you’re hungry- feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”

Yoongi allows you to step in front of him whilst taking the suitcase from your hands. The two men follow behind you as Geum-jae continues laying out the plans for the evening,

“I have a few virtual meetings to attend that I wasn’t able to move around but, I will be free as of 7 this evening. Until then, please make yourselves at home. I am really-” He seems to take a deep breath for emphasis, “really happy to have you here.”

“Thank you hyung.” Yoongi smiles slightly once the three of you reach the outside of the guest room, “Good luck with your meetings. Let me know if you need help with dinner.”

Geum-jae responds with a tight nod, “Will do. I’ll be in my office so, feel free to explore.” As he pushes open the door for you, he allows his own pained expression to meet yours, “I’m honored to meet you Y/N. Thank you for coming all this way with my brother.”

“Well-” You squeeze Yoongi’s hand gently, “He’s lucky I like him so much...”

Cheeks flushed, Yoongi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but his lips are practically puckered against the smile he’s trying to stifle.

“That’s fair.” Geum-jae chuckles, “Let me know if you two need anything. I’ll just be downstairs...”

With that, Yoongi pushes open the door and allows you to step inside before following behind you.

“Wow.” You whisper to yourself as you take in the scene before you.

The walls are painted a soft gray and surrounding only three sides of the bedroom. The fourth wall is made entirely of glass and given that the house rests upon a hill, you’re able to make out the skyline of the inner city. A giant four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, covered completely in a white duvet and three rows of pillows. Dark gray curtains sit on either side of the massive window as various muted colors accent the room in the form of a dresser, two nightstands and, a set of couches at the end of the bed.

Yoongi is silent behind you as he sets the bags down at the entrance of the room. He pushes the door shut and allows his eyes to move over the space for a moment.

It's nice, he thinks, but he can’t find himself to be very impressed.

He knows where this money comes from and, even though his brother is out of the crime sector now, it still feels strange to acknowledge his wealth.

Noticing his silence, you turn towards him, eyes tracing over the features of his face to assess his mood.

With a slight and subconscious pout, he looks at you, his body seemingly full of a breath he wants to take.

“Do you want to lay down for a bit? I know you didn’t sleep on the plane.”

At your offer, he seems to deflate slightly, lips turning up at the corners, “I think I want to shower first...”

Immediately, you nod with an encouraging smile, “Yeah go shower babe, I’ll just-”

He interrupts you, sticking his hand out and flexing his fingers in a grabbing motion, “Come with me.”

His offer makes you giggle, “You want me to shower with you?”

Yoongi closes the distance between you, using his grabby hands to lock onto your hips, “No, I meant like come with me as in come watch me...yes I want you to shower with me.”

Your laughter heightens as you pinch his side, causing him to recoil before chuckling.

“You’re such a punk today...” You scold.

Yoongi simply chuckles warmly as he kisses the side of your head, the tone of his voice lowering significantly, “That usually means something to you doesn’t it?”

It does.

It usually means he’s having trouble vocalizing his needs and, he’s in need of attention. And the type of attention is usually a specific brand.

And it usually comes with a little bit of pain.

However, you don’t think it’s a good idea to indulge that side of Yoongi’s desires at the moment because, his emotions aren’t fully organized. You know the talk with his brother is causing him a lot of stress and, as much as you liked to wreck his body right now- you know it’s best to wait until later.

That doesn’t mean you can’t take care of him though...

“Come on-” You urge him, grabbing his hand and practically running towards the bathroom, “Let's get you clean, king.”

He laughs, stumbling into the bathroom which is just as nice and similarly colored as the room.

“I’m a king now?”

His question goes over your head as you notice the ridiculously oversized bathtub in the center of the room. Biting your lip, you turn towards him and point at it.

“Do you want to take a bath instead? The shower looks amazing and all but- this thing literally looks like a jacuzzi.”

Yoongi eyes it curiously, his teeth finding his bottom lip, looking a little apprehensive, “How would you want to sit in it though? I kinda uh- I kinda thought maybe we could stand under the water for a bit together, like last time...”

He wants you to hold him.

He’s not going to say it but, he needs it.

Like really bad.

You can see his nerves creeping into his posture so, you decide to act quickly before he somehow convinces himself that he’s being too needy.

Looking around the room, you spot a few things that could aid in his relaxation: candles, bubble bath, a neatly folded pile of fluffy gray towels...

“I’ll show you.” You assure him, “Close your eyes really quick- no peeking. I have a plan...”

Yoongi looks at you, suspicious all over his face, “I’m scared.”

Giggling, you raise your brows for emphasize, “Oh you should be-”

He can’t help but smirk at your tone despite the anticipation swimming in his gut. He trusts you though so, instead of arguing- he shuts his eyes.

Shuffling around the bathroom, you set things up in record time, turning the water on, pouring the rose scented bubble bath beneath the stream, and lighting a few candles along the ivory counter. Yoongi maintains his smirk the entire time, folding his arms across his chest, stifling his desire to make a snarky comment.

“Alright,” You sigh, dusting your hands off, “Ta daaaaa.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, blinking a few times before taking in the scene in front of him. It changes his smirk into a grin really quickly as his cat-like eyes flit over to you.

“Are you planning on sacrificing me?” He quips, nodding to the candles.

Snorting, you roll your eyes, “If you keep talking shit, I just might-” You threaten, laughter forming on the tail end of your sentence, “Get naked...”

Yoongi snickers, his face full of satisfaction as his finger tuck beneath his hoodie to tug it over his head. The two of you undress in a small bout of silence and attempt to sneak glances at one another’s naked form.

“I’m going to get in first and then you’re going to sit in front of me, between my legs...” You explain, trying not to shiver as the cool air of the bathroom begins to grow uncomfortable.

His brows raise, “Between your legs?” He confirms, “Say no more...”

Once again, your eyes are rolling but this time, there is a smile on your lips as you move to take your spot beneath the warmth of the water. Yoongi has to take a deep breath as he watches you, his emotions brewing dangerously beneath the surface at the sight of the woman he loves.

He still doesn’t fully understand it.

He is still meet with endless confusion when he starts to think about why you’ve chosen to be with him but, he knows better now than to question it.

You have your reasons, he thinks, and he has a million of his own.

Looking up from beneath the mountain of bubbles, you pat the top of them, looking at him expectantly, “Come here.”

He grabs the hand that you extend towards him, balancing himself on it whilst he steps into the tub. Modestly, he turns his body away from you for a second so he’s able to bend down before pivoting beneath the water and settling against your chest. The bathtub is big enough for the water to go past his shoulders and, he feels his entire body relax once he feels your body against his.

“Comfy?” You check, draping your arms across his chest.

Yoongi nods, his head leaning back and resting against your left shoulder. Once it lands there, you turn and kiss his temple which then prompts one of his hands to reach up rest on yours. Silently, you place a few more kisses against his hairline, allowing him to decompress however he wants to, not wanting to pressure him into talking about anything.

And he doesn’t, at least not for a while.

The only sounds between the two of you are the dribbling of water from the faucet and the low whisper of breathing. Every so often, you kiss his temple, just so he knows that he isn’t alone.

“Seeing my brother is really difficult.” He mumbles, eyes still closed, hand still on top of yours, “Even just seeing his face- it brings back a lot of memories.”

You nod, “I can imagine- especially since it’s been so long.”

Yoongi sighs, his eyes fluttering open and honing in on the ceiling, “I haven’t seen him since I was 18. He came to Sejin’s place just before I moved in with Namjoon. He tried to talk to me to let me know that he was leaving the business but, I barely said anything. I was too angry at him.”

Using your free hand, you rub softly at his chest under the water, silently encouraging him to continue.

“He never helped me when my father would-” He takes a deep breath through his nose, his throat bobbing as he swallows on the exhale, “the time I told you about, when my father hit me...that wasn’t the only time. It happened often towards the end.”

Your eyes shut momentarily, the pain of Yoongi being harmed stinging your heart like a shot.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing his temple again.

Yoongi’s face turns slightly into your lips, his hand squeezing over yours, “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I held onto my disappointment in him for a while until I realized something: the only reason my father every laid his hands on me and not Geum-jae hyung was because, I stood up to him.”

“Geum-jae hyung never did and, I think he still carries that regret to this day. I can see it all over his face...” His voice is so low now that it barely makes it above a whisper, his eyes seemingly elsewhere. “Is it wrong that I feel like- like I didn’t just come here to save Sejin’s studio?”

You shake your head, “Not at all...”

He swallows again and takes another deep breath through his nose, “It’s hard you know- during winter break especially; everyone would leave campus and go home for the holidays...and I never knew where to go. For the first two years at school, I spent Christmas alone until Namjoon’s mom finally called me and told me that if I didn’t come back with him, that she was going to make him sleep outside.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the memory.

Your heart fills with despair then. You didn’t piece it together that Yoongi would have stayed behind during the holiday season. There was so much to unpack from the tragedy that he’s endured; it didn’t even cross your mind.

“Namjoon’s mom was right to threaten you-” You affirm but then you shake your head, “I don’t think there could be a wrong reason to come here. You deserve to have whatever kind of closure or healing that you need.”

“I wish I knew what I needed...” He admits, licking his lips before turning towards you, his brown eyes holding all the emotions he can’t vocalize, “I wish everything was as easy as this.”

Following suit, you turn your head so that you’re facing him, “So do I. But I’ll always be here through all the not-so-easy stuff.”

Yoongi smiles then, soft and sweet, delivering a kiss to match. He relaxes into you, brushing his tongue along the inside of your lip just for a moment before pulling away.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Yoongi.”

Eventually, you both got out of the bathtub and into the shower so, that you were able to get clean properly. After a few hours of catching up on missed calls/texts and relaxing, Yoongi gets a text from his brother saying that dinner would be ready in 15 minutes.

Geum-jae had the finest BBQ in the city delivered and prepared right in his dining room. Banchan lined the center of the table, slabs of meat were grilled one right after the other until the three of you tapped out.

It passed easier than you thought it would. Yoongi and Geum-jae relaxed in the face of a meal, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them as if no time had passed. It was a touching sight to see and, you hoped that it meant their discussion would come out easier.

You take your leave after you help clean up, thanking Geum-jae for the incredible food and, letting Yoongi know that you’d be up in the room checking on something for school if he needed anything.

Which was a total lie but, you needed an excuse to leave them alone for a bit.

Yoongi feels his heartbeat pick up a bit as he watches you leave the room, the realization of what was coming finally hitting him.

“Hyung-” He wants to rip the band aid off. “Is it alright if we talk for a moment?”

Geum-jae raises his brows at the switch in languages and nods immediately, gesturing to the table, “Of course. Can we sit here? Or would you rather talk in the living room?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Here is fine.” He sits back down in his original seat and, rubs his palms against his jeans.

Geum-jae takes a seat across from him, gazing expectantly at his younger brother, “What did you want to talk about?”

Despite Yoongi’s anxiety, he understands that being to the point would be the most effective way to communicate. He wasn’t sure if any past issues would come up but, right now his concern was on Sejin.

“I know that I told you I needed your help with something but-” Yoongi begins, “It isn’t me who needs your help exactly...it’s Sejin.”

Geum-jae purses his lips, his hands coming out to clasp rest on the table, “Is he alright?”

“The landlord for the studio he runs is increasing his rent again and, he doesn’t have the money to keep it open...” Yoongi’s explanation gets a little rushed as he gets more and more nervous, “I have some money in savings to help out with rent for the next few months but, it’s not enough to keep it open long term and-”

Geum-jae cuts him off, “Tell Sejin to call me. I will send a team to his location to sort everything out. It wouldn’t be a bad building to purchase but if Sejin is willing- then maybe he can look at other properties and I’ll have the money wired over to him.”

Yoongi can’t hide the shock on his face, “Wait- are you serious?”

“Of course. Sejin is one of my dearest friends. I owe him a lot for what he’s done over the years.”

In this moment, regret washes over Geum-jae's face, his eyes reaching out to Yoongi’s in hopes that he understands what he’s alluding to.

And obviously, he does.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” Geum-jae continues, tilting his head to get a better look at Yoongi’s expression, trying to read him, “I’ve always told you that if you ever needed anything-”

“I haven’t talked to you in 8 years hyung, I wasn’t just going to call and ask you for a favor.”

