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silv3rswirls · 3 years

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Rockstar

No one requested this I just really want bad boy Jungkook to ruin my life.

Lord save me I love the whole vibe of this Jungkook.

Summary: At a time like this, the last place you expected to be was some seedy bar downtown, but here you were drinking shitty beer and making eyes with the live band’s drummer.

Warnings: Female reader, dirty talk/degradation, public sex (y’all fuck in an alleyway), alcohol, smoking/marijuana use, unprotected sex, slight strength kink, hair pulling, slight breeding kink? (not sure if this can qualify as that)

Word count: 4k

When you and your boyfriend broke up, you had imagined yourself laying around at home and drowning your sorrows in take-out and sappy romance movies. That’s what you had planned at least, but your friends had other plans. They had come to your apartment with plans to go to some little bar downtown. A small underground place that had been the talk all around campus lately. They had cheap drinks, live music, and seemed to be the perfect party setting lately. You decided to go after they pestered you enough, encouraging that this is what you needed after the breakup.

It wasn’t that you hated going out to these kinds of things, you just weren’t much of a partier. Sure, you drank at times, but never really let yourself go like a lot of students did. You had never seen anything wrong with this, but apparently, your boyfriend had. He broke up with you and cited his biggest reason as being that you were just too boring to date. And he did it over text no less. This guy had been your high school boyfriend and the relationship had carried on into your college years, you really hadn’t thought you would break up at this point. You thought, maybe it was for the best. He seemed way more interested in spending his college years partying and hooking up anyways, but it didn’t stop the hurt you felt over the breakup.

You knew he was a bit of an asshole and maybe that’s what you had liked so much about him, but besides that, the two of you had been together for so long. He had been your first boyfriend and kiss, he had taken your virginity, the whole shebang. He had been your only boyfriend as well, so your experience with anyone else was next to nothing, and in a way it made you feel a bit nervous about getting back out there.

But, your friends usually didn’t steer you the wrong way so you thought why not? Maybe going out would be fun like they said. You would be going to a bar single for the first time, exciting right?

Honestly, it wasn’t.

You were currently sitting at the bar alone while your friends had found others to distract them. You didn’t mind, just wished you weren’t the weirdo sitting alone like this. You were taking a break from dancing as your feet were beginning to hurt and the crowd left you a bit lightheaded. The bar hadn’t been what you envisioned when everyone told you about it. It was a small place, some kind of obscure dive bar or something. The walls were packed with signs and posters, neon lights illuminated them in color. The stage was towards the other end of the place, relatively small with lights shining onto the crowded- they were currently red, bathing the whole place in its hue. A few tables and chairs had been pushed more to the side, but a few people sat and talked, played cards, or snacked on the stale chips left out. Fans spun lazily above you, doing nothing in the way of cooling the stuffy place off. Smoke moved around the dance floor fluidly, mingled with the stench of alcohol and sweat as people danced and crowded at the stage in excitement. There was laughter and smiles all around the bar, some intoxicated and others conversing with vigor. There was a wall of muted bottles glittering behind the counter, stacked with dozens of things you hadn’t even heard of before. Some looked intriguing, but you were content with the admittedly watered-down and cheap beer.

The bar may have been a little rundown, but it soaked in the ambiance of a night of rock music and mistakes.

You held your head, nursing the small headache coming from the dozens of conversations being had over the bass of the live band- some group you had never heard of and couldn’t even remember their name. It was good music though, not necessarily what you thought you would be partying to tonight. They dominated the atmosphere as the young crowd, made mostly of university students like yourself you assumed. You took a bitter sip of your drink, not quite drunk, but feeling it enough to slip into your feelings. You wondered if your ex would find this boring or not. Maybe the fact that you were sitting alone instead of enjoying yourself was enough to prove you weren’t exactly the life of a party. If only your friends would come back, you thought before finishing your drink and hoping down from the bar.

“Hey, come dance with us!”

A group of girls around your age called you to follow as they made their way back into the crowd. You thought for a moment, before smiling and tailing after them. One held your hand as you pushed your way through the crowd, muttering sorries you knew no one could hear as you bumped and pushed. They took you to the front of the crowd, laughing and giggling as they accepted you into their group without a thought. You couldn’t help but smile as well, looking up at the band as they played. It felt a little unreal to be so close to them, the music pounding in your ears and the lights blinding you and staining your whole being in a red hue. Music filled the air so easily, the sound reaching everyone in the bar. Some let go and listen while others continue chatting, but it speaks out to them all in some way. You didn’t know the words but sing anyway. You yelled, so loud and raw as you got lost in the feeling; the anger and upset you felt over your ex fueling your desire to let go and have fun. It felt right, that moment. Intense and freeing as the vibration of their playing made your head tingle and your body want to jump up and down with everyone else.

As you let yourself get lost in the atmosphere your eyes drifted across the young men playing before you and you catch one of their eyes lingering on you and between the brief breaks between songs you spare him looks that are barely glances and it feels like he’s doing the same. By the time their set ends you feel some accidental bond lingering between your shared glances and disappointment drowns you when you realize it’s time he leaves.

“I can’t believe this'' You mutter as you step outside into the cool night air. You couldn’t find a single sign of your friends, so you assume they left you behind. Maybe it was your fault spending your time at the front with a new group of girls, they probably hadn’t been able to find you. Checking your phone you found a few missed texts from them and sighed. They had been your ride back home, but it looked like you would be calling an uber instead. Pulling at the hem of your dress as the cold breeze nipped at your thighs, you walked down the street a bit in search of a bench or something you could sit at since the bar had kicked the remaining customers out.

You jumped slightly at the sudden flick of headlights turning on as you walked past the alleyway between the bar and some closed-down restaurant next to it. Squinting a bit you spotted the guys from the band loading the equipment up. “Looking for an autograph?” You mustered a nervous smile as one of them looked over at you, his eyes locking on yours as you had with the drummer on stage. You hadn’t gotten the best look at the drummer while he was performing, the lights had been blinding and you weren’t able to make any specific details out on him. But he looked similar enough.

“I mean, If you're offering one?” He matched your smile waltzing up to you with a Sharpie in hand. He scanned you up and down quickly before telling you to give him your arm, so you did and shuddered at the feeling of the sharpie dragging across your skin. You inspected the autograph, just two letters scribbled fancily on your forearm. “JK?” you asked.

“Jungkook actually, and you are?”

“Y/n” you replied, looking up from his writing.

“So Y/n, how does it feel to have such a famous rockstar’s autograph?” You laughed, “you don’t seem all that famous just yet.”

Jungkook simply smiled and went on, “you know, I saw you making eyes at me from the crowd.”

“Oh really?” You breathed, feeling a bit nervous as he brought it up.

He hummed, “It was hard to make out, but with how hard you were staring I could tell.” He teased.

“Lucky for you then.” You shivered as another cool wind blew through the alley attacked your exposed skin. Jungkook seemed to notice because he turned to look at his bandmates before offering to let you come inside with him. You chewed the inside of your cheek, normally you would never even of gotten so far into a conversation with a guy like this. Maybe it was the shitty beer or the high of the show, but you felt a bit daring and accepted. You and Jungkook sat down on the old, scratched-up leather sofa found in the back of the bar. It seemed the other members badly packed up most of their belongings, as one of them ran around the room grabbing what was left. “Shouldn’t you help?” You wondered aloud and Jungkook only shrugged as he handed you a beer.

“They’re fine, right Jimin?” The member looked over at you two, taking in your presence for a second before smiling.

“Of course, we’re done here. See you later Jungkook.” He threw a wink in your direction before grabbing the last bag and hurrying out.

“Isn’t that your ride home?” You fiddled with your beer bottle as Jungkook opened his up and moved to take yours and do the same.

“I have my own. Don’t worry so much Y/n.” You nodded and looked around the small back room. Pressed on the other side of the room were some boxes and storage space, a rack with some old clothing, and a small television set up on a counter that ran along the wall. There was a table riddled with empty and half drank bottles and glasses, from the band you presumed. The back door was cracked open with a brick, so the cold draft still hit you. The place smelled old and dusty, liquor lingering in the air as you listened to the shuffle of staff cleaning up in the front. You and Jungkook talked for a bit, mainly about the show and his band and you told him a little about yourself. How you were in university across town and were just trying to get out with some friends who ended up leaving you behind. At first, you hadn’t been sure how hanging out with him would go, unsure if you had enough in common to talk, but it turned out to be easy. Jungkook, despite all the tattoos and strong build, seemed pretty nice. Of course, deep down you kept yourself aware of why you were here. You were pretty positive that Jungkook hadn’t asked you to stay behind with him just to talk, there had to be other intentions. Hoping for a hookup you assumed and while you weren’t sure what exactly you were doing here, it felt oddly right.

“So, your boyfriend didn’t care that you came to such a shitty bar alone?” You watched Jungkook as he stood up and walked to the door. He kicked the brick out of place and opened it all the way, sitting down in the doorframe.

“I don’t have a boyfriend to be mad at me” you sighed, “broke up like a month ago.”

“Seriously?” He looked back at you, brushing his dark locks away. “What dumbass would break up with you?” You laughed and got up to join him in the doorway, watching as he fiddled with something in his hands as you sat down. He pulled a lighter out and lit the blunt in hand, looking over at you before offering. “Want a hit?”

You stared at him for a second before smiling, “you first.” He complied, bringing it to his lips and inhaling. He glanced at you as he did so, holding it out for you next. You held his wrist to keep him from shaking against the cold and leaned to take a hit for yourself.

“You’ve never done this” he laughed, watching you sputter and cough, your face scrunching up at the unfamiliarity.

“Kind of?” You laughed, swatting at him as he blew smoke into your face.

“So tell me about him.”

“What?” “Your ex, tell me about him. He break your heart?” You scoffed, looked up at the building that towered above the two of you and to the night sky. Jungkook kept up smoking beside you, following your gaze lazily as he waited for your response. The truth was; you weren’t sure if you were heartbroken or not. The two of you had been distant for a while before breaking up, but there was still a certain sadness that sat within you. He was your first love and maybe if he had ended things sooner you’d be more upset. You were upset, but you felt more anger towards him than anything.

“He, uh- he broke up with me because he thought I was too boring.” You laughed. “He was always more of a party animal, you know? I don’t even know how he managed to make me fall for him way back when...you know he did it over text?”

“Shit, over text?” He raised his brows at you, a small grin curving his lips. “You must’ve been pissed.” He coughed through another hit. “So he thinks you’re boring? You don’t seem it. You should’ve seen yourself out there earlier, I thought you were wasted or something” he joked.

“Well, I don’t normally do this kind of thing. It was a last-minute decision to come.” You explained, taking a sip of your beer.

“I’m glad you did” Jungkook grabbed your hand to bring the bottle to his lips for a long swig. “You’re pretty cool.” You smiled, a bit taken back by the compliment. Jungkook held eye contact with you for a moment before his eyes drifted down to your lips and you can tell that he’s thinking about moving in closer, so you take the initiative and do it yourself. He’s just centimeters away from kissing you, his breath hitting your face, a mix of cologne, alcohol, and smoke hitting you. Before you know it his lips are on yours, cold and a bit rough upon touch. You can feel a swarm of butterflies eat at your stomach as you try to relax in his hold. His kiss is not at all the same as the ones you shared with your ex, it wasn’t inspired or felt like a chore; it was hot and a bit sloppily and sparks a new feeling of passion inside you.

Jungkook’s arm found its way around your waist, tugging your body closer to his while the other held the side of your face. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you feel a hand wander down to your thigh, resting a bit under the bottom of your dress as his chilled hands groped and pinched your flesh. Soon things begin to get more heated and you find yourself pulled into his lap while he kisses and sucks at your neck. You jump a little when you feel his hand slide down your waist and grab your ass. He smiles into your neck, breaking away to look at you. Your lips were shiny and red from the make out, your neck in a similar fashion as fresh hickies were making their mark. He looks at you intently, a desire behind his eyes that felt like had been forever since you experienced it. He’s practically undressing you with his eyes when he asks, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you nod immediately, living off the rush of hooking up with him- with anyone in so long. Jungkook grins and stands the both of you up, backing you against the wall and trapping you in another heated make-out session as his hands begin to wander over your body. Your back arches as he brushes over your chest, shuddering as he cups your breasts and squeezes firmly. His leg slips between your thighs, pressing against your pussy and rubbing the tiniest bit. You shifted under him, your face flushed as you felt yourself growing more and more worked up.

It felt like forever Jungkook continued playing and teasing you, but soon you felt his fingertips brush under your dress, fingers hooking around your panties and pulling them down. You reached to bunch your dress up farther for him, shivering as the cold air hit your sensitive skin. He squeezed your plush thighs, one hand slipping between your legs to touch you. “Cold?” He asked, amused as you squirmed under his touch, his fingers dragging up and down your slit a few times as he looked down at you, his eyes locked on yours as you merely shuddered and wiggled under him. His breath was hot against your skin as he went back to kiss at your neck, an air of neediness around the both of you as you moved your hips against his hand’s movements, hoping for some more attention rather than teasing. Jungkook’s forehead rested against your shoulder as he looked down at you, his face starting to flush in excitement as hard-on pressed against his jeans. Slowly he let two fingers dip into your pussy, taking in the feeling of you squirming and tensing slightly around him. You grabbed at his arm, panting and whimpering as he attacked your clit, rolling the bud between his fingers and pushing you to cum.

Feeling a bit impatient, Jungkook pulls away and ignores your whiny complaints. “Want me to fuck you?” He asks, not waiting for your answer as he works his jeans undone. “Turn around” he urges and you do so, your skin pressed against the rough of the bricks, leaving you to wince slightly, but ignore it as you feel his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You glance back at him, anticipation clear on your face until you feel the head of his dick press against your thigh before he adjusts himself to press into you. You gasp, a small groan hanging in your throat as he slowly pushes in. He takes in the sight of you bent over for him, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing under his touch. “Fuck, that’s it,” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, teasing as the edges of his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. You can feel his body over yours big and strong as he grips your hips tight, effortless moving you to meet his thrusts.

“J-Jungkook” You moan, writhing in pleasure and slight disbelief you were actually fucking a guy you just met. Your head turned at the sound of people walking by on the street. Suddenly struck with panic and the realization you were letting him fuck you in an alleyway. “There’s people-”

“Shh” Jungkook smirked, “better be quiet unless you want someone to hear you getting fucked.”

“But-” you gasped as he thrust into you again, snapping his hips rough and picking the pace up. You bit your bottom lip, trying to hold in the moans threatening to spill out of you.

“Don’t want anyone to see what a needy slut you are?” You dropped your head with a shake, whimpering as he reached to find your clit again, rubbing circles around your hardened nub. “You’re not doing a very good job” he commented

“Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice shaking before you let out a sudden, loud moan. It is almost hard for you to recognize yourself due to the desperation laced in your tone, need clouding your mind as you ate up the pleasure he was giving you. It felt like it had been months since the last time you really got off and despite the somewhat unorthodox situation, you were reveling in just how much it turned you on. “Only w-want you to see how much of a slut I am-” Your words fell off towards the end, drowned in your whines.

Jungkook eats up your words, grunting and groaning quietly to himself as he fucked into you. “Quiet, baby.” he mocks with a tease in his voice. You buried your face into your arms, clenching around Jungkook as you came, your stomach tensing up and moans muffled. “You’re so hot” Jungkook groaned, his hand running up your back and into your hair, fingers lacing themselves in your locks before tugging your face up so you were looking up. You squealed as he kept thrusting into you, shaking at how sensitive you felt. “I didn’t think you’d be so easy,” he commented, “but look at you, bent over all pretty for me.” Jungkooks voice was growing shaky, nearing his orgasm as he let go of your hair. “Where should I cum baby?”

“You can inside if you want” you breathed, breathless as you felt another orgasm nearing.

“Shit, really?” You could hear the grin in his tone as he pounded into you.

“I’m on the pill.” You moaned, a shaky please falling from your lips.

“Don’t worry baby,” he grunts “gonna fill you up.” You let out one last moan as Jungkook’s grip tightens on your hips and he stills his movements, shooting his load into you as he closes his eyes with a soft moan. You pant, taking in the feeling of his cum inside you, leaving you a dripping mess when he pulls out. He stands over you for a moment, catching his breath and admiring his work. “Fuck, so pretty,” you hear him murmur.

Eventually, the two of you find your way back inside, finding the restroom to clean up and come down from the romp you just had. Jungkook thought quiet helps you clean up and fix your dress. You take a few minutes to sit down and relax, you were feeling tired from the long night you had and you were sure Jungkook must’ve been as well since he had performed on stage as well. “Let me give you a ride home?” He turns to you as you gulp down some water.

“Well, it’s the least you can do, right?” You tease and Jungkook just smiles and leads you back outside. “Of course you have a motorcycle” you snorted, laughing in slight disbelief as he joined you.

“What else?” He asked, waiting for you to get the situation and wrap your arms around him. It was cold, but you closed your eyes as he drove, taking in the chill of fresh air and the soft rustle of the city around you. He took you home, dropping you off in front of your complex. He stopped you before you could leave, pulling out the sharpie and handing it to you. “Give me your number” he urged, letting you scribble it down on his hand.

“Call me sometime?”

He merely grinned with a lazy shrug, “Maybe.”

You watched him ride off from inside the lobby, chewing your lip as you went over the events of the night. “Whose boring now?” You laughed to yourself, the sadness your ex had left long forgotten.

You weren’t sure if Jungkook would call, but sure hoped he would.

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #bad boy jungkook #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #smut

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retrievablememories · 3 years

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matched | ten (m)

title: matched pairing: alien!ten x black!reader genre: sci-fi, angst, fluff, romance, smut summary: the quest for love leads you to a new dating app with a slight twist—and straight into the inbox of someone who’s light-years out of your usual dating pool. word count: 9.7k warnings: familial conflict, strained parental relationship, mentions of cheating, prejudice/discrimination based on species, body modifications/alien biology, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), dom!ten, photography during sex, cumshot, squirting, some spanking a/n: as always, i lose all impulse control whenever i get a ten request so i have finished this sooner than i expected

i decided to lean more into the romance plotline than stress too much over the realism of the science-fiction elements with this fic, so there are some inaccuracies/impossibilities...but that’s fiction for you 🙃

AM 2074 (After Migration)

You are lonely.

Your last breakup did not end well, to say the least, and you haven’t dated for a while since then. It seemed like a smart move—a safe one—to shun all romantic relationships until you felt ready again. At the beginning, you were glad to be alone for a while, to regroup and rediscover yourself worrying about another person’s opinions on everything you did. To not have to deal with someone else’s drama.

The toll of not having companionship is gradually getting to you, though. Even if your last relationship was a mess more often than it wasn’t, you still long for those good moments, like going on night dates on the weekends and sharing pillowtalk into long hours of the early morning. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed those things until all the emotions of it crashed down on you at once.

Your friend Malika claims to have a solution for your loneliness. Now, sitting at this outdoor cafe, you’re simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear what she has to propose, knowing her track record for silly plots.

With twinkling eyes, she looks at you and says, “You should try a dating app.” She clasps her hands together and puts them on the table like she’s made a grand announcement. You absorb her words for a few moments, looking out at the street across from you and watching cars—some hovering above the asphalt, some driven autonomously, and many still with human drivers—pass by.

You eventually sigh, your shoulders slumping. “That’s the big solution you called me out here for? People have been using dating apps for decades, that’s nothing new.”

“Exactly! The fact that they’re still popular even in 2074 is proof that they work, Y/N. You can put yourself out there and talk to dozens of guys without even meeting them in person. If one connection doesn’t work out, you don’t have anything to lose, and you don’t have to see the guy ever again.”

“Maybe I’ll lose my sweet time and patience during the process, though.”

Malika shakes her head and types something into her hologram pad, then holds it up for you to see. The hologram displays a dating app called matched—it reminds you of what Tinder was supposedly like before it became eclipsed by more advanced platforms, though that happened years before you were even born. “This one is kinda new, but it’s gotten popular fast and has good success rates. I’ve tried it before and met some nice guys. Give it at least one chance before you hate on it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know...there are always so many weirdos hanging out on those apps. What if I meet someone who keeps a collection of severed alien tentacles in an icebox in their house? Like that one guy who showed up on the news?”

“...Really?” Malika rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Stop getting in your own way and just take a risk for once.”

You shake your head at her optimism. “I’ll do it because I know you won’t leave me alone about it, but don’t expect me to find some great love story on this app.”

Once you download the app and start making an account, it becomes pretty obvious that this isn’t just a regular dating platform.

Choosing your gender and age preferences is normal enough, and you pass through those screens quickly until you get to one that gives you two new options.

➤ Species Preference ❐ Human ❐ Extraterrestrial

Whoa. Aliens? An alien-friendly dating app?