Geum-jae nods, his face tightening with solemnity, “I understand.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of them before a sigh comes from Geum-jae, “There is so much I want to say to you Yoongi, I don’t even know where to begin...”

Yoongi stays quiet.

He doesn’t know either.

He just knows that the only way to get rid of the heaviness in his chest is to talk about it.

“I suppose I could start with an apology.” Geum-jae concludes, shaking his head as a light scoff leaves his lips, “I could never find the words to express how much regret and shame I feel inside. I could never explain how sorry I am for not protecting you, for not being a better example, for not having a backbone, for being selfish...I was blinded by greed. I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

Yoongi swallows back his emotion, dreading the way his eyes begin to sting.

Geum-jae continues, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I just want to apologize and tell you that, even though I played no part in the man you’ve become, I am incredibly honored to call you my brother.”

It isn’t easy but, Yoongi manages to contain the tears that desperately want to fall from his eyes. His chest tightens as he hears his brother’s words. He wades through all the bitterness he feels towards him, allowing himself to feel the full force of his approval.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” Yoongi swallows, avoiding direct eye contact with him, “I just wish I understood your actions. You were my hyung, I thought you would have protected me and-” Yoongi blinks away the tears as quickly as he can, “and I still haven’t been able to accept the fact that you didn’t...”

Geum-jae shakes his head, “I wanted to protect you. I just didn’t know how- I was scared of him too. You had more courage than I did. It doesn’t excuse my actions but, it’s the truth.”

Suddenly, he reaches out and places his hand overtop of Yoongi’s, a pleading expression on his face, “That’s why you got out. That’s why you have a life. You have friends, you’re about to graduate university and, you have Y/N...” Geum-jae's voice breaks at the end, “Because of your strength, you finally found happiness.”

Yoongi looks at his hand, observing the evidence of his life present on his skin. Scars, burns, callouses, needle marks...

“Are you saying that you haven’t?” He asks, still not meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I’m not even close.”

Finally, the two meet each other's gaze. For a moment, they just stare, glistening eyes to glistening eyes. Overcome with years of repressed emotions, fueled by the desperate need to try and break the cycle, they wordlessly convey an unspoken emptiness.

They have missed each other so much.

“I am here now.” Geum-jae promises, the first tear dangerously close to falling, “Hyung is here if you’ll have him. I want to be in your life but, I understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

Yoongi blinks now, and the tears land upon his cheeks, “You’re my hyung...” And it really is a desperate proclamation, “...you’ll always be my hyung...”

The chair screeches against the tile, causing Yoongi to jump in his seat until he realizes what his brother is doing. Rounding the table, stands to the side of Yoongi with open arms and his own tears atop his cheeks.

He eyes him for only a few seconds before standing up suddenly and accepting Geum-jae into his arms. The two of them seem to collapse against one another. Yoongi breaks down and sobs in the arms of his older brother.

Just as he would have when they were young.

When times were hard and he could take shelter behind the one person who made him feel safe, the first person who ever showed him love.

“I’m so sorry Yoongi-ah.”

His words cause Yoongi to squeeze his eyes shut as he nods against the expensive fabric of his brother’s dress shirt, “I know.” He sniffles and pats his back, “I know you are.”

Meanwhile...

You’ve been upstairs, straightening up the bedroom and trying to pass the time without worrying excessively about your boyfriend’s well-being.

Which turns out to be impossible...

Cleaning around the room/bathroom only takes you about 20 minutes before your flopping onto the massive bed and, pulling out your phone. Scrolling through Tik Tok, you hope for a substantial distraction and, lucky for you- one arrives.

But, it isn’t on Tik Tok...

Jungkook: So you know Jimin right...

The text from Jungkook confuses you as you’re pretty sure it's like the middle of the night back home and, it’s not like him to text you outside of the group chat.

You: I have heard of him yes

You: Isn’t he like your boyfriend or something?

Jungkook: ha ha

Jungkook: about that

Jungkook: what if he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore?

Your eyes widen and, you immediately sit up in bed and hover anxiously over your phone.

You: !!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Jungkook: shhhhhh don’t yell

Jungkook: my future fiance is sleeping...

You’re about ready to get on a flight back home to kick his ass before your vision focuses on the word he’s just sent.

You: excuse me

You: YOU’RE WHAT ???????????

Jungkook: …

Jungkook: What did I just tell you smh

You: *whispers* WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JUNGKOOK

Jungkook: -____-

Jungkook: can I call

You: ?????? Obviously!!!!

Seconds later, Jungkook’s name illuminates your screen.

“Good evening,” He begins calmly, “I’m having a panic attack...”

You giggle, “What’s going on????”

“Well you see- I am in love with Park Jimin and I fear it may be terminal.”

“Terminal huh? Is that how you describe a lifelong partnership with your one true love?”

“...yes.”

“Jungkook,” You urge him through your laughter, “What is going on?”

You hear him sigh, “I think I’m going to ask Jimin to marry me.”

Squealing, you jump up on your knees, “Wait seriously?! Jungkook!”

“Yah! Don’t yell at me! This is all your fault!”

“My fault??? How is this my fault?”

“Well technically I guess- it's Yoongi’s fault because, he’s the one that convinced me to get in touch with my feelings or whatever- either way, I am STILL the victim. And now I want to be with him forever and it’s disgusting...”

You flop back against the pillows and laugh again, “If Jimin knew this was how you were telling people you were proposing, he would kill you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, “He’s going to kill me either way Y/N...it’s bad- the other day, he sent me a selfie and, I had heart palpitations for like 15 minutes.”

“If your man doesn’t give you heart palpitations then, that isn’t your man.” You conclude.

“Y/N...” Jungkook whines now, sounding very much like the boy you met back in middle school.

“Jungkook...” You whine back causing him to finally chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I’m scared...”

“I know but, you and Jimin are so perfect for each other, there is no way that this wouldn’t work out.”

“More perfect than you and Yoongi?” He teases, reverting back to being a little shit.

And his question makes you scoff, “Oh sweetheart- obviously not. But second place isn’t bad!”

He laughs now and it’s the full bellied sound that you love hearing.

“You really think we’re perfect together?”

Despite his inability to see you, you smile at his need for validation,

“Duh. You two are literally soulmates.”

Jungkook is quiet on the other line but when he speaks again, you can hear the giddiness in his voice, “Ok so...will you help me then???”

Back downstairs, Yoongi and Geum-jae are sat at the bar in front of the window that faces his backyard. As he predicted, the rain came back in full force and is now propelling itself against the clean glass. After their emotional encounter in the dining room, Geum-jae suggested that they have a drink together and relax for a moment.

He had poured each of them a glass of wine, ensuring not to fill his glass up too much.

“Your girlfriend is a wonderful woman; you made a good choice.”

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s lips twitch, his eyes watching the droplets of water chaotically race down the window, “Thank you. But, it was her who chose me, I’m still working out exactly why.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “I see you’re still selling yourself short ah? Did you two meet at school?”

Yoongi smirks, “Yeah, we met 6 months ago in my psychology class. She was my partner on our final project.”

“Ah.” He nods, “Things blossomed that way then?”

Yoongi’s heart throbs a bit as his brain begins its recollection of his time with you.

So much has happened during your relationship, he forgets that he hasn’t known you all his life.

It certainly feels like he has.

“Yeah.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “You’re so reserved about her.”

Yoongi knows what he means. In the Min family, you always say things as they are. You don’t sugarcoat your sentiments and you definitely don’t play coy.

“I can’t help it-” He admits, and he can feel the heat on his cheeks now, “I find it difficult to talk about her...”

His brother bites his bottom lip, unable to help how endeared he is, “Can I ask why?”

Yoongi leans his cheek against the palm of his hand, still focusing on the rain, “It’s overwhelming.”

Geum-jae seems to understand but he chuckles anyway, “Do you plan on marrying her?”

His question hangs in the air for a moment. Yoongi’s brain once again travels elsewhere, and he is bombarded with images of you walking down the aisle. He has to take a deep breath as he forces the thoughts out of his head; he’s cried enough this evening.

“I would marry her tomorrow.”

Geum-jae's laughter increases now but now it bubbles over his lips in an excited fashion.

“Yahhhh! Look at that eh?” He congratulates him, “It’s safe to say you’re off the market for good then? Because I have a few of my friends who have been asking about you.”

This finally makes Yoongi laugh as he turns towards him, “That’s flattering.” He means it too but, he speaks the next set of words with all of the conviction he can muster, “There is no one else for me though.”

Geum-jae grins proudly and with a raise to his brows, he lifts his glass, “Well, let’s drink to that then.”

The clinking of crystal signifies so much. For now though, Yoongi allows it to represent the future and, all of the possibilities it may bring.

#ficswithluv #yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi fics #yoongi fanfics #yoongi fic recs #yoongi fanfiction #bts yoongi #min yoongi #suga #min suga #agust d #agust d fics #yoongi x reader #boyfriend! yoongi #yoongi cute #yoongi hot

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auburnaudry · 3 years

Text

Fractured Family - Matthew Tkachuk

Chapter 5:

A/N: So this took me a while to write because changing the main character to Matthew, after I had already written so much for Jake, threw me off a little and I really had to visualize what Matt would be like in this role! As always, feedback/suggestions are always welcome! If you have any questions about the story or on how different scenarios are handled in their relationship, feel free to ask! And just a side note, this Gif is Matthew’s best look and if you don’t agree...... you have no taste (respectfully).

<—Previous Chapter Next Chapter—>

Summary: You go on your date with Matt and talk about the past! Sorry this is a shit summery lol

Word count: 4913 words

“Hellooooo earth to y/n/n” Kaylee was snapping her finger at you, trying to get your attention from across the couch.

Kaylee was over to hangout and then help you get ready for your date later on in the day, a date that you were extremely nervous for.

“Sorry I zoned out” you apologized, you hadn’t heard one word of the story she was trying to tell you, something about the new guy she was talking to. You felt horrible but you couldn’t get your mind to stop overthinking everything.

“Yeah I know, what’s going on in that crazy brain of yours?” Her tone was half joking, half concerned. You had been spacey all day and it was finally starting to show.

“It’s nothing” you waved it off, but everybody knows when a girls says ‘it’s nothing’, it is most definitely not nothing and its probably weighing heavy on her conscience.

“Come onnnn your not fooling anyone. Are you nervous for your date tonight with your boy-toy?” She joked to try and lighten the mood, but when she saw that your expression hadn’t softened she quickly became more serious. “Y/n, whats going on? Talk to me.” She pleaded, pulling her legs up onto the couch so she could sit crisscross, leaning forward slightly to prepare for you response.

You let out a small sigh “I just can’t stop thinking about Matt and questioning his intentions.” You looked down at your hands as you played with the strings on your sweat pants.

“What’d you mean?”

“I know that this is what I’ve been praying and hoping for for the last 9 months but I just can’t help thinking he is only doing this because we have a child together. Like he doesn’t actually love me, he just feels obligated to try things again. Or maybe I’m just his rebound from Lexi since I’m an easy option.” So many possibilities were running through your head.

The only possibility you wouldn’t consider was that of him still being in love with you. The reason you didn’t even want to think about it was because if you did think about it, you might start to believe it and if you started to believe it, you might get hurt again. The last thing you wanted was to complicate your relationship further. What you had going was good, it worked. Your son was happy and well taken care of and you could easily coexist with Matthew. But if he ever hurt you again, you weren’t sure you could ever go back.

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nodded in response to Kaylee’s question, but even if you responded with no, she was gonna tell you anyway. “I think that psyching yourself out over questions you can’t answer is silly. You need to go into the date tonight with an open mind, pretend you just met him and your giving him a chances.”

“I can’t pretend to not know him, I can’t just ignore the past.”

“I know, and it’s gonna be difficult, but try. It might help to not center your conversations around Reign, focus on yourselves and getting to know each other again.”

“But I don’t know what else to talk about with him, that’s literally the only thing we have in common anymore.” you knew Kaylee was right but you were just in a mood were you felt like being difficult.

“I know for a fact that’s not true.” She shook her head not taking any of your B.S. “What did you two talk about when you were together before Reign.” she had a motherly tone about her, trying to help you see past your own stubbornness.

“That’s a good question.” You thought for a second “I honestly can’t remember, but I do know we laughed a lot.” you smiled to yourself thinking back to the good times you shared with Matt.

“Exactly! I’m sure tonight will be no different, just be yourself and it will come naturally.” You were about to argue again but she continued. “ and if it helps ease your mind at all, I know he is still in love with you and really wants this to work.”

“I hope so” you half whispered. You quickly changed the subject so you could stop worrying yourself with questions of the unknown.

You weren’t sure where the time had gone, but it was already 4:30 when you looked at the clock next, and you had to start getting ready for your date. Kaylee did your hair while you worked on your makeup, it was a perfect system. You went with a pretty natural look since you typically only wore mascara and concealer while Kaylee did your hair in perfect beach waves.

By 5:45 you were rushing to change into an outfit since you were a little behind. You put on black jeans with a black body suit. You picked out simple open toed heals and put you Hermès belt on to finish the look. It was simple but still dressy enough for dinner.

As soon as you put the last gold hoop in you ear there was a knocking at the door.

“I’ll get it, take you time!” Kaylee smiled as she hurried out of your room to answer the door.

You could hear, what you could only describe as baby talk, coming from the front of your apartment and you froze thinking Matt had either forgotten about your date and was just coming to drop off Reign or he couldn’t find a sitter and your date was canceled.

You tried not to look too defeated as you made you way into the living room where you heard your baby’s giggles and Matt’s voice.

When you walked into the room, you went unnoticed for a few seconds, so you just observed. Kaylee was playing with Reign on the floor and Matt was standing by the couch watching them play. He was dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, holding a bouquet of you favorite flowers in his hand. Finally you cleared your throat to make them aware of your presence and Matt quickly turned.

“Hi” he smirked as he looked you over. For a man of so many words he was, for once, at a loss.

“Hey” you smiled back playfully.

“You look beautiful.” He walked towards you giving you a hug and kiss on the cheek as he held the flowers out to the side, careful not to crush them. “These are obviously for you.” He said handing you the flowers as he pulled away from the hug.

“Thank you they’re Beautiful, you know me so well.” And with that small statement his face turned bright red. Even after everything, he still remembered this little detail about you, it was impressive!

You walked to place the flowers in the vase sitting on your kitchen Island. You looked out into the living room when you heard Reigns little cries and were reminded of his presence.

“I’m guessing you couldn’t handle all the logistics since you couldn’t find anyone to watch him?” You said, mocking Matt’s statement from the day before as you nodded towards the baby and looked back at Matt.

“What do you mean? I did find someone.” He looked fake hurt at your lack of faith in him. “Kaylee’s going to watch him for the night.”

“Ohhhh” you now understood, feeling kind of stupid for not putting two and two together. “My brain is just not working properly today I’m sorry” you looked down at your hands.

“I can tell, what’s on your mind?” He reached out to grab your hand, pulling you closer and wrapping and arm around you waist while the other one was leaning on the island. You put you hand on his chest as you looked up at him. It all felt so familiar and comfortable but at the same time uncomfortable. You didn’t want to get your hopes up just to have your heart crushed again.

“All stuff we can talk about at dinner.” You said stepping away from his touch “let me just say bye to Kaylee and Reign then we can go.” You walked into the living room with Matt following closely behind.

You picked up Reign and gave him a bunch of kisses. Fake bitting his cheeks as you told him how much you loved him. Out of the corner of you eye you caught Matt staring, smiling bigger than you’ve seen in a while. The sight of you with Reign always seemed to make his heart skip, and he hadn’t seen much of it in a while.

After thanking Kaylee for watching Reign, you and Matt made your way out to his car. Once you got close he picked up his pace to open you car door for you before you got there. He was being a gentlemen tonight but it made you even more worried. Worried that it wasn’t sincere and he was just doing this for a quick fuck.

Nevertheless, you climbed into his car and proper your elbow up on the center console, leaning closer to the driver seat. It was a force of habit, something you only did with Matt when you two were still together. When you first started dating and he would pick you up, he would always make the comment ‘you’re too far away’ when you sat normally in the passenger seat. So on every short drive you leaned over the center console to be close to him.

But when he climbed into the driver seat you felt too close to him, so you sat back in the seat normally. If you hadn’t been looking at his reflection in the black screen of the navigation system, you would have never seen the way his face fell at your actions. But you kept quiet pretending not to notice so the date wouldn’t become awkward.

Any fear you had beforehand about going on this date quickly faded as you and Matt fell into easy conversation. You caught up on each others live because even though you still spoke often due to the fact that you had a child together, conversation only revolved around Reign. It was nice to talk about something other than parenting.

You pulled up to the restaurant Matt decided to take you to and you felt a knot in you stomach. When you and Matt broke up, it was a few weeks before his birthday. A few days before the fight, you had made reservations at this very restaurant for his birthday. He had been talking about how bad he wanted to try it out and you wanted to surprise him, but you obviously never made it there together.

“Uh oh, what happened what’s wrong.” Matt saw your face and automatically became panicked.

“Nothing nothing, just brought back a memory.” You gave him a tight smile to try and let him know everything was okay.

“The restaurant?” He questioned.

“Yeah, but it’s really not a big deal, it’s barely a memory.” You gave a slight giggle to let him know you were fine with eating there, cause you really were.

Your convincing must have been good enough because Matt hopped out of the car and made his way around to the passenger side. You slightly opened the door before he got there so he shut it on you just to open it again himself. He chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

He grabbed your hand to help you out of the car and you made you way towards the restaurant.

“So what was the memory.” He asked thinking that you were going to tell a story about a date gone wrong with another man or something since he had no memory of being there with you.

“Just before we broke up, I planned a surprise dinner here for your birthday with our-... uh your close friends.” You looked over and saw the frown on his face “you wouldn’t stop going on and on about how your teammates said this was THE BEST place to eat and we just hadddd to go.” You giggled trying to lighten the mood.

He gave you a smile back and you just hoped that you didn’t ruin the mood of the night. Talking back on your relationship was still a little hard since it was still kind of freshish and you guys were trying to work on things. So any mention of a bad memory made Matt tense up, out of fear that too much damage had already been done.

Thankfully your anecdote didn’t kill the mood and when you made it to the table, conversation flowed as normal.

After telling the waitress your food order, you were left with a lot of free time to talk about the past, present and future.

“Can I ask you something?” you started, looking down at your fingers, playing with them in you lap.

“Anything” Matt quickly responded.

“You said you realized during my pregnancy that you made a mistake and wanted to get back together, why didn’t you ever say anything?” You looked up at him ready for an answer.

He let out a sigh “Well uh ..... I really don’t know. I thought you would see, by everything I was doing and how involved I was, that I wanted you back and it would just happen naturally.” Now he was the one looking down at his fingers “and honestly I thought we were on the way to getting back together, and then the gender reveal party happened, everything was so good, until it wasn’t.” He looked back up at you staring into your eyes. “We kissed and it was perfect, I thought ‘wow I got my girl back’ and then you walked away, basically avoiding me the rest of the day.”

“I did not” you cut him off.

“No you most certainly did, and then everyday after that when we would see each other, you made it very clear that you didn’t want anything further than a co-parenting relationship.”

“I didn’t mean to be like that y’know.” You started “I just thought you kissed me by mistake, that you were caught up in the moment and didn’t realize what you were doing. Then after that I wanted to make sure things didn’t become awkward. I didn’t want you to think that I took the kiss the wrong way and expected more from you.”

“You always overthink way to much babe.” Your heart swelled at the pet name. “I promise you I’m not that complicated, you will always know how I feel about you, you definitely don’t have to second guess everything.”

“I know- I mean I did know that when we were together, but the breakup caught me so off guard I didn’t know what to think anymore.” You were trying not to become too emotional.

The waitress brought out your appetizers before you continued your conversation.

“That was so fucking stupid of me.” He stated after putting some of the calamari on his plate. You just looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I was so fucking in love with you and I threw it all away because I was scared to live together.”

“Why were you so scared?” You wanted answers at this point.

“Because I brought it up with some of the younger guys on the team when you were dropping hints to me about moving in together the weeks before, they are dumb and immature and got into my head.” He was clearly sorry he asked young idiots for advice “then I made the dumbest decision of my life and I’m still paying the price till this day.”

“I wish you would have told me all of this sooner.” You stated bluntly.

“Why? Cause I don’t have a shot anymore?” His body tensed with worry.

“I’m not saying that, I wouldn’t have agreed to a date if you didn’t have a shot” you reassured him. “I’m just saying you would have saved both of us a lot of heart ache if you mentioned all this sooner.”

“I know, I’m sorry, if i could go back in time and do it again I would change everything...” he kinda got lost in thought, thinking about what could have happened if he never broke things off.

“Can I ask you another questions?”

“Y/n/n, just ask the question” he was half joking but also half telling you to stop prefacing your questions with ‘can I ask you a question’.

“Is it too soon to be going on a date after everything with Lexi?” You sheepishly asked.

“If your asking me if you are a rebound, the answer is most definitely no. If anything she was a distraction from you, or at least that what she was suppose to be” he took a breathe and debated telling you the next part. “anytime I was with her I was always comparing her to you, always thinking ‘if y/n was here she wouldn’t be complaining she would actually enjoy the time spent together’” you would be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel a little bit better. But he quickly changed the subject, clearly not wanting to talk about his ex with you. “Have you seen anyone since we broke up.” He asked and you jokingly glared at him.

“Oh yeah definitely, so many guys knocking down my door” You sarcastically responded. “Matthew, nobody wants to get with a pregnant girl.”

“You’d be surprised how many guys are into that” he chuckled. “And not to mention you’re a total MILF” He lighted the mood from the heavy topic you just covered!

“Are you flirting with me Matthew Tkachuk?” You jokingly question.

“Always.” You two continue more casual conversation as you finished your appetizer and were served your main course. You guys laughed and laughed as you ate your meal, something you had been missing with everyone else in your life, that only he could do.

“I haven’t seen your family in a while, how are they.” You later asked. Matt had just finished his plate of food and was now picking at the last bit of mashed potatoes and steak on your plate that you weren’t going to eat.

“Good.” He placed his fork down and looked up at you. “They really miss you y’know”

“I miss them too.” you had become extremely close to Matt family in the years you dated. Matt’s parents treated you as if you were their own daughter and you had a strong bond with Chantal.

“My mom always asks if you want to join whenever they come to spend time with me and Reign.” He picked up the fork and started picking again.

“Well maybe next time, I really would love to see them.”

“They would love that.” He paused a quick second “and I mean, I wouldn’t mind it either.” He gave you another one of his smirks.

After he paid the bill, you made the short walk back to the car. On the walk you felt Matt’s hand brush against yours and you thought he was going to grab it, but he didn’t want to push his luck, so he refrained.

He again opened you door when you made it to the car and helped you in. When he got settle into the drivers seat he glance at you.

“You’re too far away.” He sheepishly said as he stared ahead, starting the car. You once again leaned on the center console this time more comfortable with the action since he asked. You felt butterflies in your stomach.

10 minutes later you pulled up to your favorite ice cream shop. You looked over at Matt and smiled.

“You really do know how to win a girl over Matthew Tkachuk.” And at that, he smiled right back at you.

After getting your ice cream, you two sat on a bench and enjoyed each others company. It was such a good night and date, that you didn’t want it to end. But of course, all things come to an end.

“I should probably get you home.” Matt look up at you after finishing his ice cream. You were shivering without a jacket on.

“Yeah It’s getting pretty cold.” You responded as you both got up from the bench and made your way back to his car.

When you climbed in the car, you leaned on the center console again and Matt grabbed your hand once he put the car into drive. The ride back to your apartment was comfortably quiet. You were finally starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, this was actually going to work out.

You prepared for him to just drop you off at your apartment when you pulled up but he made his way into the parking garage and you knew he was going to walk you all the way up to your door. You both got out and made your way to the elevator, hand in hand.