You weren’t overly familiar with the mechanics of dating apps, and you certainly didn’t consider that ones allowing aliens might’ve existed until now. It had been 15 years since the first contact with aliens was established, and a little less than a decade had passed since aliens began migrating to Earth and taking up permanent residence—and vice versa.

Humans had little problem with accepting aliens’ technological adaptations and claiming them as their own, though they were far less welcoming of the aliens themselves. That resulted in strained interactions between the two species, with aliens trying their best to assimilate and humans questioning their every motive. As far as personal relationships went, interspecies mingling between humans and extraterrestrials was still fairly uncommon—something that only people who were considered to be on the fringes of society participated in. There were “normal citizens of society” who built relationships with aliens, but many of them also kept it solely as a kink or fetish to be done only in the dark.

You decide to check both options. It feels a little scary, like diving headfirst into the unknown, but you are open to it either way. You’ve interacted with aliens before, both as kind acquaintances and near strangers, and they’ve always been relatively normal in the grand scheme of things—beings trying to survive and make a life for themselves like anyone else. Certainly not plotting how to take over Earth as many people have speculated. If they really wanted to, they possess the technology to have done that ten times over already.

You take a while trying to come up with a clever bio and spend an even longer time mulling over which pictures of yourself to choose, but you eventually complete your profile.

The first few matches you make are not very successful.

Whether it’s human guys feeding you terrible pickup lines or alien guys who can’t make it past the language barrier—or who ask you to move back with them to their home planet after two days of talking—you don’t see any potential love interests during your first two weeks of using the app.

You’re not sure what kind of skills Malika used to make multiple good matches, but maybe you need to interrogate her so you can sharpen your own. So you decide to do exactly that.

“Don’t give up on it just yet. Just be yourself—which also means not being afraid to cuss someone out if they come at you crazy. Some of these dudes lowkey like the mean girl shit, though, which is kinda weird.” Malika speaks from the shimmering translucent mirage of your hologram pad as you walk through the park one afternoon. She couldn’t make it out to meet you today, but you managed to snatch a moment to talk to her even if it couldn’t be face-to-face. “You probably shouldn’t expect to find a boyfriend in the first few days—”

“Girl, I don't think anyone was expecting that. Duh.”

“I’m saying, just give it time!”

“Okay, but listen. You didn’t tell me it’s also for aliens. Have you dated one before? You never told me!” You lower your voice then, not wanting anyone nearby to eavesdrop on your conversation and hear that part. You feel kinda bad for even thinking that way, but it’s hard to shake the stigma associated with interacting with aliens.

“Yes, and it was the best sex I ever had, but maybe I’ll tell you about that later.”

“Sis. Don’t withhold tea from me!”

“Someday when you’re not literally standing in the middle of the park, okay?” Malika shakes her head, smiling.

“Don’t forget about it, either.”

“I won’t. And you know what to do if you find a guy. I want to be the first to know!”

“Sure, sure. I wouldn’t hold my breath on it, though.”

You decide to spend some more time on the app after that conversation instead of just deleting it like you’d planned to initially. And one day, you get another new match that catches your eye out of the many others.

“Ten? Like the number…?” Besides the interesting name, you immediately see that he’s an extraterrestrial. From the Sommu race, as it says in his bio.

You click on his profile.

You’re a little surprised by how pretty he is, which isn’t to say the other aliens you matched with were all hideous. But he doesn’t have tentacles coming out of his face or two sets of eyes, either. The most noticeable thing about his alienness is his blue skin.

“Likes...dancing, art, music, okay so we have an artist type here...dislikes...fruit. Huh. That’s...interesting.”

The pictures of him on his profile are all deliberately artistic, as in they aren’t just some half-baked selfies he took with a hologram pad. You grow increasingly curious. It’s safe to say he’s either super into himself or just appreciates the art of good photography, and you figure there’s only one way to find out. You decide to take the first step and message him.

➤ Nice pictures :)

You don’t know when or if you’ll get a message back, since he’s not online when you send it, so you try not to get your hopes up too much. Maybe you should’ve tried to come up with something more cool and funny—nice pictures?—but you try to remember Malika’s advice and roll your eyes to yourself. There’s no point in getting stressed over a dude you don’t even know yet.

You eventually get a reply back from Ten.

➤ thank you 🙏 are you into photography too? you have talent for taking beautiful photos

You giggle quietly to yourself; another line, but it’s definitely one of the tamer ones you’ve received. Why not see where this one goes?

The first conversation you have consists mostly of the regular getting-to-know-you talk, such as your personal interests and favorite things. You get him to talk more about his photography hobby, which he’s eager to tell you all about—as well as his penchant for art.

To your optimism, you and Ten quickly get comfortable with each other. You soon forget about all the other potential matches you have, but those don't matter much to you anymore. So far, you’ve connected the most successfully with Ten, which means you’re more than glad to stop spending your time reading boring messages from guys who’ve only pretended to have things in common with you.

Things go so well, in fact, that he asks you to meet in person not long after you begin talking to each other.

For your first meetup, you decide to meet at a park nearby—the same one you’d been walking through the day you were talking to Malika about that very dating app. You and Ten have talked through the hologram pad on multiple occasions, so you’re more reassured that you’re not starting from scratch with some faceless being. Still, the thrill of seeing each other in person for the first time is undeniable.

“Y/N?” You turn your head at the sound of your name, and you see Ten walking towards you.

“Ten!” You give him a smile, waving at him. You feel a little more nervous than you usually would on a date, though you can’t tell if it’s the good kind of nervousness. You mostly chalk it up to not having been out with anyone in a while.

Ten’s just as pretty up close as he was in the photos and on camera, if not even more attractive; he’s breathtaking in the light of the sun. His hair is styled nicely, meticulously-place strands curling over his forehead, and his clothes perfectly outline his slim body. He looks pleased to see you, his lips curving into a coy smile.

“You could’ve given me a warning,” he says as he outstretches his arms to you. You hug him, but not without a questioning glance on your face. He is warm and smells good, like juniper, which almost makes you forget about your question.

“Warned you about what?”

“How you’re even more beautiful in person.” He says this at your ear before pulling away, and it makes the back of your neck bloom with heat.

“Oh, you’re laying it on thick.” You giggle nervously, shifting on your feet.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Yes, let’s go!”

You leave the park to go to an aquarium nearby, which is the biggest one in the city. You find out quickly that Ten is easily fascinated by the wide range of creatures there. Despite living on Earth for a few years now, he hasn’t seen a lot of them until now.

You walk through the blue-lit hallways together, surrounded by water everywhere you turn. You observe the different animals up close and from far away, reading information about them from the signs beside their tanks.

“What the hell is that?” Ten says through laughter, looking at the squished-up mouth of a stingray as it floats in front of the glass, baring its pale underside to you both.

“It’s a stingray!”

He scrunches his nose up. “It’s ugly. But kinda cute, too…”

You both end up staying at the aquarium longer than you expected, with Ten wanting to see practically every animal they had on display; plus, you got to see some you weren’t familiar with before either.

After visiting the aquarium, you go downtown—which is otherwise known as food truck central, where you can get pretty much anything you’re craving. This area is always quite busy this time of evening, especially on the weekends. Food in hand, you and Ten end up walking through a few of the quieter back streets where there’s not as many people—streets where the closely-packed buildings give way to the grassy yards and paved roads of nearby neighborhoods.

“Should we talk about our families now, or is it too soon?” you say jokingly. “You know, that seems to be the only thing we haven’t mentioned after talking about everything else under the sun.” You’re not entirely sure why you bring this up while knowing your own relationship with your parents isn’t great, but you are curious to hear about Ten’s family.

“I don’t really know mine,” he replies.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You feel a little bad about it, thinking there was definitely a reason why he never mentioned the topic.

Ten looks confused for a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. Sommu never form close bonds with their parents or siblings.”

You give him a curious look. “Why not?”

“Well, we aren’t born or raised the human way,” he explains. “Our parents have a bunch of us at once, raise us for the first couple of years, and then go off to reproduce again and continue the population.”

You’re startled at that. “Just for a few years? How do you survive?”

“We age faster...both physically and mentally. We become independent around 4 or 5 years old, and we can live without our parents.”

“That’s...definitely very different.” You try to wrap your mind around that information, though it’s difficult. Even with your not-so-healthy relationship with your parents, you couldn’t imagine having no family whatsoever at such a young age. You also can’t even begin to comprehend what it’d look like to be taking care of yourself at only 5 years old, fast aging or not. “But, you said a bunch at once...how is that possible?”

“We are formed inside things like eggs. It’s not like your form of childbirth. See?” And you become flustered when he lifts his shirt up to show his lack of a belly button, right there in the middle of the street.

“Uh, wow.”

“The human concepts of ‘family’ and ‘relationships’ are...very new to me.” He seems a little embarrassed to admit this. “That’s why I, um, joined a dating app, for more experience...I was told I need to learn to be more…” He searches for the word. “Im...pertinent?”

“...Empathetic?”

“Yeah, that.”

“So, did that come from a previous partner, or…?”

“Yeah, I’ve had two relationships since I’ve been here.” He seems wistful now, maybe a little sad. “They didn’t work out well. Maybe we were too different.” Before the mood can shift too far into negativity, Ten turns to you with a soft smile. “But maybe that’s not the kind of thing you want to hear while we’re on a date.”

You shake your head and smile. “I don’t mind, it’s interesting to know about.” More than interesting. You want to ask him a hundred more things about what his life was like when he first got to Earth. “Anyway, you can never have too many new starts in life. Let’s enjoy this one.”

At the end of your date, Ten walks with you back to your place. It’s almost midnight at this point, with you both walking all the way back from downtown. You’d drawn more than a few skeptical stares over the course of the day, but you both did your best to ignore those and just focus on each other.

“I’m really glad we got to go out today, it was fun,” you say, hugging your arms to yourself to shield against the cool spring breeze.

“I think I haven’t had that much fun in a while,” he agrees. Ten smiles wide then, the tip of his tongue sticking out from between his teeth, and you have to do a double take.

“What—”

“Oh, that. Sometimes I forget everyone doesn’t have this...” And when he sticks his tongue out, you see clearly now that it’s split halfway down the middle. Sort of like how a snake’s would be. “D’you like it?” His expression is wicked when he asks this, and a strange heat sweeps through your body.

“Wow.” You cringe at your lackluster answer, but that’s the only thing you can muster up at the moment, too busy internally questioning yourself. You’ve seen body modders with split tongues in documentaries and on the internet, but it’s never appealed to you like this before, and you don’t know what to do with that new realization.