You still had many difficult conversation that needed to be had about your relationship but those were sent to the back burner for the time being. You were happy you got to enjoy each other’s company and not worry about what was next or what was going to happen with your current setup. You got to act like a real couple, going out on a nice date.

You made it to you door and expected to say your goodbyes, but Matt asked if he could come in for a little. You, of course, were not ready to end the date just yet so you agreed.

As you walked through the front door you spotted Kaylee, sitting on the couch watching a movie. As soon as she was aware of you presence she got up and made her way over to you. Then a look of shock washed over her face as she saw Matt walk in behind you.

“I’m assuming the date went well then.” She giggled. You looked toward Matt and smiled shyly. He nodded in response to her.

“Okay well I’ll leave you love birds to it. Reign was really good, I just put him to sleep so he should be out for a little while.” She said as she packed up her things.

“Thanks for watching him Kay, we really appreciate it.” Matt responded before you had the chance to.

You hugged Kaylee on her way out and she whispered “I can’t wait to hear every single detail tomorrow.” Just loud enough for you to hear. You just chuckled and nodded closing the front door behind her.

When you turned around, you found Matt sitting on the couch, patting the spot next to him and motioning for you to join him. You took your shoes off and made you way over to him.

“You want to watch a movie or something.” He asked, you nodded in response as you picked up the remote from the coffee table and handed it to him. You sat down next to him but not so close that you were touching.

Matt scrolled through Netflix and Hulu giving you options to watch! You settled on 50 first dates since it’s one of your favorites. After pressing play, Matt stood up to turn all the lights off. He still remembered that lights on while watching a movie was one of your pet peeves. It’s not like it was all that long ago that you dated, you just always thought he never cared enough about the little things. Tonight he was proving you all wrong but in the best way possible.

When he returned to the couch he pulled you with him to lay down, so you two were cuddling on the couch. Your bodies fit perfectly together and you wondered why you two ever broke up in the first place.

As the movie went on, you started to feel Matt’s hands roam your body. It wasn’t in a way that made you uncomfortable and it wasn’t sexually charged either. He was simply getting reacquainted with your body. But at some point when you looked away from the TV and up at Matthew he leaned in and kissed you.

You were in the middle of a firey make out session when you were interrupted by the cries of your baby. You both groaned and pulled away. You quickly hopped off the couch and made you way to Reigns room, picking him up out of his crib and hurrying back to the living room.

Everything felt so domestic that when you got back, you sat down on the couch and started breast feeding in front of Matt. You wouldn’t have given it a second thought until you saw the expression on his face and you remembered that he had never seen you do that before.

You continued to feed Reign but moved you shirt so you weren’t as exposed and adjusted you body so you were slightly turned away from him. You were a little embarrassed, since you could have just done it in the nursery, now regretting your decision to come out into the living room.

“You can- uh- play the movie.” You looked over at Matt, he was still staring but you couldn’t really read his expression. You hoped he wasn’t judging you. He nodded and turned away, proceeding to play the movie.

When Reign was done feeding and you got him to burp, you quietly made you way back to his room, where you placed him back down in the crib.

When you came back to the living room, Matt once again pulled you down on top of his body, hugging you tight.

“Your an amazing mom y/n/n” he whispered as his face pressed against the side of yours. You turned your head and leaned in to kiss him.

“And your a great dad” you said against his lips. The kissing quickly turned heated again and his hands were roaming you body for a second time that night, but this time with sexual intent behind it.

Matt flipped you both over so he was on top and pulled down the top of you shirt to give him access to explore you chest. As he started trailed kisses down your body, his left hand was trying find the button on you jeans. He eventually gave up and started to slip he hand into you pants but you quickly grab his wrist, placing his hand back on your hip. He kissed back up you body but stopped when he made it to your face.

“You okay?” He whispered, clearly concerned.

“Uh yeah yeah-”you trail off “I just don’t want to rush anything.” He nodded in understanding.

“Of course, I don’t want to do anything your not comfortable with or ready for.” You smiled and he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your lips, bringing the mood back down to a comfortable cuddle. You settle back down into a spooning position and he rubbed his thumb across your stomach as his hand rested there, leaving kisses on the back of your neck every so often.

The movie ended but you continued to sit in your same position while the credits rolled. After a few mins you started to doze off, but you were brought back to reality when Matt spoke.

“I should probably get going or else I’m going to fall asleep here.” You both worked to sit up and get off the couch. You waited for him to get his keys and wallet together and put his shoes back on before speaking.

“Thank you for tonight, I had a really good time.” You made direct eye contact with his baby blues.

“So does that mean I get to take you out again?” He questioned in a playful manner.

“I’ll think about it.” You joked back and walked to give him a hug.

“Don’t think too hard.”

As you pulled away from the hug Matt leaned in and your lips connected. Once you pulled away, Matt rested his forehead against yours.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” He questioned

You hummed in response “and can you please text me when you make it home?” Something you always asked people you cared deeply about. This time he hummed in response.

“Goodnight y/n.”

“Goodnight Matty.” And with that you closed the door behind him. You leaned you back against the door and slide down until you we sitting on the ground, a huge smile stuck on your face. The night couldn’t have gone any better. You were happy but still scared, scared that if you let you walls down too soon, he would just end up breaking you again.

You made your way to your bedroom and went through your nightly routine. You quickly changed into sweats and an over size t-shirt and tucked yourself into bed. You scrolled through Instagram for a few mins before you got a notification on you phone.

Matty:

Just got home.

Y/n/n:

Ahhh for once he actually texts me 😲

Matty:

What can I say.... I’m a changed man

But on a serious note thank you for giving me this chance tonight. I know it gonna take more than just one date to get you to take me back but I hope this was a good start.

Y/n/n:

I want us to work Matt and I can tell you trying! Thx for the wonderful date <3

Matty:

Goodnight babe ❤️

Y/n/n:

Nighty night Matty <3

Vibes from dates night:

#Matthew Tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #calgary flames

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azucanela · 3 years

Text

chapter iii

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

warnings: cursing. mentions of violence. mild violence.

word count: 2k

summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.

series masterlist

MAYBE SHE WAS OVERCOMPENSATING, but at least overall productivity of the agency was up. If Y/N was honest, throwing herself into her work probably wasn’t her best idea, in fact one might consider it self destructive. But.. she was frustrated. And the pent of emotions of not only herself but those around her had to go somewhere.

And what better place to put that energy than her work?

Of course, as she slams a villain into the wall of concrete before bringing their hands together and handcuffing them, all Y/N feels is boredom. Dissatisfied, unfulfilled. Although it had taken her a while to separate her own emotions from that of others when she was younger, it doesn’t take much effort to determine that those feelings are entirely her own.

In a job like hers, boredom was something to be grateful for, something to welcome with open arms all things considered. And busy season would be coming up for heroes, so Y/N probably should be grateful for the lack of activity. And yet… The calm before the storm was always rather unnerving.

Y/N can hear the sirens of the police, brows furrowing as she sighs. Dragging the man she had just apprehended along with her despite his grunts of protest. Y/N watches as a police car pulls around by the entrance of the alley she’d cornered him in.

He was just a petty thief, but Y/N had been trying to keep out of the spotlight for the time being, unless her assistance was warranted. And thus far, it hadn’t been.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N watches as an officer exits the car, a smile coming across their face as they see her. “Hey Empatha!” They wave, and Y/N can’t help but offer a small smile and wave of her own back as she hands the criminal over to them.

“Hi, everything alright at the precinct?” It’s meant to be a polite, simple question, but Y/N can practically— literally— feel the way the officer lights up at the question. As though they’d been meaning to bring it up. Y/N had interacted with most of the Police Department briefly, so they weren’t entirely unfamiliar but… that didn’t mean Y/N wanted to stick around for long.

They shrug, pushing the thief into the back of the car despite his protests and shutting the door on him. “We had some plumbing troubles earlier— or something like that I don’t know… but yeah. Everything has been good. Kinda.”

Unsureness is bleeding into their tone, so Y/N raises a brow as she finds herself asking, “something on your mind?”

The officer offers Y/N a sheepish smile, “we could really use your help on one of our cases, the Stain Copycat, I assume you’ve heard?”

Nodding slowly, Y/N finds herself wanting to exit this conversation, and soon, “I can look into sending someone from the Agency but it’s Hawks’ choice.” She looks around with a frown, “I have a feeling the press will be here soon so I should get going, but I’ll be in contact.” She says with a smile, taking a step back before disappearing into the shadows.

Telen’s ability. Y/N borrowed it frequently, and from the soreness of her body, Y/N had a feeling that they’d had quite the day as well. He was capable of teleporting through shadows, light was a major inhibitor but it was an incredibly useful ability and had saved her life a countless number of times. Whether that was literally or from… conversations like that one.

Y/N had been avoiding Endeavor’s agency since far too many of her old classmates were sidekicks there. As much as she wanted to help, her presence wasn’t necessary. And she had heard about the Stain Copycat case, the one who had yet to be caught, the exception. Hawks had mentioned it during one of their calls recently, so technically she wasn’t lying when she said someone would be sent over to help.

Just not her. Anyone but her.

With a sigh, Y/N finally appears in the locker room of the agency. Welcoming the smell of blood, sweat, and probably tears.

It had been a long day, and Y/N quickly decided there was no better way to amend that than with coffee. She’s changing into her civilian clothes— having ended her shift at the agency for the day— inside the locker room dedicated to such things. Patrol had been mostly quiet today, which she was grateful for, but that didn’t make her any less suspicious as to why things had been so quiet.

Y/N makes her way out of the locker room once she’s changed, and through the agency, offering a smile to Telen as she finally steps out of the agency doors. “You alright today? I can feel the soreness.” She says, walking backwards as she speaks to him, while he holds the door open for the both of them.

Telen offers her a smile, “yes. It appears I took quite the hit.” He brings a hand to the back of his neck, “not the best day.”

Y/N raises a brow, “wanna come with me? I’m gonna get a drink, maybe something to eat at the café a few blocks from here.” She’d always enjoyed Telen’s presence, he was calm, quiet, but good company nonetheless. Someone who listened, but could certainly maintain a conversation. They’d been working together for a few years now and Y/N had grown to like him. That and she would be returning later regardless seeing as Lorelai had requested a coffee herself.

Telen shakes his head, “I still have one more patrol, but if I happen to come around there, I might stop by.”

She nods, raising her hand to wave to him as one final goodbye before turning on her heel, and almost instantly a rush of wind is hitting her, though she finds it refreshing as she stares to the sky, a grey color, clouds shielding the sun from view.

It’s a nice day, she decides, looking to her left. Hawks had placed his agency rather strategically, and by strategically, that meant nearby a café she had been going to for longer than she could remember. Y/N was close friends with the owner now, and many of the employees there. So her presence wasn’t anything astonishing, though Y/N had offered time and time again to advertise their business, they’d always declined. The owner had insisted it was nice being a small business, rather than one swarming with customers.

Y/N had made the shop her safe space, most of the time, those who recognized her seemed to understand her desire to be left alone. And it was relieving, to be normal for a moment. Not to say that she was special or anything, but life as a hero was… an overwhelming one. She’d been lucky to evade the press earlier.

It doesn’t take long to arrive, a short walk is all it takes before Y/N is opening the door to enter the small shop. Almost instantly, she’s greeted with a bag of chips to the face, having been thrown by a grinning Lily, one of the longtime employees that Y/N had known for years now. “Hey superstar.”

In response Y/N groans, moving to cover her face in the scarf she’d worn and bury her face inside it, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “Shut up, Lily.” Her eyes drift around, “where’s everyone else?”

Lily shrugs, already moving to make Y/N’s usual as she replies, “we’re a bit short staffed today.” She looks to Y/N, “we haven’t seen you in a while. Been too busy for us, have you?” Her words are teasing, but Y/N finds herself feeling bad for not visiting more often. Her schedules become more busy as the time for announcing the top heroes draws near, more meetings, more events, more press conferences. And with her little scandal with Bakugou, she would likely have to give up even more of her time.

“Never.” Y/N finally replies, moving to stand at the counter and placing her bag of chips there. Y/N pulls out her wallet.

Lily waves her off, “on the house.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I make a ridiculous amount of money, let me spend it.” She says, pulling out a few $20 bills, though Lily simply looks to her pointedly. This only encourages Y/N, causing her to keep eye contact with her as she drops all of the bills into the tip jar. “Split it with the rest of the staff.”

It's true, Y/N’s salary was… more than enough. Hawks had never been frugal with his money, his employees were well off and she was grateful for it but at this point she had more money than she knew what to do with. She was no Number 2 Hero but her bank account spoke for itself.

Despite this, Lily glares in response, before sliding a drink over to Y/N. “Regardless, how have you been, aside from getting black out drunk at a very important Gala and then proceeding to talk shit about—”

“I doubt she wants to talk about that Lily,” The bell by the door rings, signaling that someone has arrived, and of course, there stands Rosalyn, another one of the employees. Her hair is greying now, but she still bares the same smile and calming persona that she did when Y/N first met her. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was bad.”

Y/N is grinning as she walks over to Rosalyn, throwing her arms around her as the pair hugs, “good to see you Ros.” Lily pretends to roll her eyes at the sigh of physical affection, though she smiles at the sight of the reunion, before heading through the door behind the counter.

When they pull away, Rosalyn pats Y/N’s head with a smile, “and you! It’s been a while, look how you’ve grown.”

Y/N’s brows furrow as a small laugh escapes her, “I doubt I’ve grown any.” If she’s honest, Rosalyn and Lily hadn’t changed at all. Y/N wondered if they viewed her the same as they used to after all these years as well. And maybe she was scared of the answer, and that’s why she never asked. She could see it, Y/N doesn’t necessarily know or remember when, but she can recall the first time she noticed that they looked at her differently.

Things had changed at one point, and maybe Y/N’s visit to the coffee shop was just her attempt at holding onto the past. A past where she was happier, where things were simpler.

Moving to remove her jacket, Rosalyn shrugs, “perhaps I’ve shrunk. Happens with old age I suppose.” The woman heads over to the small entrance that leads to behind the counter, which also happens to have a door to the backroom. “I’ll be back shortly,” she says. Offering Y/N a smile that she quickly returns before heading into the backroom.

Y/N nods, taking the chips and her drink to one of many tables by the window and placing them down there to save her spot— though the shop is currently empty, she has no doubt that the busier hours will start soon. Regardless, Y/N comes to a stand to move to the display window filled with different pastries. Their new selection is certainly interesting, the sight makes her miss baking. Not that she has the time nowadays.

With a sigh, Y/N straightens her posture, when the bell rings, indicating that someone has entered. Turning Around. Y/N’s eyes widen as her mouth gapes open due to the sight of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.

note: shorter chapter but i hope it was worth it hehehehehehe

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mesozoic-system · 3 years

Text

Bakugou Katsuki is not as bad as he seems.

Okay, fine. That's a lie. Bakugou is a loud and obnoxious asshole with little to no character development and will snap at anyone who breathes on him the wrong way.

Now that that's out of the way, let's move on to why he's like that.

You all know what PTSD is, yeah? If not, it stands for "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder". It's something that causes panic attacks, unnecessary aggression, trust issues, nightmares, anxiety, depression, and more. People will develop it after a traumatic experience. It takes years of therapy to recover... actually, most people never recover from it.

Fun fact: Katsuki canonically has PTSD. It's confirmed, and you know what? After everything he's been through, it's not much of a surprise. He's been through one tragedy after another and never seems to get a break.

When we first met Bakugou Mitsuki (Katsuki's mother) in chapter #96, we instantly realized how aggressive she was. I mean come on! She talked smack right in front of him and his teachers- in front of All Might who she knew her son was very fond of. Katsuki may be irritable, but to have your own mother backhand you in front of your own role model is a little much.

Later on in chapter #165 during the Provisual License Exams, we get a little more information that only points towards more abuse- and this time it's not so verbal.

Most people paid no real attention nor gave it a second thought in these panels, but remember when Katsuki suggested to use violence against the kids? Of course, you'd look at it and wave it off as "normal Bakugou behavior", but what he says next took me by surprise:

That's right. He was raised that way.

Which means either Mitsuki or Masaru (or both) had struck him in some way multiple times as he was growing up, and I doubt it was Masaru.

"Spoiled" my ass. He might have a strong quirk, but people don't turn into little monsters just by being praised. It'll definely boost his confidence, but not dramatically. This could also explain his aggression toward Midoriya. He realized how helpless he was and had power over someone else for once. But that's just a theory.

Okay, let's fast forward a bit. He's finishing up his third year of Middle School and is preparing for the UA entrance exams. He's pushed away his childhood friend to follow his own dreams and tells him to jump off the roof.

Literally.

And then he walks out the door only to regret it much, much, muuuch later in the series- y'know. The "character development" I was talking about.

Next time we see him though, he gets what he deserves.

One panel he's tramping through an alley with his friends, and the next, he's being swallowed alive by the most perverted-looking slime monster I've ever laid my eyes on.

While Izuku's dreams are being crushed by his own hero, Katsuki is fighting for his life in the middle of town. He's struggling, but all he could do was look back at all the dozens of fearful eyes...

Right there. Right now. Look at him:

He's terrified. He's humiliated and afraid and hurt and despite all of the heroes that were there, none of them had even attempted to save him.

And this is where it really starts. This is where it all begins. Next thing we know, Izuku's running straight for him... The boy Katsuki's bullied almost all of his life is risking his own in order to save him.

You know the story from there; All Might trains Izuku to withhold his power, they get accepted into UA, and then comes the Sports Festival.

Katsuki's already made up his mind: he's gonna win. He's willing to give everything he has to show the country what he's made of, and this may be his only chance to make up for the mishap several months ago. And Monoma, being a professional at making things worse by opening his mouth, rubs salt in the wound.

It was pretty easy to predict Katsuki's reaction: pissed off and more than ready to prove him wrong. He does, but it cost him his "first place" during the Calvary Battle. But that's okay 'cuz it's not over yet!

Welcome to the next and last stage of the festival: The Battle Tournament, where all the kids get to beat the shit out of each other until only one remains.

Turns out, Katsuki does win. It was a foolproof plan: get Todoroki to go all out on him so he can make a final impression before the end of the day. But it was obvious that Shouto was still unsure of himself, so Katsuki did what he did best:

He had to piss him off.

But instead of getting angry and bursting into flames like he had planned, Shouto threw away the battle at the last second, and everything Katsuki had worked for with it.

No shit he's gonna be upset! He worked his ass off to get where he was, and the whole point was to leave himself a footprint! His entire life had been dedicated to that moment, and it faded away right in front of him.

Midnight put him to sleep and he woke up and threw a temper tantrum.

Now this is was UA did wrong:

Why would you do that?! They were all aware of what happened to him only a few months ago, he obviously hasn't properly recovered from it, and they restrain him in front of thousands of people. They cover his mouth and gag him, lock his hands in a tiny metal box and expect him not to go insane. Helloooo?! Wake up! He's just a kid!

Several months go by and now it's time for camp. Katsuki is tired. They all are. It's been a long day of training and training and training, and suddenly villains come out of nowhere, and nobody is prepared. And who shows up? The League of Villains, and they're after certain students...

Tokoyami escapes safely, but Katsuki isn't so lucky.

Just think about that for a second. When we see Shigaraki holding a picture of him, it's the one where UA tied him up. He knows what this child has gone through and he pities him. To be honest, I think the LoV treated him much better than anyone ever has (except maybe Kirishima). They're hesitant, but they treat him with kindness. They didn't just want him for his quirk. They saw what the heroes did to him and wanted to help him get the revenge he deserved.

But when All Might showed up (more like "burst through the wall like the Cool Aid man"), Katsuki is instantly teleported in the strangest way possible... and the most traumatizing.

He chokes out this weird slime-like substance that devours him within seconds. Thankfully it only last that long, but then again, the Sludge Incident, remember?

Yeah, bet that brings back some memories.

But what must have hurt him the most was All Might's downfall and early retirement. He said it himself:

After several chapters, he finally burst. He's been holding all the pain inside of him until it bubbled over and he couldn't take it anymore. So he went to the only person he could- the person he hated and yet trusted the most.

Maybe the Class 1A concert helped him in a way. It seemed like it brought him down and maybe even relaxed him a little. And something incredible happens. Something we haven't seen from him at all until now...

(From here, I'll try to keep it short to avoid as many manga spoilers as I can. That and I'm tired...)

He began to change; started to support Izuku... in his own twisted way, of course. As chapters went by, he started to open up little by little. He admitted what he had done to Izuku in middle school to All Might, which had brought him some peace of mind. It wasn't quite the apology we had hoped for, but I guess it'll do.

And during the war, he made the greatest sacrifice, finally unlocking his quirk's full potential. Despite being unable to move, he used his quirk to throw himself in front of Izuku without thinking, taking a blow to his stomach. To his stomach.

He was impaled.

Holy shit.

Last time someone had been impaled was Nighteye, and he died from his wounds.

But Katsuki somehow managed to survive... And woke up ready to beat Izuku's ass if he didn't wake up.

Anyway, that's all I have to say (so far). However, I'm excited for Season 5 of the anime series! Can't wait to see our new story animated! I mean, I've been watching the episodes as they come out, but still.

-Blightcon

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #kacchan #midoriya izuku #deku #all might #bakugou mitsuki #bakugou masaru #todoroki shouto #Utsushimi Camie #tokoyami fumikage #the thoughtbox

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glacecakes · 3 years

Text

Wild Hunt

Eugene isn't exactly well liked by his men, but when they want to induct him into their ranks, he's not going to complain! All he has to do is hunt down a beast that they prepared for this event specifically-

It's Varian. Eugene is accidentally hunting down Varian. Now the two have to survive the night together, while one of them is injured, against a squadron of Corona's best men.

Uh oh.

IM BACK! Kinda. Finals are due Tuesday and I wrote this instead of doing them but WHATEVER WHO CARES

This was mostly written on the Varian Hivemind server, with some lovely inputs from the folks on there, and I edited it and finished it before throwing it up here. So uh. Yea. Team Awesome my beloved

Life and Times and VVO will also be updated soon!!! I hope to have at least one if not both chapters done by the end of the month

ANYWAY HERES 8K OF TEAM AWESOME ANGST

Being Captain of the Guards sure had its perks.

For one, he got to attend meetings with Rapunzel, finally. You'd think being the princess's future husband (probably) and Prince of the Dark Kingdom got him some recognition, but noblemen are jerks and elitists, so what can you do. Granted, the meetings were boring as all hell, but still, it felt like he was actually being respected and taken seriously. Something Rapunzel had been pushing for since the start. Personally, he wasn't all that sure he deserved it, but if she was happy, so was he.

Another was that the guards no longer gave him shit. That's not to say they did before... well, they did. Stan and Pete didn't, but every other guard called him Flynn Rider at least once or twice before begrudgingly accepting him as their teacher and now commander. He no longer had to worry about someone breathing down his back, waiting for him to slip up or commit a crime, eager to throw him back in prison.

Speaking of which...

He turned the corner to see a few guards, couldn't remember their names off the top of his head, forming a small circle around a corner. Their predatory grins barred down on whatever their target was, whichever poor soul had angered them. One of them had his hands on someone much shorter, so short he couldn't make them out beyond the red coats and gleaming gold... which could only mean it was one person.

"Don't get comfy, brat," the one hissed, pushing Varian up against the wall with an audible crack as a skull hit stone, no doubt hoisted up by a shirt collar. "One of these days the princess is gonna get sick of you, and when she does, we'll toss you back into your old cell... and we'll restart our favorite game. Ain't that a swell idea?" Varian hissed, a soft thunk of his boots scrambling for purchase against the wall.

"Hey!" Eugene snapped, having heard more than enough. "Put him down now ." His words were like fire, causing the other two to jump back and reveal the battered and bruised alchemist. His lip was split, a large scuff of dirt on his white shirt.

One of the guards snapped his head around, whacking the leader's shoulder to get his attention. The guard frowned. "Oh yea? Or what?"

Before his new position, he would've leapt into the fray, hackles raised, punching the lights out of these jerks, but now, he had a much better stance. "Or you're fired." He crossed his arms, the perfect picture of a guy in charge who knew how to keep his men in line.