“It’s okay, it takes some getting used to.” He gives you a smile that might be called innocent by anyone else, but to your eyes it’s quite obvious he’s proud about making you flustered.

“Getting used to...yeah, I’m sure.” There are about 15 different questions you want to ask him about that, too, but you aren’t going there on the first date.

“So...can I expect to see you again?”

“Of course.” You smile again at the hopeful note in his tone. “Just let me know whenever you want to go out again.”

Before Ten leaves, he places a hand on your shoulder and kisses you on the cheek. It’s a simple and short kiss, but it still makes you blush beneath your brown skin.

You wave goodbye to him from your doorstep as he goes, feeling like you’ve finally done something right for the first time in a long time.

You’d taken a chance with dating an extraterrestrial, someone so different from yourself and your species, and you figured it would be a new experience. Obviously. What you did not bet on, however, was the idea that you’d fall for Ten so fast.

After three months of dating exclusively, you feel like you could say you love him, which is frighteningly quick for you; though you don’t tell him this yet.

You’ve decided to bring him to meet your family. The idea frightens you, because your parents have never been very receptive to the aliens’ migration. But you are still holding out some hope that maybe they’ll realize all their assumptions were wrong, and that you’ve found a nice man who you love and who you’re sure loves you just as much. Whether he’s human or not shouldn’t matter.

You manage to set a date when all your schedules match up so you can bring Ten over to your parent’s house. Ten is nervous—more nervous than he was when you went on your first date—which you find a little surprising. You’ve gotten used to him being the one who you can lean on, who always seems to know the right answer.

“Do you think it will go well?” he asks, his tone implying he’s not confident of the answer.

“I hope so.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring and squeeze his hand.

When your parents open the door, there’s visible surprise on their faces. You’d already told them your boyfriend was not human, which drew doubtful responses when you first said it, but they’re acting as if they never knew that information—as if this is the first time they’re seeing an alien, period.

“Um…hi, mom, dad.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ten says, though his own tone is overly formal, like he doesn’t know how he should speak. “I’m Ten.”

Your parents pause for a few moments longer. Finally, the awkward quiet is broken. “We thought you were just messing,” your dad says, though he steps out of the way to let you both come in, if a bit reluctantly.

“I—no.” You’re uncertain how to respond to that, though you don’t feel optimistic about what it entails. Your mother doesn’t say anything at all, just stares at you and Ten like you’re both strangers who’ve just waltzed in uninvited. She goes back in the kitchen to finish dinner once the door is closed, not saying anything to either one of you, and you already feel a cold pit settling in the bottom of your stomach.

Your dad sits in the living room with you and Ten, and another awkward silence ensues as your dad gives a stiff smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. He clasps his fingers together and pulls them apart repeatedly, like they’ll give him the answers for what’s going on.

“This is just a fling, right? Of course you won’t be staying with this ma—” Your dad almost says man but then stutters, thinking maybe the term isn’t appropriate since Ten isn’t human. He makes a vague gesture to fill in the space of the missing word.

“It’s not a fling,” you say, feeling like you’ve had cold water poured down your back. You’re sitting straight and still on the couch, and it’s not comfortable, but you’re too tense to move. Ten is almost equally stiff beside you.

“Y/N, we just want you to make good decisions for yourself.” That’s what your dad says out loud, though the look in his eyes finishes the rest of that sentence: And I don’t think this is a good decision.

“I am,” you insist. “I don’t need to be told that over and over again.”

“Me and Y/N are happy together,” Ten explains, and your dad seems a little shocked that he’s decided to speak.

“Do you truly think you’re what she needs?” your dad asks. You’re not sure what makes you more angry; the question itself, or the fact that he keeps his tone non-accusatory and light, as if he’s only asking something like where do you work? Like the answer doesn’t matter because he’s already made up his mind.

“As long as Y/N wants to keep seeing me, there’s no reason to stop our relationship.”

A sound of displeasure comes from your mother in the kitchen, and your skin prickles. Your dad nods to Ten’s answer, but he does so in a way that conveys he just wants this conversation to be over rather than consider anything that was said.

You deeply regret not leaving straight after that failed discussion, but you soon find out just how bad it can get once you all make it to the dinner table. Your mother is chillingly silent for the first half of the dinner, acting like neither you nor Ten exist, while your dad attempts to make awkward small talk about how things are going.

There comes a point where you can no longer handle the cold sweat and the nerves, and you put your utensils down. Not that you had much of an appetite anyway.

“Why won’t you even talk to me?”

Your mother glares. “You can’t guess? What kind of question is that to ask?”

You falter. You don’t know why she always does this to you. Ask ridiculous rhetorical questions that you both already know the answer to. Now you must sit here and explain why you asked like it isn’t already obvious.

“I’m visiting after I haven’t been here in a while. With my boyfriend. I thought...I don’t know. The least you could do—” Your mother shakes her head at the word “boyfriend,” and you already know everything else you said went in one ear and out the other.

“I still don’t know why you didn’t just stay with Christian?” she interrupts. “He had a decent job, came to see us often, and was NOT an alien.”

“But he cheated on me,” you say, a sickness rising in you.

“That’s what men do sometimes, Y/N. You deal with it and move on. You’re supposed to be strong—fix whatever is making him do it.”

You and Ten exchange a tense look, and there is clear confusion whirling in his eyes, but you don’t say anything to each other. “That relationship is over. I’m trying to do something for myself for once, not whatever you think I should do.” Even saying those words makes you internally recoil, unsure of what the reaction will be, but you don’t take them back.

“You may be an adult but we’re still your parents. Frankly, you need to be with a man of your own race and species—not this blue Martian here. How would you even have kids?”

Ten gives a humorless laugh, like he wants to respond but doesn’t want to make the situation worse or offend you. “You know what, I should just leave,” he says abruptly, rising from his seat.

You get up quickly after he does, but your mom slams her hand on the table. “Y/N, you better not walk out of here.”

You feel defeated and exhausted, like you always do when dealing with your parents and their objections to every single thing you do, but you decide not to give in this time. “Stop treating me like I’m still a child, ma.”

“What does being an adult matter when you still act childish? Don’t come back here crying when this doesn’t work out. I’ve already warned you more than enough.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“So now you think you know better than me, when you couldn’t even keep a man the first time around.”

“This is hopeless,” you sigh, feeling wounded and angry at all these cheap shots.

“Y/N, please just listen to your mother for once…” your dad interjects, but you try your best to ignore their protests as you grab your things and follow Ten to the door. You can still hear your mother’s angry complaints as you close the front door behind you, though you’re surprised—but grateful—that neither of them attempt to follow you outside.

The ride back home is uncomfortable and mostly quiet.

“I’m sorry, Ten,” you say, feeling like you’ve been frozen from the inside out despite it being nearly summer. You’re near tears when you speak. Ten shakes his head, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

“It’s not your fault…” he replies weakly, though his words aren’t very persuasive to either of you.

He still walks you up to your door when you arrive back at your place, trailing slightly behind you. The night air is distractingly humid, wrapping around the both of you like a physical thing. Neither of you know what to say to each other.

When you get to your front door, you turn to look at him. “I shouldn’t have made you come. I should’ve known...”

“I wanted to come,” he points out. “You didn’t make me do anything.” Ten’s tone isn’t outright harsh, but the words are noticeably sharp. Maybe he realizes it, because his face softens as if he’s said something wrong.

You nod. It’s as if there’s a mountainous gap between you two that you just can’t cross right now. “I get it.” You say this almost mindlessly, because you’re not sure what you’re getting, exactly. Your hand rests on the doorknob. You don’t want to end the night on this awkward and painful note, but neither of you are making any progress with this lack of a real conversation. Maybe now isn’t the right time to try to talk about it.

“I think...I’ll just go home tonight.” You expected he’d say that, but the words still make your heart hurt, even if you don’t want them to. He looks like he might say something else, but he just gives you a small nod before starting off.

“Ten…” You don’t know what you want to ask of him or tell him, if anything, but his name slips from your lips like it’s something you can’t keep inside.

Ten stops for a moment and turns back to you. He steps closer again, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss on the lips. When he pulls back, his eyes hold you in place.

He mumbles, “I’m not mad at you,” before leaving.

More than anything, you want to know how Ten is doing, but you’re too ashamed to contact him for the first couple days after that mess of a night. Maybe he thinks you’re just like your parents and doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. His reassurance at the door wasn’t enough to soothe your worries, and you end up tearing yourself up internally over it—repeatedly recalling the warmth of his lips and wondering if that’s maybe the last time you’ll ever feel it.

Similarly, nothing but radio silence comes from his end. He doesn’t respond even after you finally muster up the nerve to send him a text—a short text, but still a message all the same—and you fear he must really be done with you.

On Ten’s part, he does have one justification for it; he’s preoccupied with dealing with the avalanche of unpleasant memories and emotions that incident resurfaced. Everything about what your parents said and how they looked at him reminds him of his past and ongoing struggles with trying to assimilate on Earth.

Even though he’s often very sure of himself and what he wants, he begins wondering if he’s “enough” for you. Maybe you’ve just been humoring him this whole time, or you’ve decided your parents are right and you’d be better off with another human.

Those thoughts keep him up into the early morning hours, and he soon realizes he doesn’t want to let you go. In fact, he’s not sure what he’d do with himself if you decided to walk out of his life right now, and the idea of it makes him ill. Which makes him feel even more foolish for tuning you out.

Ten’s anxiety over losing you culminates in him standing on your doorstep again after almost a week of emptiness and not knowing how you were thinking or feeling—which has been killing him in its own way.

You’re not quite sure how to feel when you open the door and see him on the other side, but relief shoulders its way to the forefront.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“Can you please—”

You both speak at the same time, your words breaking afterwards.

“You can talk first,” Ten says.

“Come in.” You let him in the door, and the words start spilling before you know how to stop them. “Ten, I-I’m...really sorry. I should’ve known better than to put you in that situation, but I thought…” Your words trail off. You don’t want to let him know just how desperate you still are for your parents’ approval sometimes. Even though it’s a fruitless case. “I just wanted it to go well. I want things to work now, for us. I really, really want things to work for us.”

Ten surprises himself with how quickly he moves to take you in his arms before the last words have even finished settling in his mind. He hugs you tightly. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want me anymore,” he whispers, like he’s telling you something forbidden.