Someone who was clearly not him.

The guard hummed. "You don't have the nerve." To emphasize his point, he shook Varian a little harder, the kid's toes barely scraping the floor and his hands gripping the soldier's wrists. Leather gloves creaked with how tight the pressure was.

But Eugene's glare didn't waver, hand itching for the sword at his hip, his anger radiating in waves. It was enough to get the other two to back off.

"Cmon, Aaron," one whispered. "It's not worth it."

"Yeah, it's not." Eugene agreed. "Put him down now, and I'll lighten your sentence to a week in the stables instead of a month."

Aaron's face turned sheet white, then bright red. With a huff, he dropped Varian to the ground, readjusting his gloves while Varian cried out on the floor.

"You got lucky this time, brat," he hissed.

Oh, he knew that type of speech. The Baron used it all the time. Anyone who got told that never lasted to the next month. "And all other times," he said. "Because if I see you go anywhere near him I'm taking you to the princess."

Aaron rolled his eyes, clearly uncaring, and stormed off with a huff, his buddies trailing after. No doubt they didn't like a criminal ordering them around. Or, ex-criminal. He'd have to keep an eye on them.

A sniffle broke Eugene's musings, the fog of satisfaction and annoyance quickly replaced by concern for his younger friend. Varian sat up, wincing as he did so. He rubbed his neck, feeling for any injuries and finding none except for his ruined collar. "Aw man," he mumbled.

Dad had fixed his collar for him that day, a proud smile on his face. "You need to look sharp for your first day on the job," he'd said, ruffling Varian's hair. They'd grown so much closer in the past few months, the man always seeing his son off. Today was the first day back after his kidnapping, after all; he'd spent a month recovering from a broken rib.

"It's not my first day, I've been working there for weeks," Varian had grumbled, but let him do it with a cheeky grin.

"First day of the week," Quirin rectified, placing a kiss to his baby's forehead.

A forehead now covered in dust and a bruise.

"Hey kid," Eugene offered a hand that Varian gladly took, stumbling a little as he was helped upright. "You ok? Nothing knocked outta place?"

"Just my pride," Varian joked, smile quickly fading. "I'm ok though, really. I'm used to it." He shrugged, hugging himself for comfort. Maybe he could pretend dad was here, hugging him... he always had the best hugs. Even when Varian was little, before they drifted apart. Back when he was just the weird magic kid. Back when his biggest worries were some older kids picking on him... Dad would always scoop him up into a big hug with flowery words and a book of Flynn Rider.

A warm hand wrapped around him, pulling him into a red chest. Eugene took his other hand to ruffle Varian's hair, earning a squawk of complaint.

"Just because you're used to it doesn't mean it's ok, you know that, right?" Silence followed. Gosh, this kid... say what you want about being an orphan, at least everyone around you was on the same boat. No place for bullies, nothing to bully about, when everyone was doing just as badly. "If they ever give you more trouble, you come to me, yeah?"

"Huh?" Confused blue eyes met warm brown.

Eugene smirked. "You say the words and I boot them out of the castle, goggles. Team Awesome looks out for each other."

"Oh," Varian mumbled, dazed. He'd never had a protector, never had anyone looking out for him. Cold sneers and flowery words, manipulation and secrets and ulterior motives, sure. His chest fluttered, a laugh escaping.

But then... the anxiety returned full force, maybe even stronger.

If those guys got fired because of him, good god, he could only imagine the fallout. Well, that's not true. He absolutely could. One time in prison a guard got fired for beating a cellmate within an inch of his life, and though the guy lived, the second he was out of prison he got jumped, or so the story goes. In all honesty it was probably an embellished truth, stretched out to frighten prisoners into silence, but god damn if it didn't work. No one ever complained about their beatings. A peep was all that was needed to spend a night in the infirmary for even worse injuries.

"No, no, it's fine," Varian flicked his wrist. The dial on his hand spun with each flick, the ticking grating. "Besides, we have work to do!"

"Oh, yea!" Eugene gasped. Right! The whole reason he came out to this part of the castle was to look for Varian specifically, after all.

"So, right, maintenance stuff." Varian waved his hand, motioning for Eugene to follow. "Here's what I had in mind..."

It was a week later, late at night, when Aaron approached him. The moon lay low in the sky, just bright enough to allow for vision without torchlight, but not bright enough that anything beyond shapes were clear. True to his word, the guard had been stationed on stable duty for the past several days, coming back to the barracks covered in dirt and angry every time.

So maybe Eugene had whispered to Max about him. Big deal.

Anyway, the captain was knee-deep in paperwork when Aaron knocked on his office door. "Sir," he said. "Finished up for the day, and I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Eugene put his quill down hesitantly. Aaron was his first big show of power, the first punishment he'd dished. Everything else had been a variation of "keep doing what you're doing" as he settled into his new role. Who knew being in a position of power was so stressful?

(Everyone. Literally everyone.)

"I wanted to apologize for testing you, sir." The man shifted, eyes never meeting. His face was unreadable. "I wasn't sure you were going to be as..... sharp, as our previous captain. And I'm sorry for that."

"....Ok," Eugene said. "Thanks? I think?"

"So, I uh... wanted to do something for you." The man continues. "Me and a few others. It's sorta a ritual for guards. We didn’t do it before cuz of, yknow, Cassandra and stuff. And you're one of us now, so...?" He raised an eyebrow, a quiet invitation.

Oh boy.

Knowing these guys, it was probably something really stupid. Most of the guards were pretty nice, maybe a bit airheaded, but a lot of meatheads mostly. Big fans of machismo and showing their strength, boosting their ego, stuff like that. It's why none of them were fans of being run by a criminal. And no doubt Eugene would have to clean up their mess anyway, so he sighed deeply and rose from his seat. "Alright, what did you do now?"

Aaron placed a hand to his chest. "Why, sir, we did this out of the goodness of our heart! We're just welcoming you to the team!" He laughed a bit at that last part. He pointed out the door, leading his superior down the suspiciously empty barracks, and out into the courtyard.

About a dozen or so guards were outside, waiting. One of them was holding a horse's reins, and a crossbow.

"He's in!" Aaron called, and the guards all broke into cheers and raucous laughter.

"Yea, nice to see you guys too, uh. What am I... in?" Eugene asked, shifting awkwardly.

Aaron's smile widened. "It's just a fun little game, sir."

"The game is simple, really," Aaron slung an arm around Eugene's shoulder, pulling him close, not unlike how Lance does. But unlike his larger friend, this man is wiry, more of a weaselly kind of build, with stick thin arms that hide his muscle. "See, when someone new joins the guard, we test their skill by having them hunt down a beast in the nearby forest. Once they catch it, we all celebrate together! And welcome him into the ranks!" The guards all cheered, no doubt thrilled at the prospect.

"....right...." Eugene smiled uncomfortably, cheeks pulling and stretching, a puppet controlling the strings attached to his face. His stomach swirled, bouncing all over as he was passed around.

"But see, you're not just any guard, you're the Captain," Aaron's smile took an equally unpleasant demeanour. "So we figured we'd give you some extra... challenge." Outside of their little circle, no sounds could be heard. Not a peep from a cricket, or a cry from a bird, just dead silence in the surrounding glen. Just the crackle of torches, and the rustling of men.

"The beast for this occasion is small, smart, and fast. The goal is to catch it before it reaches the wall at Old Corona. All you gotta do is," he makes a noise with his mouth to emulate the crossbow. "Hit the target, and the rest of us will finish the job."

"Finish?" Eugene echoed.

The guards around him smiled with all of their teeth. "Well yea, we're not just gonna waste a perfectly good beast, are we?"

Eugene narrowed his eyes. If Rapunzel heard about this, no doubt she'd flip. "How will I know what I'm looking for? And why should I even approve of this?"

"Relax, sir," Aaron shook him, patting his chest with a heavy fist. "We're not just killing an innocent creature. It's always something that's been marked for slaughter, or is causing problems. And trust me," his voice deepened. "You'll know."

No horse was as good as Max, but that was probably for the best, what with his gut screaming about how this all felt so goddamn sketchy. "This isn't some trap where it turns out I'm the one being hunted, right? Cuz I don't want to shoot any of you with this," he joked, brandishing the crossbow.

"No, sir, not at all! In fact we'll be supporting you! No one makes the first shot until you do." He promised, patting the horse's flank. "Rest assured, no tricks here. Just a beast already marked for capture. Or recapture, in this case. We picked this one special for you."

"That sounds like it's supposed to be flattering but it really isn't."

Aaron shrugged. "Not my problem. Good luck!" With a smack to the horse, she cried out, spurring Eugene forward.

They rode through the Capital, out into Corona proper, lush with trees. At this time of night, no one would be about, not even thieves, laden in their straw beds and cots. The only things out right now are animals, or a beast, in this case. How is he supposed to know what he's looking for? What, is it going to be some giant thing with red eyes? No, Aaron said it was small, how the hell is he going to...

Then he hears it.

It's faint, almost like a windchime, but sure enough, the clanking of chains, and a small whimper. Somewhere through the trees there's a rustling, something moving. He can't make it out, the guards didn't give him a torch, but a blob of something rushes forward, the only thing he can make out the distinctive shine of metal, a chain reflecting in the moonlight.

Ah.

Eugene smirked, the rush of adrenaline from a chase beginning to pump through his veins. It'd been a while since an adventure without any stakes, without any daring challenges or risking death. The last time must've been... gosh, probably the Herz de Sonne misadventure? And even then he and Lance had just goofed off for the majority of it. Maybe the Spire? That one was much riskier but he and Rapunzel had been so outrageously drunk during that whole endeavor that it felt more like a fun jaunt.

He shook himself out of his reverie. Focus, Eugene! Fun or no, you're proving yourself to the guards! Show them that you're a worthy Captain beyond just barking orders and supporting the princess!

He spurred the horse forward, hooves thundering against the undergrowth and disturbing the leaves below. The beast let out a shriek, shrill and shaking, rushing forward. It weaved between trees, trying to throw Eugene off. Man, Aaron wasn't kidding about how fast it was. Even on horseback he couldn't keep up very well. The chains wrapped around the beast's legs screamed in complaint, clanking and clattering with each huff of its breath.

Eugene lowered the crossbow, sticking his tongue out. Steady... steady.... he fired.

The bolt whizzed through the air, lodging into a tree just a few feet away from its target. The beast flinched but didn't slow, scampering through the undergrowth, leaping over a fallen tree towards the river.

"Hyah!" He yelled, leading his horse over the log and splashing down into frigid waters. Water rushed past his horse's hooves, dulling the sound of chains, and when he looked around, the beast was gone.

Drat.

Eugene grumbled, reloading the crossbow before urging his horse onward. If this beast got away he'd never hear the end of it! They'd be all "Yes sir, Captain! We'll catch that criminal! As soon as you catch that beast!" And then they'd laugh and he'd moan and he'd have to go catch the criminal himself which is honestly not too far off from how it is already-

Anyway.

It took a few minutes to find it again, the beast trying to muffle it's movements by shuffling, but the metal song was too alluring to ignore. There was no time to waste. With the horse at a fast trot, quieter and steadier, he fired the bolt, this time getting much closer, barely whizzing past the silhouette and lodging into a tree trunk with a chunk of hair.

The creature cried out again, beginning to run and renew this dance of cat and mouse, but Eugene wouldn't have it. Dexterous fingers clasped a new bolt and quickly reloaded, giving barely a few seconds for the creature to try and run before firing again.

He didn't miss.

It was almost silent, the bolt's descent. Its tip gleamed in the moonlight alongside the chains keeping his prey in place, the one thing that slowed it and gave Eugene the upper hand. Whatever this beast was was quick, too quick, and if he lost it again, no doubt he'd never find it again. So when he aimed, he aimed down, and sure enough, the bolt embedded itself into the beast's calf, sending into stumbling.

It shrieked, screamed and sobbed in agony, noises bordering on almost human-like as it thrashed on the floor. The arrow stuck straight up, bright color on the end almost a beacon for the beast's location. Poor thing. He really should've just aimed for the head and put it out of its mercy, but this was the only way to ensure a clean shot.