“That couldn’t happen.” You’re saddened he’d come to that conclusion. “But...it’s not fair for you to leave me in the dark, either. I want to help you...so would you please let me?”

Ten squeezes you a bit tighter, as if you might disappear from his arms. “I’m sorry I ghosted you...it brought back bad memories of how things were when I first got here. When people were more open about treating me like some kind of enemy. I didn’t know how to deal with it.” You tuck your chin into his shoulder and listen to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sound of his words. “Y/N, I’m not sure if I’m very good at love, or if I even know enough about it. Maybe the others were right and I’m kidding myself with something I’ll never properly learn. But, I…” His voice cracks. “I-I think I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Entirely overwhelmed, you answer his admission with a long kiss, cupping his face in your hands. His response to your kiss is automatic, the knots of tension unraveling in your embrace.

“I love you, Ten,” you whisper against his lips after you separate. Here and now, it doesn’t feel too soon at all; there couldn’t be a better time to say it. His expression is a lot of things at once. Relief, happiness, contentment...he’s blushing, but it shows up as a darker blue on his already blue skin. When he smiles, it turns his whole face into a picture of joy.

“I want to go away.” Quietly, you tell him this as you rest your head in his lap.

You’re both lying on your couch, the room dim and the sound of rain occupying the silence. A downpour started coming down soon after Ten got to your place. You’ve sat there just like that and listened to the rain on the windows for the past couple hours, not wanting to do anything else or separate from each other. You knew he wouldn’t want to go home, and you didn’t even have to ask him to stay.

Ten’s been petting your hair the whole time. The motion of his fingers in your kinky strands makes you sleepy, but now the movements pause at your words.

“Go where?” he asks.

“Away from all this. My parents hate me, and they won’t let me have any peace as long as I’m with you. I just want to go away for a while.” Despite you overflowing with love after finally getting your feelings out in the open, the thought of your parents’ disapproval has lingered steadily in the recesses of your mind. You close your eyes against the tears that begin to well up. Ten’s quiet for a few more moments, and then begins stroking your head again.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

A few tears fall despite you trying to keep them in, and your eyelids flutter when you feel Ten’s fingers on your face, wiping them away. “Then we’ll go away.”

Ten’s homeland is a planet where the sun—or rather, a star called Proxima Centauri that’s much like the sun—is always out, no matter what time of day it is. There are days where it rains or gets cloudy, but night never falls and the star never dips any lower in the sky, always staying pinned in that same spot like a tack on a corkboard. That everlasting light throws your body clock off, and combined with this weird new form of jet lag associated with space travel, you are a mess for the first week or so after your arrival.

Ten makes a few jokes about fragile human bodies, but for the most part he tends to you as best as he knows how and tells you stories about how he grew up to get your mind off the discomfort. He feeds you these neon green drinks that don’t look like anything on Earth you’ve had before, and although they do make you feel better, you begin to think maybe you should’ve had a wellness plan before running off-planet.

You aren’t the only human who’s ever visited or even lived there, though, which gives you reassurance about adjusting to everything. By now, there’s a small population of human beings living here due to the interplanetary exchange initiated by Earth.

Before you left, Ten told you he had a small home in his homeland. You didn’t quite expect to hear this, since he’d been on Earth for a while now and had no family to return to. Though he’d migrated, he still expected to come back to his planet every so often, if only to visit. Now was as good a time as any.

Although many differences exist, the scenery is much like Earth’s; there are ecosystems with plants and animals and other living beings—like the Sommu themselves. Ten’s homeland is not filled with wall-to-wall technology like you’d expect an alien city to be, based on the small examples you’ve seen on Earth. You might compare it to the tropics back on Earth, with the Sommu yielding to nature’s rightful place in their ecosystem instead of clearing out whole forests or continually mining for resources. Ten is amused by your struggle to comprehend the newness and unfamiliarity of it all.

When you feel good enough to explore, he starts taking you to the beach often. It looks mostly like any other beach, but there are large coral forms that grow out of the ocean, reaching up towards the impossibly blue and constantly illuminated sky. Because there is no moon to guide the tides, the water is eerily still, the surface mirror-like—like a huge lake or pond that extends in almost every direction for miles. You’d almost believe it was a mirror if you hadn’t seen a bird-like creature skimming across the surface as it flew by, creating fleeting ripples.

You swim around a little in the still waters after Ten convinces you that you aren’t going to turn into a fish or something equally scary. He has to hold both your hands the entire time to get you to step in, and he doesn’t let go until you’re confident enough to explore the water on your own.

“Just focus on me, okay?” His smile is bright and shining against his blue skin, and he looks you directly in the eyes as he backs into the water, breaking the surreal stillness of it with his movements. “It’s just like the water on Earth.”

“Okay, okay,” you say uncertainly, gripping his hands and stepping in tentatively. The water does feel like any other water you’ve touched throughout your life, which helps you calm down slightly. His hands stay tight around yours as you get waist-deep into the water.

When you’re finally able to let go of him, he claps his hands more enthusiastically than the situation probably calls for. “Yay, you’re a big girl now!”

You roll your eyes at him. “You’re not funny, Ten.”

On a bright afternoon, Ten lets you into a room of his house you haven’t entered before. You’ve passed by this shining white door several times, but it’s always remained firmly shut until now.

“What’s in here?” you ask as you hold his hand.

“That’s what I’m going to show you.” He laughs and pushes the door open.

You think it’s a darkroom at first, seeing nothing but dim light and the shiny surfaces of what looks like photographs as your eyes adjust. But when he touches his hand to a panel on the wall and the lights come on, you realize it’s not a darkroom. More like a small gallery for all his pictures.

The “pictures” are physical, but they aren’t like the old Polaroids or film photos that have begun fading out of existence on Earth. They’re small crystalline squares that play eternally-moving videos on their glossy surfaces—a bit different from the translucent holograms Earth adopted. You step further into the room to look at them. It’d probably take days to explore them all, there are so many. Different scenes play out as soundless movies, and when you look for long enough, you realize they’re split into different categories. Numerous events within a life.

Many are of the beach, other scenic places around his homeland, oddly-shaped buildings, and plants in colors that there are no names on Earth for. You step closer to one of the walls to look at the collection of images more closely. You actually do “recognize” a select few, linking them together with old memories Ten had shared with you only weeks ago. There’s so much happening in these small snippets of time, so many stories you haven’t yet heard, that you feel like you could look at them forever and not get enough.

“This is...something else.” Your words seem inadequate, but you don’t quite know how to express your sheer wonder.

“I could take some of you,” Ten suggests, from somewhere behind you. “I want to.”

You glance back at him. “Hm, yeah.”

“I’m serious.” Ten comes up behind you to clasp his arms around your waist. He tucks his chin into your shoulder. His lips are close at your neck, and you let them linger there. One of your hands goes to his own hand that’s over your waist, and you run your fingertips over his knuckles as you gaze at the photo wall before you. “I think you’d be the perfect muse.”

“You could do that.” You’re still entranced with it all, and you already know you’ve made up your mind to let him take as many photos of you as he wants.

The next time you go to the beach, Ten takes some photos of you standing near the huge coral forms—or at least as close as you are willing to get—and he laughs at your lingering hesitation.

Still, the crystalline photos he takes of you are the embodiment of perfection. When you look over them later, watching yourself twirl around and strike silly poses in the water, you can almost hear the sound of your laughter twining together and feel the warmth of a star that’s not the sun on your skin.

“What if we stayed here?”

You ask Ten this while you’re lying in his bed, watching a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ceiling. The bedroom window is open to allow the breeze to come in. The ceiling of the bedroom—and every other room in the house—is more like an ever-changing reflection of shapes and colors than an actual ceiling. You might compare it to a mirror, like the surface of the ocean, but you think it’s much more complex than that. Sometimes you can see the distorted outline of yourself in it, like a funhouse mirror. Other times, you see the sky above.

Ten lies beside you with one hand behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, and he turns his head to look at you.

“Stayed?”

“If we just decided not to...go back to Earth.”

He pauses for a few moments. “Is that a good idea? You have a whole life there...and your friends…” Ten doesn’t mention your family, which you are grateful for.

You sigh. Nothing like a quick injection of reality after letting your imagination get ahead of you. “We’d have to go back. I’d have to tell them goodbye. And sort some other things out. Maybe it wouldn’t happen right now. But, after I do everything I need to do on Earth...maybe I could migrate here.”

“That’s a big decision to make...and it should be yours to decide.” Ten pauses again, like he’s weighing his words. “You know I don’t have many connections on Earth…” In other words, leaving Earth and returning home for good might not be as big of a deal for him as it would be for you.

You sit up and look out the window, seeing how the warm wind stirs the trees outside. “I want to.” You say it almost inaudibly, your words nearly carried off by the breeze. You turn back to him only to find him already there, sitting across from you and looking at you closely. Your faces are only inches from each other’s as he searches your eyes. “What do you want to do?”

“I’ll do anything you want to.” Ten’s voice is earnest, like he’d follow you to Hell and back if you asked, and you believe him.

Resting your hand on his cheek, you kiss him.

This kiss is a little different from the ones you’ve shared before—more yearning. More desperate. You kiss like there won’t be enough time to do all the things you want to do with each other—to each other. His split tongue bumps against yours, caresses it, and it causes a shiver to go down your spine, like it always does.

You end up lying back on the bed again with Ten’s body crowding yours in, legs tangling together and hips pressing against one another’s. Neither of you have made a move to take the other’s clothes off yet, but then he separates from your lips for a long moment and studies your features, from your eyebrows down to your mouth.

“Touch yourself for me.”

Your mouth drops open slightly.

“I want to see it.” He takes one of your hands and guides it up under your skirt and between your legs, pressing your fingers against your sex through your underwear, and you look at him with wide eyes, taking a deep breath. He lets go of your hand, and you keep yours right where it is. You’re slightly nervous about his black gaze trained on you, unrelenting and prying, but you begin to move your hand anyway.

Over your underwear, you press your finger between your lower lips, sliding between them and over your clit, and a little tremor goes through your body. You find yourself getting wet more quickly than you normally would with Ten watching you as you tease your entrance. You breathe a little heavier but make no sound yet. One of Ten’s hands reaches out for your ankle, though he doesn’t do anything other than keep his fingers there, a light touch that keeps passing back and forth over your ankle bone.

You circle your fingers across your clit more insistently, your legs tensing as the pleasure mounts higher. Ten’s lips part as he watches you, a heavy breath escaping from his chest. The hand on your ankle slides higher up your leg, just below your thigh, like he wants to slide his fingers into the mix and take over, but he doesn’t make a move to do so just yet.