Eugene slid off his horse, crouching low to the ground as he readied the final blow. But as he got nearer, as the moon hung lower in the sky, providing light through the filtering trees. He hesitated.

The beast was crawling, still trying to run, front legs pawing at the forest floor and clenching the leaves beneath with hands.

Hands...?

Eugene's stomach sank, lower and lower with each passing step, heart climbing higher and higher in his throat, the closer he got, the more ill he felt.

He saw the chains first. No, not chains like that on a cattle’s neck. Prison shackles, the kind wrapped around a prisoner's legs. And they were wrapped around legs, keeping strides from being too large.

And their torso.... clothed torso..... The beast heaved, each breath causing it to rise and fall with rapid panic.

The Captain's hands brushed against the tree with his other bolt embedded in it, eyes trailing onto it, and he froze.

Blue hair, stabbed by the bolt.

"No," he breathed. "No no no no no..." His boots picked up the pace, speed walking over to his catch, to his victim. Please, for the love of god, let him be wrong. Let this be a cruel prank, just a bear or deer dressed up to fool him... don't let it be...!

The creature heard him approach and sobbed, flipping itself over on shaking hands to get a better look at its assailant.

There, lightened by the moonlight, chest heaving, tears streaming down his face and blood oozing from his leg, was Varian.

"Varian....?" Eugene whispered, tears of his own budding when his friend whimpered, scooting back and away. With each step forward Varian scrambled back until his back hit a tree, at which point he curled into a ball. Like a frightened animal. Like a cornered beast.

Oh god... this whole time, he thought it was just one of the farm animals marked for slaughter, or a meddlesome woodland critter... he thought it was an animal destined for someone's table, so why not the guards'? Why on Earth did he agree to this? Was he so desperate for approval from his peers that he would simply shrug off the ringing alarm bells, put aside his gut instinct, and dive in blindly?

Yes, his mind whispered. You would, and you did.

"Hey, buddy," He leaned down, inching closer. "Varian, goggles, it's me. It's Team Awesome." His hand shook as he reached forward, but Varian flinched violently, causing his leg to spasm. The boy hiccuped, a hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his sobs. A small mercy came from the shadows of the night, with it too dark for details, Varian wouldn't see the blood rapidly soaking his pants.

The crossbow glinted, a sharp refraction bouncing off frightened blue eyes and causing him to wince. Eugene tossed the weapon away like it burned him.

"It's me, it's Eugene," he reassured, scooting closer bit by bit. "I'm here to help. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"You did," Varian gasped, whole form shaking. "You did."

And that really was the crux of it, wasn't it? At the center of Eugene's self loathing was the spiral of guilt that you shot him, you shot the kid. He trusted you, and you shot him.

"I know," he rasped, trying to keep his voice level. "I did. I'm so sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Varian sobbed, unfurling slightly if only to reach out for comfort. Even if this was the man who hurt him, who hunted him on horse and acted as the boogeyman straight out of nightmares, he was also Eugene, his friend, the one who stood up for him against Cass and Aaron, held his hand and promised he'd be there if Varian ever needed it. And god did he need him now.

Shaking, gloved hands connected in the middle, Eugene's grip gentle but grounding, a careful smile on his face. "That's it, bud. You're safe."

“Aw, ain’t that cute?”

Faster than a bullet, the smaller hand retracted, Varian’s eyes wide and horror-struck. In his attempt to comfort the boy, Eugene had let his guard down. He’d forgotten the final rule of the game.

No one moves until you make the first shot.

They were surrounded.

Aaron swaggered up to the duo with a grin, torch in hand. It flickered and sputtered, illuminating his blinding white grin amidst the darkness. The other guards formed a circle around them. Every other man carried a torch, while the rest had a weapon or tool or rope.

“The Captain has captured the beast! And in remarkable time, too.” Aaron simpered, waltzing up and gripping Varian’s cheeks in his hand. The boy snarled, teeth grit as he stared up at his bully.

From behind them came Aaron’s two buddies, the guards from before, each one wrapping an arm around Eugene’s shoulder, hauling him up and away.

For a moment, Eugene's insides were pure ice, frozen in time, unable to react despite the screaming in his mind as the puzzle pieces failed to connect. They jumbled and sloshed in his mind, the picture only half complete and the rest of the pieces strewn atop, obscuring the image from his view.

"Eugene...?" Varian whispered, thawing him.

"What have you done!?" He bellowed, anger hardening his voice. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" He strained against the guards.

"Just as we told you, sir!" Aaron mocked, forcing Varian to meet the Captain's gaze. "We captured a beast for you to hunt down! And now that you have," The grin was razor sharp, shark's fangs practically drenched in blood. "We'll dispose of it properly."

A guard from the circle threw a rope, the ends tied into a loop. Like a ring toss, the aim was true, ensnaring Varian's wrist and tightening when he pulled. Another guard followed suit, yanking the boy back and forth till his arms were spread eagle and unable to move.

Varian turned a stark white, paler than the moon that neared the horizon. He cried out, straining to try and escape, but another spasm from his leg paralyzed him. “N-no, please not again…!” He sobbed. “Let me go-!”

"Again!? Varian, what do you mean? VARIAN!" Eugene yelled. "VARIAN!"

The boy screwed his eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

"LET HIM GO!" Eugene strained against the guards, lamenting once again, his own stupidity. He should've brought Max, or an actual weapon, like his sword, or something! He'd gone in totally blind, expecting that the guards were decent people and that this wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Honestly, he should've known better! After everything he's seen and done, never leave the house without a concealed weapon! You were almost executed by half these assholes!

When he gets back, he's firing everyone except Stan and Pete.

A third rope flashed through the air, this time with a loop larger than the others. It latched itself onto Varian's neck, wrapping tight and close. His eyes snapped open in pure terror, mouth opening in shock. But before the boy could protest or scream, the rope was pulled taut, and his face turned an awful shade of purple. He coughed, thrashing in place with tears of fear and hypoxia trailing his cheeks.

"Aw, the beast is scared! Doesn't he know how all animals are slaughtered?" Aaron cooed, faux sympathy marring his features. "You know, don't you? You were raised on a farm, after all." His question went unanswered, Varian too busy rasping for breath to respond.

The man with the rope pulled harder, forcing Varian's face down into the dirt where his muffled cries barely caused the leaves beneath to move. A steel boot stomped onto his head, and the cries went still.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" Eugene bellowed, the protective instincts in his mind going haywire, overheating and exploding with pure rage and an intense need to save him, free him. He let this happen, if he had been smarter, stronger, if he hadn't shot him, hadn't let his guard down, hadn't shrugged and taken the guards' words at face value… “Oh relax, it'll be painless!” Aaron hummed, producing a knife from his belt. “The beast didn’t answer the question, but, I’m sure you can figure out how animals are killed after falling unconscious.” He jokingly slashed the dagger in the air above his throat, and Eugene saw red.

"YOU ARE SO FIRED!" He screeched at Aaron. "WHEN RAPUNZEL FINDS OUT-"

"Oh?" Aaron mocked, turning around and placing a hand to his chest daintily. "When the princess finds out? You're making her do all the heavy lifting?" He sauntered up to Eugene, hips swaying with each step till they were nose to nose. "This is your job, sir. You are in charge of keeping us in line, keeping the prisoners in their place."

"Varian is NOT a prisoner," Eugene hissed, meeting his gaze with pure fury. "He is a friend, my friend, my brother."

"Perhaps to Eugene Fitzherbert, but not a Captain of the Guard." Aaron shrugged.

Eugene lowered his head. For a brief moment, Aaron grinned victoriously. Now he's getting it.

"Too bad for you, I'm both."

Aaron's face fell, the cheerful facade falling into a brutal glower. "What does that mea-"

He was cut off when Eugene slammed his face into Aaron's, hitting the bastard's nose with a CRUNCH. He staggered back, and his buddies loosened their grip on Eugene to see if he's ok. It's all the advantage Eugene needed, quickly pushing them both off him and charging Aaron. His shoulder bowled into Aaron, sending him sprawling, and Eugene only stopped to grab the dagger he dropped before sprinting for Varian's crumpled form.

"Oh sun, please be ok, come on kid," Eugene chanted, slashing the rope around his neck. It leaves a brutal ring of red around his neck, as do the ones around his wrist when they're dispatched. There was no time to remove the chains, what with the remaining guards quickly regaining their senses and gearing up for a fight.

He lifted Varian up into his arms as if he were made of glass. Dark black hair lolled against the Captain's chest as he stood to his full height, glaring down at his employees, the hazers, the conspirators.

There was no hope of taking them all on, that much was clear. Charging into battle with hands full and armed only with a knife was stupid. He'd have to outrun them, play the game, and make it to Old Corona where Quirin could protect his son and he could get actual backup from loyal men.

Perhaps this was the true game, the true test of his worthiness.

Aaron snarled, staggering up while clutching his nose. "GET HIM!"

Eugene crouched, letting the first guard try and charge him before jumping out of the way at the last second. This he was used to, dodging men who wanted nothing more than to hurt and destroy what he held dear, making a run for it to the relative safety of the familiar. He fell into the old routine without too much difficulty, leaping over heads and ducking under blows. It helped that Varian barely weighed more than a few grapes, still a stick from his year in prison. He and the others had been hard at work trying to help him gain at the very least some muscle, though Varian was a big fan of skipping meals for science.

According to Quirin he's had that habit for a while, and right now it was a minor blessing.

Huh, he thought to himself as he dodged a crossbow bolt, taking off into the trees. Captain of the Guard isn't all that off from my usual life, just with some added benefits. Another arrow nearly took off his ear. Yea, same old stuff.

His feet pounded against the forest floor, dredging up leaves and dirt alike as he ran. There was no time to cover his tracks or be discreet, there was a whole battalion after him, so it wouldn't do much good anyway. But as his steps quickened, as Varian bounced up and down in his arms, the chains still rattling, the boy stirred, groaning in pain with each motion.

"Gene...?" He mumbled, muffled through the man’s coat.

"Hey kid," Eugene grinned down, not slowing for a second. "Glad to see you're ok. How's your throat?"

"On fire..." a weak hand pawed at his throat, rubbing the soreness away.

"Sorry about that, you're gonna be just fine, ok? It's all gonna be ok."

Varian hummed, eyes glossy and not fully there. His head fell back onto Eugene's chest, a soft smile full of love that he didn't deserve. "K. I trust you."

Varian fell back into an uneasy sleep after that, his breaths wheezing against Eugene, lips stained blue and face clammy. Anytime exhaustion tried to creep into his bones, tried to sneak into his soul and drain him to surrender, he looked down at Varian and his spirit would renew.

At some point, they were hiding behind a tree, keeping to the intense darkness. A few guards could be heard not too far off, their annoyed mutterings like an alarm bell, a siren's song of false security. Just as they passed, Varian coughed, clutching at the fabric for comfort. It was an ugly sound, weak and ragged, as if there was something coming up.

When he looked down, those blue lips were now stained red.

He picked up the pace after that.

But even he couldn't run forever, no matter how light Varian was or how determined he was. Inevitably he had to stop for water, hiding Varian behind a fallen tree and drinking from a stream whose sounds hid them from view.

He just finished his own drink when Varian stirred, and the Captain was quick to help Varian get some water of his own.

They sat by the stream for a bit, catching their breaths, Eugene from exertion, and Varian from strangulation.

It was here that Varian recounted his side of the story, tears dripping and mixing with the stream below him. "I was so scared..." he whispered, voice hoarse.

"I bet," Eugene soothed, running a thumb over Varian's palm. "What happened?"

"....I got jumped," his eyes turned downcast, shame coloring his features. "T-they grabbed me when I was gonna head home. Said that they wanted to make it up to me, to... to give me "a job befitting my talents"...." He sighed. "You can probably guess what that was, huh."

Eugene's ears burned. A flame simmered in his gut, nausea falling away as his free hand clenched at the leaves below him. "Yea. I can." He bit out.

For a moment, neither spoke, unsure of what to say. What could they say? The situation was insane, it was cruel, it was... it was…

Varian hacked, more blood than before coming up and splattering on the shackles that remained.

"Oh, let me get those," Eugene hissed. "I'm sorry, shit," He fumbled for his pockets, procuring a lock pick and making quick work of the shackles. "We gotta move. We can't let them find us." His hands hovered over the bolt, unsure. "Can I... I mean, you can't run with..."

Varian turned a shade of green, barely visible. “It’s stopping the blood from coming out.”

"Yea, good point, sorry." He coughed awkwardly, the stream bubbling and gurgling a simple melody.

"Why do... why do you keep apologizing?" Varian asked, not meeting Eugene's eye for a second.

"Wh- seriously?" He let out a bark of laughter, fading when Varian's face didn't change. "Kid, it's my fault you're in this mess! Sun above, I shot you. I said I'd keep you safe and I shot you." Anger swelled in his words, but Varian didn't flinch. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "Some Captain I am, I'm being chased by my own guys."

Varian bit his lip. "Did..." he hesitated to ask. If the answer wasn't what he was hoping for, he'd never recover. "Did you know it was me?"

"No!" Eugene's eyes widened. "No, I never would've agreed if I knew it was a person, let alone you!" He ran a hand through frazzled hair.

"So..." Varian hummed. "You shot me on accident, and then saved me. Again. Even when your men tried to convince you otherwise." Each sentence was slow, filled with Varian needed to take in a breath, but he met his friend's eyes this time. "I think that's a pretty good Captain."

Eugene blinked, then smiled. "Thanks, kid."

Dark voices shouted across the clearing, words incomprehensible. Varian jolted, hands flying up before doubling over hacking. Each cough shook his body so hard you’d think the boy was trembling with fright.

“Woah, easy,” Eugene’s hand rubbed over his back. “Deep breaths. Come on goggles. You got this.”

“You would think,” Varian rasped. “But I do not.”

Finally, with one final hack, his coughs ceased. Each gulp of air felt like heaven, or at least it did for the first few seconds. Then it was replaced by a searing hell, leaving him scrambling again.

God, what is the culprit?

As his breathing quieted, as the burn turned to a small simmer, Varian’s eyes trailed to the forest floor beneath him.

Stained with blood.

Varian’s eyes widened, his pupils shrunk to pinpricks as his entire world focused in on the blood. The dark blues of night left it hard to see, more a black shine than the vicious red, but there was no denying what it was.

“What-oooh,” Eugene hissed, grabbing Varian’s shoulders for support. Shit, this was bad. He made a mental list of symptoms for the inevitable doctor visit: raspy voice, struggling to breathe, coughing up blood... all signs pointed to the noose as the culprit. Whichever guard had tried to strangle Varian was getting fired and arrested.

No, screw it, all of them were.

“Focus on me, hair stripe,” he warned, shaking his brother slightly. “Are you ok to move?” All he got was a weedy moan. “I’m taking that as a maybe.” With no preamble, he scooped his arms under Varian’s knees and back, pulling him into his arms as he stood in one fluid motion. “I’m gonna try and make a run for it, ok? We’re almost to your dad. I just need you to stay with me.”

Silence, and then a faint nod moving against his coat.

Each step sent vibrations up Eugene’s spine, tingling and thrumming in his veins and pounding in time with his heart. The sun would be rising soon, it had to be, with the dew that is forming at his feet.

At some point Varian readjusted, shifting so that he could see over their shoulders. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, but at least he could keep an eye out.

And it’s a good thing he did, when he beats wildly at Eugene’s chest in a signal. The captain was about to duck behind a bush, but the forest’s edge is within sight! Maybe if they made a break for it...?

An arrow grazed his side.

The pain looped through his system, joining the adrenaline for a joyride through his mind and it sent him sprawling. Varian rolled out of his arms, collapsing at the forest’s edge.

Eugene groaned, raising his face with the sun to see Aaron’s smug grin glowing in the upcoming dawn.

“Well, look what I caught! A daddy beast and a baby beast!” He said.

Eugene gaped. “Could you be any creepier? Really, gotta go for the weirdest shit to say, don’t you?”

“Eh,” Aaron shrugged, crossbow in hand. He stepped past his boss (Er, ex boss), boots crunching on leaves and leaving nothing but dust in their wake. “I’m a weird guy, I guess.”

“Yea, a real weirdo. Kidnaps a teenager and has the captain hunt him for sport. A nice quirk, ain’t it!” Each word is angrier than before until he is spitting acid.

Aaron doesn’t even argue; he’s too caught up in his victory. Varian shook as he struggled to sit up, arms quivering with effort. Just as he raised his head his eyes met the gleaming tip of an arrow, aimed right between the eyes. “Say goodnight, kid. Don’t worry. I’ll make a fine trophy out of you. Hang your goggles over my mantle.”

“Would you knock it the fuck off!?” Eugene wheezed, scrambling up. His feet gave out near instantly, but he leapt forward, colliding with the guard and driving his aim up. The arrow whizzed overhead, harmlessly lodging into a tree.

“Varian, run!” Eugene yelled, still on top of the other.

“I CAN’T! What part of arrow in my leg don’t you get!?” Varian yelled, immediately followed by coughing.

Eugene went to answer, only for the butt of the crossbow to whack him in the face.

Aaron laughed, loud and manic, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. It was quickly stopped by a punch to his stomach from the furious man above him. If the others found them, it’d be game over. Literally.

Whether or not Eugene would be killed was unclear. While he didn’t always need Rapunzel to save him, her good graces granted him immunity from most local threats. But they’d definitely kill Varian, and that was the bigger concern to him.

Unfazed, Aaron slammed his skull into Eugene’s, sending him tearing back. The guard quickly flipped them, crossbow still in between.

“Face it,” Aaron snarled. “You’ll never be a true captain. You can’t control your men, can’t protect a kid, can’t even protect yourself. You just got the job because you saved the lost princess.”

“In my defense,” Eugene wheezed. “Your previous guard couldn’t do that either.” That only angered him more, digging the crossbow into Eugene’s Adam’s apple.

The two men wrestled briefly, Eugene finally getting a good grip on the crossbow, and kicking Aaron off of him. He scrambled to Varian, fully prepared to scoop him up and begin the dance again, just for a little longer, but Aaron just yelled out in anger, drawing a sword from his belt. As strong as Eugene was, he couldn’t outrun him with Varian in his arms. He would know, he trained his men to match him in speed and strength.

Varian moaned in pain. He had to do something, he couldn’t just sit here! Eugene had spent the whole night running around, working his ass off to keep him safe after the initial mistake, he couldn’t let him down...

But the arrow scraped against his bone, pain sending stars across his vision any time he stood…

The captain’s hands clenched down on wood, eyes calculating. He looked into Varian’s eyes, then down at his leg. Then up again. And down again. He hissed between teeth, kneeled down, and clenched his fist around the arrow. It sent a pulse of pain through Varian’s leg, the boy wincing, but understanding.

“Do it,” he hissed.

And yanked.

The pain was so sharp, so intense, that for a moment Varian was certain he was dead. There was no way anyone could survive with this much pain, he must surely be dead or dying. White hot agony stabbed into his leg, and he bit so hard on his lip he broke skin. It took everything in him not to scream.

Aaron laughed again, shadow blanketing them. Eugene turned to see him looming over them, sword above his head. “Say goodnight, Sir!” he shrieked.

Fwip!

Thunk!

The man’s grin vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer shock at the arrow sticking straight into his throat. Blood trickled down the wound, looking more like an impulse tracheotomy. Suddenly, he pitched forward, face hitting the forest floor with a sickening shick as the arrow went the rest of the way through his throat. There wasn’t even a struggle, no death rattles or cry of pain, just the sounds of a morning dove in the coming dawn.

Eugene’s shoulders slumped, and Varian leaned back into the cool grass.

“You doing alright there, Goggles?” Eugene called.

“My lungs are on fire, I can’t feel my legs and I’m sweating in places I didn’t even know I could sweat. I’d say I’m in the mood to die, but I literally just spent the whole night trying to prevent that.”

“...fair enough.”

The weeks that followed were, for lack of a better term, a total fucking nightmare.

After pulling themselves together, the brothers managed to hobble to Varian’s house in Old Corona, just in time to greet Quirin at the door. Imagine the poor man’s shock when he was headed out to work only to be greeted by his son’s blood and the captain’s exhaustion. Suffice to say, they got a proper tongue lashing the whole cart ride to Corona proper, the father fussing over them both while he rushed them to the infirmary. And then they had to get chewed out by Rapunzel, and Lance, and pretty much everyone else, despite their repeated insistence that it wasn’t their fault this time.

“What did you expect us to do? We were being hunted!” Eugene whined at Rapunzel while a nurse cleaned up a cut.

“Uh, I was being hunted. You were hunting me .” Varian hoarsely piped up from his own bed, leg propped up in a cast. He paused at the frantic stop motion Eugene was making, and the paling faces of his father and princess. “Oh. Was I. Not supposed to say that.”

“You’re not supposed to be talking,” Rapunzel chided lightly, though that was clearly not the problem. The doctor had been pretty quick to explain Varian’s breathing issues were just from the throat trauma, and would heal with time and supervision.

“I didn’t know! In my defense,” Eugene held up his hands as if to shield from Quirin’s murderous face, but if looks could kill he’d be a pile of bones. “I didn’t know.”

“How do you…” Quirin pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to remind myself that you saved my son’s life and ignore the part where you endangered it in the first place.”

“Yes, please do,” He said, shifting under the glare.

And then came the paperwork.

Trying to figure out who among the guards was part of the hunt was hard enough, seeing as outside of Aaron and his cronies, no one was going to say a word. All they had to go off of were the men who saw Eugene off, and the ones who initially captured Varian. And since they hadn’t run into anyone else directly, no one could be properly accused and charged. But Eugene wasn’t going to take any chances, and therefore anyone who he saw at least once was fired, and if they wanted to dispute it they could come to him and explain why they were willing to throw his little brother to the wolves.

Suffice to say, no one did. Which left Eugene with only two thirds his original squadron. He spent a good while of his recovery vetting new recruits and creating incentives for others to try out, and while he was able to replenish his ranks, they weren’t nearly the same elite task force they’d started with. And considering the threats they faced on the regular, that was a serious problem.

It was after a long day of training and interviews that Eugene finally stumbled into the castle library, ready to destress with a nice long binge read of Flynn Rider. He grabbed a few books off the shelves as he walked, headed for his favorite couch and the cozy fireplace at its side, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Varian lay spread across the couch, foot propped up on the armrest as he glossed over some scientific text that Eugene had no hope of understanding. His eyes flitted up and down the page, clearly not actually reading and more just staring at the words.

“Hey,” Eugene called, and Varian barely reacted. “Oi, kid, that’s my spot. Scooch it.” “I got here first,” Varian said, not looking up for a second.

“Older brother gets first dibs.”

“Little brother gets his way.”

Oh he was gonna play it like that was he? Eugene smirked, plopping his books down at the floor before collapsing directly on top of Varian, making care to not crush the injured leg. Varian squawked in protest, limbs flailing.

“Get off! You’re heavy!” he yelled, trying to push him off. When that failed, he resorted to whacking at him.

“Never!” Eugene laughed. “Your little punches feel like flowers!”

“I have an iron deficiency!” Varian responded, cheeks red but smiling slightly. The captain finally stopped suffocating him, but didn’t get off, instead wiggling in close so they could share. “Mean,” Varian whined, a pout on his lips, but didn’t complain.

“Oh hush,” Eugene chided, grabbing a book from the floor. “You know you love me.”

Varian simply hummed, buck teeth peeking through a tiny grin. “So, what did you grab for today?”

“Ah, glad you asked!” Eugene held up the cover, which Varian oohed in appreciation. “One of the older ones, came out when I was your age.” He wrapped an arm around Varian, pulling his brother close, the warmth of his side and the fire combining to create a heavenly cocoon. “You want to read, or should I?”

“Your turn,” Varian responded, stifling a yawn.

The book creaked in protest, Eugene gazing down at his little brother with a smile. He leaned his cheek on the boy’s hair, deep voice dripping with fondness as he started to read.

Being Captain was fun, but being a brother was even better.

#tangled the series #varian #tts #tangled #team awesome #tts eugene #eugene fitzherbert #tts varian #rta #rapunzel's tangled adventure

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