Finally, Ten reaches under your skirt to pull your sticky panties off, sliding them slowly down your legs and leaving them somewhere on the floor. You want him to touch you again, the brush of his hands against your hips not enough, but he doesn’t grant your desire. “Keep going,” he says, leaning back on his hands, and you can see he’s growing hard.

You bring your hand back to its original place between your thighs, sliding through the wetness more easily and shuddering when your fingertips graze over your clit. You slide a finger into yourself then. A small moan slips out, and you close your eyes, but Ten’s fingers pinch your chin—not enough to hurt, but the sudden touch makes you look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” His thumb presses into your lower lip, and he stares at your mouth for a moment like he’s imagining sliding something hard and hot between your lips.

Ten kisses you on the lips again, and this time he trails the kisses down your body until he’s gripping your thighs on either side of his face. You pause in your movements when he reaches the junction of your thighs, and you watch as he grabs your hand and slips your finger out of yourself. He sucks the slick digit into his mouth, and you cannot tear your eyes away from him.

He lets your hand go and pulls you a few inches closer to his face, dragging you across the bed, and you can barely get your bearings back to sit up again when he slips his tongue through your lower lips. You moan, and he responds to that by repeating it again, catching your clit between the split in his tongue, and wiggling both sides.

“Oh Jesus...oh fuck.” Your hands go to Ten’s hair, pulling on it as you push your hips closer to his mouth, your back curving up. He is alluring tucked between your thighs like this, teasing and sucking your clit with his split tongue and prodding his fingers at your hole until he chooses to slide two of them inside.

His free hand keeps you close against his face as he eats you out, that wondrous tongue sliding against the most sensitive part of your body and making you gasp with boundless pleasure. Little droplets of moisture bead at the corners of your eyes from how good it feels, your stomach tensing and releasing as you try your best to keep still.

He has to keep his grip on your body tight when you come, as you try to squirm away from his tongue because of how stimulated you are. He only lets you go after he’s satisfied himself with licking up all the wet that’s spilled from you.

Then he strips your skirt off for you, because he knows you’re not quite in a state to do it for yourself right now. He peels the rest of your clothes off similarly, which doesn’t take much time or effort to do; you’ve dressed lightly for the weather.

Ten looks at you lying beneath him on the bed, his gaze stuck somewhere between awe and lust.

He slips out of his own clothes with a certain practiced ease. Yes, he’s really blue everywhere. He looks mostly human-like everywhere, too, except for the lack of a belly button.

Ten kisses you deeply as he slips into you, and you clutch at his sides. He tries to keep his pace slow at first, maybe for your sake or to just savor how it feels, but he gives into the feeling of you squeezing around him and starts thrusting into you faster. There is already sweat sliding down to his jaw, though you think it might be because of the heat, too.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” comes out of you in a voice you hardly recognize as your own.

His pelvis sliding against your clit from the proximity of your bodies makes you curl your fingers into the strands of his hair, wanting to touch every part of him you can. His lips go to the sweat-slicked skin of your shoulder, leaving little wet kisses behind as he wraps an arm around your waist and simply fucks into you, his shaft dragging against your walls.

He eventually separates himself from your neck, though it comes with some effort, to gaze at your face again. However, he finds that your eyes have drifted shut.

“Do you wanna come?” Ten asks, softly, gently, like you might break apart if he speaks too loud.

You’re a little winded from how he’s thrusting into you and can’t yet see the motive behind this question—because of course you do—but you answer with a shaky “I-I want to.”

“Then don’t look away from me.” His voice becomes harsher on these words.

“I…” Your lips move without any real words behind them as he thrusts into you harder, sinking all the way into you before pulling out to the tip. You want do what he’s just told you, but you find it difficult with the way he’s intent on burying himself into you, his eyes piercing into your own. “Mmm, I-I…”

You don’t know if you can, but the way he’s kindling your rising heat with each thrust makes you want to try very, very hard. Ten keep his hands on the sides of your face so you cannot look anywhere but at him.

The pleasure bears down on you more with each second, and you try to keep your breathing steady as another climax approaches.

“You’re almost there, come on baby,” he coaxes you, sloppily kissing the corner of your mouth before slipping his tongue in again. The way you gasp against his lips and tighten around him signals him to your orgasm, and he sits back to watch it play across your face, smirking at how you moan his name desperately.

Ten’s continued thrusts make you shiver from the flood of sensations overcoming your body, and you whimper at his movements until he pulls out and comes on your abdomen.

Ten gives you time to recover after you come down from your second orgasm, though he makes sure to lay a few more enamored kisses on your weakened body. He gets off the bed and exits the room after that. You don’t bother to ask where he’s going, because you know he’ll be back anyway.

When Ten comes back, he has his camera with him. The teasing tilt of his lips never leaves his face as he points it towards you. He takes a photo of you lying on his bed nude, with the breeze coming in and rustling the tree leaves and your hair, your skin shining bronze under the light of the eternal star. Then he comes closer, making the bed sink under his weight, and nudges your legs apart. He takes more photos of your lower stomach glistening with sweat and his cum—and photos of him sliding his slender fingers between your thighs and bringing you careening into another bout of euphoria.

The camera is soon forgotten after you come again. Ten climbs fully back onto the bed now and pulls you into his lap. His dick is hard again, and the length of it nudges against your lower lips, making you whimper from how sensitive you still are. He shushes you with a kiss and lifts your hips so he can slide into you, his shaft nudging that soft spot inside you and making you grip onto his arms.

You’re too mushy and dazed to do anything but let him push his hips up into you while you cling to him, your head lolling back. Ten’s mouth goes to the open expanse of your neck, and he wets your skin with his tongue.

The kaleidoscope of shapes above you on the ceiling morphs into one glistening reflection, throwing the blurred shapes of your bodies back to you. It’s like looking through a dense fog. You’re a little caught off guard by it, and you stare up at your nude forms. Ten looks up as well to see the cloudy figure of you cradled in his lap, and he only grins and thrusts up into you harder and smacks your ass in reply.

He grinds into you while he has you sitting full on his dick, and you think he must have set off your internal “reset” button somewhere between landing slaps on your ass and repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your mind is blissfully, amazingly blank. The only clear thing you can distinguish is how he feels in and around you.

When you come this time, it comes with a gush of wetness that makes Ten whisper several smug praises into your ear for being such a good girl and making a mess on him.

As you quickly find out, Ten’s refractory period seems to be nonexistent, while his stamina is overflowing.

Ten knows how to mix the pain with pleasure in a way that enhances both feelings, and you don’t know if you’ve ever experienced anything more perfect. One moment, he’ll say something romantic and fairytale-like to you before shoving your head into the pillow and taking you from behind in the next moment, pulling one of your arms behind you for leverage as he thrusts into you hard. You want him to do whatever he desires to you, and so you let him hammer into you until you think your hips and ass will be bruised by the next morning.

You’ve never knew that sex could be so carnal and so loving at the same time, but this is all of those things, and it makes you feel so full that you could split at the seams. You scream, cry, and moan more times than you can count, so enveloped by pleasure that it seems like the atoms of your body will simply dissolve from the intensity.

When you both finally become too exhausted to continue, it’s still daytime. Of course. But Ten draws the blackout shade forward and seals all the light out, and so you know it must be time to sleep. Time blends together here. Even if it’s not yet the midnight hour, it will be as long as you deem it so.

“Come here,” he says, and rolls you over on the bed so you don’t have to sleep in the wet spot. You grin in sleepy amusement against his neck as he hugs you to his body. “Let’s stay right here.”

You know he’s talking about sleeping for the next few hours, but you can also imagine he’s referring to your new life—one you’ll create together.

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writerofshit · 3 years

Text

(I mentioned briefly a story of how the Stream Team met. This is that story.)

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the late night hours of a Tuesday, a convenience store is robbed. So is one several blocks southeast. And one roughly in the middle of them both. After all, what's more convenient than 24 hour chili dogs on every other street corner?

Cash. Cash is more convenient. So are guns. Hollering, waving one to get the other. Most important, back alleys that twist and turn, snaking away from increasingly distant sirens. Three individuals find themselves running through these alleys, a couple grand each weighing their pockets down.

It's through serendipity and convenience that their paths cross.

The man from the farthest store arrives first. He's done this a few more times than he'd like to admit, so he'd had a plan. Of sorts. Cut through the park, take a few sidewalks like an upstanding citizen, under the bridge and find a fire escape to utilize from there. There aren't any that reach the ground, of course, because he's smart but not quite enough.

And so this is why Trevor is standing in an dark alley, contemplating whether or not the dumpster will give him enough height to reach the ladder, when the man from the middle store appears. He's around Trevor's height, but would probably win in a fight between them, if he were so inclined. He doesn't seem to be, though. He seems shaken, like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this alley. He's holding a gun almost gingerly, as if it might bite him.

Trevor pulls his own gun.

'dont you fuckin' try anything!'

This does not go over well with Matt. He takes a step back, and then seems to remember that he also has a gun so maybe this is even footing. He holds it aloft, finger nowhere near the trigger.

'same, asshole!'

At this moment the robber from the first store arrives, also, of course, with a gun. And a mask. And an entire purple and orange neon fucking suit, actually, topped with a white cowboy hat. It gives them a few extra inches of height they are distinctly lacking, comparatively. Somewhere in the back of his head, Trevor acknowledges that this newcomer could probably kick his and the other gunman's asses. It is not a pleasant thought.

'oh, what the fuck!?'

Jeremy sounds more annoyed and less scared than one would think, considering they've run into an alley only to find two men with guns. Two men who quickly turn those guns on them.

'who the fuck are you?'

The question surprises them all, including Matt, even though he's the one who asked. As it turns out, people have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind when in a stressful situation. Such as, having robbed a convenience store for the very first time and immediately finding himself face to face with other apparent robbers. It would get to anyone, probably.

'i don't want any trouble, but i've already robbed someone tonight and i don't give a shit about felony murder!'

Two lies and a truth, is what Trevor has chosen to play, for some reason. In reality, one does not rob a convenience store at gun point if one is intent on staying out of trouble. And he does, in fact, care very deeply about felony murder. Felony murder is the precise reason he'd shot a bag of Doritos and not a clerk. In his defense, the clerk had initially rolled her eyes at him, asked what exactly he thought he'd get out of this. He'd found this question rude.

The truth, of course, is that he did rob a convenience store. That did happen. No take backs.

'so did i!'

Matt and Jeremy speak so in unison it's almost scary. If they didn't know any better, they'd think the two of them had always known each other.

Trevor's gun wavers between them, unsure which is the bigger threat. The guy who clearly has zero experience with guns, or the weirdo who seems to have far too much? It's a toss up, really. So his aim pinballs back and forth, but his finger does not curl around the trigger. He's serious about that felony murder thing.

The air seems to shift, suddenly, and the sound of sirens is now growing closer. This evidently also annoys Jeremy, and they throw a glance over their shoulder to the direction they'd come from. Red and blue lights flicker past.

'shit. ok. we're all robbers, i guess, and we're all fucked if we keep standing here. who's got a plan?'

Jeremy's eyes are staring impatiently at Trevor. Eyes being the only part of their face Trevor can see. And their hands, a plastic bag in one and a gun in the other.

Trigger finger is an apt name.

He glances at Matt, still wild eyed and glancing back and forth. No, Matt probably does not have a plan. He sort of gives the impression that he's never had a plan ever, actually. That perhaps he'd simply woken up here and decided to wing it. So Trevor makes an offer.

'fire escape?'

There's another moment of tense silence. Well, minus the sirens. And oh, helicopters. Even better. Jeremy shrugs.

'good a plan as any.'

And then they're off, brushing past Trevor and hoisting themself up onto the dumpster. He knew it could work. Trevor blinks and Jeremy has caught the ladder, is quickly working their way up. Shit, how does five foot something manage to get that high on a good day, much less in this situation and with a bag and gun in hand?

Matt's gun clatters to the ground, and honestly, that's probably for the best. He's climbing onto the dumpster now, and he mutters something about not signing up for this shit. Trevor reminds him that he apparently robbed someone, so yeah, he kind of did.

Before Trevor climbs up, he shoves his gun into his jacket pocket. Smart? Probably not. Convenient? More so than climbing with a gun in his hand. He follows Matt up the ladder, wondering what happened to his plan. Yeah, the ladder had been involved. Two other people, however, were not.

Above them, glass shatters.

'warning, maybe!?'

'oops. careful, there's glass.'

Jeremy's voice is no longer directly above them. Instead, it comes from one story up and a little to the left. So they've broken into an apartment. Sure, add breaking and entering to the list of charges, that sounds great. But Matt and Trevor follow, because there's not really another option.

Inside the apartment, Jeremy's mask is gone. The suit is quickly disappearing as well, revealing a rather boring outfit of a white tank top and...sweatpants? The true mystery lies in where the cowboy hat has gone to, because that's a hard item to miss.

'do we really have time for this? don't you think someone might, oh, i don't know, wake up and call the cops?'

Trevor doesn't mean to hiss, it's just that he's sure there's more pressing matters to attend to than an outfit change. Continuing to flee, perhaps.

'nobody's gonna wake up.'

They don't even have the wherewithal to lower their voice. It registers to Trevor that Jeremy's bag and gun are missing as well. Had they dropped them on the way up? It was certainly possible. Trevor thinks he would have noticed a gun flying past his head, but there's a lot going on.

'can we maybe not kill anyone? he brought up a good point with that felony murder thing.'

It's the most words Matt has strung together since he'd shown up. It's damn near a whisper, but at least it's progress.

'i'm not- god, can you two shut up? i gotta make a phone call.'

Jeremy yanks the door open, hand carefully wrapped in the fabric of their shirt. For a moment, Trevor thinks they're leaving and steps forward to follow Jeremy. Instead, Jeremy turns and heads toward the kitchen, pulling open a drawer and digging inside it briefly. They come back with a cell phone.

Something dawns on Trevor.

'is this- do you live here? did you break your own window?'

Jeremy doesn't answer. They put the phone to their ear.

'you're gonna wanna hide whatever you've got. and try not to look like you just climbed in through a window.'

And then-

'hello? yes, hi, i'd like to report a break in, i think? i was hearing a bunch of sirens and then i don't know what happened but some guy just broke my window? he ran through and i just- my friends and i are really scared and we didn't know what to do- yes, we're ok, he's gone, but we- you'll send someone? ok, thank you. the address? oh, uh, it's the del perro heights building, apartment 7. should i shut the door? no, don't touch anything. ok- guys, don't touch anything, she said someone's on their way to check on us! thank you so much- no, i think we'll be fine. thank you.'

It's a marvelous performance. Jeremy genuinely sounds like some poor flustered victim of a crime. Trevor would applaud if he thought Jeremy would appreciate it. Almost immediately, their voice is back to normal.

'check things out my ass. they're gonna show up, ask which way he went and never call me again. feel real fuckin safe.'

Jeremy settles themself onto the couch, choosing the spot closest to the door. Matt, who has apparently gotten over his initial terror, wanders into the kitchen. Searching for something to distract himself, if Trevor had to guess. Trevor is still standing in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded. How did a simple robbery become hanging out with other robbers, waiting for cops to show up?

'i'm jeremy, by the way. they won't ask, but y'know. just in case.'

They're flipping channels on the tv, seeming to arbitrarily skip almost a dozen programs. Finally, they settle on one and stand. Trevor recognizes it as an old Disney movie, and desperately wants to ask why the fuck Jeremy has put this on.

'uh, hi. i'm trevor. why are we watching Mulan?'

'matt. oh hell yeah, i love this movie!'

He sounds remarkably cheerful, considering the circumstances. How Trevor had seemingly switched places with Anxious McGee is beyond him. He needs to get it together. He pulls his gun from his pocket and takes it to the kitchen, sticking it in the drawer Jeremy had taken the phone from. There are several other phones of varying price point. He steps back to the living room just in time.

'that's why.'

They don't elaborate. Apparently Trevor is meant to just figure this out on his own, which ordinarily he might be able to do. After the course of events of this particular evening? Not a chance.

But he can't ask, because now there's a cop in the doorway and he's staring at Trevor and that will never be a good thing. Trevor stares back. He has no clue what he's meant to say. Hello? Welcome? He went that way?

'oh thank god! we've been so terrified, we didn't know if he'd come back or what he'd do.'

Naturally, Jeremy has taken lead on this. They're a phenomenal actor, Trevor has to admit.

'did you see which direction he went?'

'toward the stairs, i think. we've all been rooted to the spot, you know, it's so scary-'

Matt freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. He's just out of the view from the front door.

'right, well. you boys did the right thing by calling. can you give me a description of the man?'

The corner of Jeremy's mouth quirks.

'gosh, it all just happened so fast. taller than me, probably, but shorter than you, wouldn't you say, trey?'

Trevor nods, because he's not quite sure what else to do.

'alright, thank you. someone will be in touch with you for an official statement. in the meantime, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to call.'

He's holding a card out to Trevor, of all people. He takes it carefully, like if he does it wrong somehow the guy will know and arrest them all. The card is simply the number for a tip line.

As suddenly as he'd arrived, the cop is gone and they're all breathing sighs of relief. Jeremy closes the door.

'you guys can stay for Mulan, if you want.'

So they do.

Trevor asks about why Mulan again, and Jeremy explains that they assume most people have seen it, could answer any questions about it if they came up. Perhaps, if LSPD officers were less incompetent, they would have. Although if that were the case, they wouldn't be LSPD officers at all.

Matt asks about the window, and Jeremy says yes, they did break their own window. Of course they'd had an actual plan when they'd entered the alley. They were always going to end up exactly here, give or take the extras. Asking for a plan was simply a test, determining the merit in bring them along. They'd passed.

Jeremy asks if they want to stay for Mulan II, which is apparently up next. They do.

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the early morning hours of a Wednesday, three convenience stores are recovering from three separate robberies. Right in the middle of them all, their respective robbers are sitting on a couch together, watching a straight to video children's film.

It is the beginning of something far greater than any of them can imagine.

#is this dumb? maybe. did i have way too much fun writing it? absolutely.#is this how any of this would go irl? god no. is it still fun? hell yeah.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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notmrskennedy · 3 years

Text

Friendliness

A/N - ha so i just wrote this - no editing we die like men. here’s the alternate ending to my other post Likeability (this one is the more predictable one y’all will probably like whoops) if you’ve read the other one, just skip to the end it’s all the same in the middle

Summary - The Team meets a very unfriendly scientist which Spencer’s taken a fancy to

W/C - 2.9k (whoops)

Warnings - Mild Anatomy/bones/etc discussion, a pinch and change of swearing

----

Luke is holding his stomach in his hands. He could usually pride himself on keeping his cool, keeping his head—and stomach—together during a case. He’d seen enough dead bodies that this shouldn’t have thrown him like he’d just sailed twelve foot waves in a dingy.

But he is, after all, standing over a mass grave. Watching a too giddy scientist dig up the bodies.

You’ve captured everyone’s attention, for various reasons. Rossi is vaguely amused by your joyous shouting of bones and your rat moustached assistant. Luke can’t tear his eyes away from the car wreck—are you supposed to swing bones around like baseball bats? Reid seems more interested in your bad jokes and coveralls than he is in solving the case.

The rat assistant—Stewart Walsh—squeezes between Luke and Reid, scuttling like some kind of diseased turtle. “Doctor Y/L/N!”

You barely stop pouring over the mud covered pelvis in your hands to even acknowledge him.

“I just thought you should know that Dr. Evanston just got here.”

You look up, toss the bone to him, and snort. “Tell him the soil samples are four miles due east from here.”

“What’s wrong with Evanston?” Luke asks to no one in particular it seems, waving Stewart off to run for a group of approaching nerds in coveralls.

Ignoring the question or maybe Luke, you just turn back to your search. Elbow deep in mud, being nice must not have been on the to-do list. Reid leans over, hands in his pockets, and whispers, “Evanston stole one of her research papers. I thought he was going to get his teeth kicked in—“

“Skull!” you holler. Luke isn’t stupid enough to miss the glare reserved for the sheepish Dr. Reid.

He clears his throat. “Thoughts so far, doctor?”

“I’m thinking beetles,” is all you say before turning back to your skull. Luke might not know many scientists, but he doesn’t think that most of them look at human skulls like its the Mona Lisa. Like this fat piece of bone held the answers to the universe inside its empty eye sockets.

“Beetles?” Luke coughs. Rossi just shakes his head. Pretends this isn’t a conversation he’s having. Reid is still studying you like Luke might study infiltration schematics. Stewart runs up, out of breath, very rose coloured.

You’re eyes are sparkling as you wade over to them with a new radius bone in your hands. Everyone bends like they know what they’re looking at and you point along the edge of the bone. “It’s a subtle difference but these bones have been cleaned before being buried. My guess is carrion beetles. They’re very hard workers. And—“ you switch to pointing at the radial head— “minute scoring and kerf marks. These look pretty old, so I’m assuming we’re getting close to the bottom.”

“So our unsub dismembered his victims,” Rossi begins, “then cleaned the pieces?”

You nod and hand off the bone to a very blushing Stewart. “I won’t know for sure until I’ve had a chance to examine all the bones. There’s nothing definitive yet. What a hobbyist though, right?”

You chuckle to yourself and dive back into fishing out more finger and wrist bones. Luke turns, runs his hands over his face, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder. “Where did we find her?”

Rossi shrugs, “FBI easter egg hunt.” Luke blinks, while Rossi chuckles at his gullibility. “Come on, the doctor’s the best in the field. Good kid, I can tell.”

“Y/N’s great,” Spencer absently adds on, too busy staring at you. You’re explaining different types of dismemberment to Stewart like you’re discussing the rain. Luke grips onto his stomach just a little tighter.

“Y/N, huh?” Luke teases, momentarily forgetting the unsettling feeling in his gut about you. “You two, uh, friends or something?”

It’s Reid’s turn to stumble. “Yeah, but it’s—we’re just—we’re just—.”

Rossi shakes his head, slaps Reid on the shoulder. “Oh yeah, just friends. So, tell me. Do you talk about dismemberment before or after you make out?”

JJ wants to beg Emily not to make her go down into the basement. You’re down there. She knows it’s childish to be this avoidant—you are just a person after all. A creepy, psychopathic weirdo that makes JJ’s gut churn. She gets why Spencer’s taken to you—shared love of science and random trivia. She does. But that doesn’t mean JJ enjoys the cold ass morgue, smiling along as you ramble. Most of everyone’s limited contact with you has involved random facts and Stewart’s too intimate knowledge of fracture patterns.

There had been ten minutes of reassurance from Emily that you were, in fact, not a horrible person. Ended with JJ making the cold and dark trek down to the morgue. She couldn’t imagine working down here all day long. No one to talk to, no one to strategise with, no where to go. Maybe it suited you. No one would have to listen.

“—don’t know what to do!” echoes across the bottom of the stairwell, the morgue’s doors cracked open. The distress breaks JJ’s heart. Your voice stops her dead in her tracks.

“They don’t hate you,” Spencer’s voice comes after. Gentler, softer. “They—they just don’t know you yet.”

“They don’t want to, Spence!” and JJ winces with the words. It always hurt more when the truth came out in that tone. “I get it! You know? I work with human remains and don’t bring my people skills with me when I’m on the job, but—that shouldn’t matter!”

JJ winces again, tries to ignore how those are nothing short of teary sniffles echoing through her ears. She leans back against the wall and has no idea what to do. Spencer had obviously been down here for hours. Knew you well enough to get the teary truth. What could she do now? Interrupt?

She’d walked into hostage situations less freakin’ stressful than this.

“You’re right,” Spencer soothes, steadfast and strong, “it doesn’t matter. This isn’t—“

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. JJ doesn’t want to hear the strangled touch to your voice. Doesn’t want to hear the break. “They’re your friends and I’m just your—“

“Doctor!” Stewart calls and JJ could scream. You’re his what?

At least, it’s as good as any moment to intrude.

“What, Stewart?” you snapped, already broken away from Spencer with wet cheeks and stained glasses. You wipe them off haphazardly with the tail end of Spencer’s sweater sleeve—JJ couldn’t help but smile, even if it’s a little strangled.

Stewart jumps like a wet cat and tosses a bundle of files into your hands. “Beetles.”

One word snatches the tears from your face. Snatches you away from Spencer’s side for one of the dozen skeletons on the tables. There was no reason to think that she’ll get her report from you now. With a rib bone in one hand and contemplation in your features—JJ can’t decide how unnerved she is—you’re a little too concentrated.

Stewart scuttles around you. A little too attentive. A little too cherry tinted. Yep. No reports to be had from either of you. JJ turned to Spencer instead, hoping that maybe he’d be helpful. Plastered up like a billboard, JJ knows that saccharine smile isn’t going to get her anywhere.

“Spence?”

He hums, halfheartedly tearing his eyes away. “Yeah?”

“I need the latest report for Emily, but I don’t think—“

“I’ll—just a second, JJ.” Spencer grins, sugary sweet, and slips away. JJ doesn’t miss how he places a hand on your shoulder as he passes. How you barely even notice that quite intimate contact. She also doesn’t miss how Stewart’s face sours at the action, how his eyes narrow enough that Spencer feasibly should’ve noticed.

Reports in hand a minute later, JJ leans over to Spencer. Elbows him in the arm. “Stewart seems pretty jealous. Any reason for that?”

Spencer shrugs. “Wouldn’t know a thing about it.”

Rossi doesn’t have an opinion. Everyone keeps asking—oh Rossi, you’re the wisest of us all, what should we do about poor little Y/N? He doesn’t know, doesn’t care. You are just some scientist who is doing a thousand percent better job than any other forensics ‘expert’ he’s had the pleasure of working with.

Your lab doesn’t smell. You don’t smell. Is there anything more to ask for?

But he does get the brute of having to make the trek down to the morgue—god, his knees alone—and receives most of the reports from the not as horrible as everyone thinks Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. Who is joyfully humming while squinting over one of the skeleton’s hands.

“Hey, doc,” he calls and you look up at him with an adorable sort of grin. “Got anything new?”

“Sure,” you chirp. Hesitate to wave him over. “If you want the details, that is.”

Rossi shakes his head, pulls up a stool to sit next to you and your subject. “I like to have as much knowledge as I can. You never know what will lead you to your un-sub.”

You settle your elbows on the table, straighten a stray finger bone. The team shouldn’t be worried about you being a psychopath. You’re dedicated, careful, attentive. Rossi hopes that if he ever gets turned into human remains, you’re the one looking over him. There’s been more care put into one skeleton than into his three combined marriages.

“You’re in luck,” you answer, “I’ve got a lot to tell you about our attacker. You’ve got time, right?”

Rossi nods, smiles. “Plenty.”

Penelope still hasn’t met you and that kind of pisses her off. You haven’t made it upstairs once? She flies into some dingy Wyoming hovel of a police station for like a week and no one’s thought to bring you upstairs? Rude.

She’s sitting in JJ’s desk chair, waiting for her and Luke to get back from interviewing a potential lead—some ex-felon who fit your makeshift profile. Reid’s scouring over some boring geographical profile, trying not to get annoyed as she nervously—angrily—rants about the case to him. She knows he’s tuning her out, but her work’s been put on the back burner until someone comes up with something to give her.

There’s only so much a computer can find and she’s no profiler.

It’s about five minutes after Reid snapped and left to get a coffee refill, when she picks up a call from the desk. “Hello?”

Creaking metal and shuddering breathing comes first. “Set the scalpel down” comes second. She swallows, silent, and panicking. What the heck is she supposed to do? Paying attention to those hostage negotiation seminars that she definitely didn’t go to would’ve come in handy right about now.

Said scalpel clatters onto some metal table, followed by a strong, “You really don’t want to do this. Please put the gun down.”

Oh god, this is happening.

“You just—“ a male voice snips, bellowing out, “YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME.”

“I do look at you, Stewart,” you plead just as JJ and Luke clamour through the bullpen’s door. Penelope puts the call on speaker, mutes it, and screams for them.

“I don’t know what to do,” Penelope sobs professionally, “someone’s got a gun.”

JJ runs for Emily’s office while Reid returns heedlessly. Luke puts a soft hand on Penelope’s cold one and squeezes. Newbie or not, it’s appreciated as the man’s voice returns. “I’ve tried for so long to get you to—to just—just look at me! I’ve done so much!”

“I know, Stewart,” you ease and Reid tenses. Nearly drops his coffee. “It’s not your fault. You’ve worked so hard.”

“Yeah,” Stewart sobs; Penelope can only imagine how crazy this kid must be.

“Did you leave all those bodies for me, Stewart?” you question and everyone holds their breath. Luke squeezes harder on her hand. Reid’s twitching like a rabbit’s nose, a death grip on his mug, frozen as a Michigan pond.

Stewart sniffles. Probably nods. Penelope doesn’t know whether to run or sit or cry. She decides it’s probably cry, but instead her fingers start moving to record the call, trace the office origin.

“It was a great puzzle, Stewart, it was really genius. It was a fun case to follow, you know that.” You swallow hard, metal tinkles through the speaker. Please, Penelope begs, don’t let them kill each other. I haven’t met the doctor yet!

“Why did you kill these girls, Stewart?” your voice is so gentle and lulling Penelope almost forgets that she’s listening to you try to save your own life.

“I wanted you to look,” he says, sniffles. “I wanted you. I want you, Y/N. I want you to love me.”

It’s either her computer beeping or someone falling through a table or a gunshot. She doesn’t know. She’s crying too hard to care.

Tara doesn’t know when she started to run—probably just after JJ, Luke, and Reid barrelled passed her by the bathroom shouting about the situation—but she’s almost to the morgue doors, right on Reid’s heels. Lord almighty, she feels so stupid. She’d had enough little one on one chats with Stewart to know he was some sort of psycho in disguise. To know that something was wrong with that kid. No one could last more than three minutes with your grad student assistant without wanting to take an eyeball out—his or theirs it didn’t matter. She’d let herself believe you when you told her that all forensic anthropologists seem like that. That there was nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about her ass.

Luke’s the first to storm the morgue, expecting what Tara is: you, dead, on the floor with Stewart on the brink of killing himself. But they stop and they stare and Reid beams on with the absurd look on your face.

You’re shaking with rage, pointing a gun at a very unconscious, crumpled, bleeding Stewart Walsh. Your teeth are bared in what Tara would consider out of a comic book—ludicrous and of someone who’s completely lost their mind. JJ makes the mistake of asking if you’re alright.

“Alright?” you chirp, feral and ravenous. JJ and Luke shrink back as you shout, “I lived in Honduras for three years! This isn’t even the worst thing that’s happened to me. It’s my third fucking kidnapping!”

“T-third?” Luke croaks.

“Third!” you shout again and recklessly set your gun on the table. Spencer grins, which sets you off further. “I’ve been nice. I’ve been accommodating. But this is my fourth psychotic grad student! I fucking swear—!”

Stewart groans—thank god he’s alive—and Spencer, thankfully, rushes forward to catch you before you can take anything else out on the kid. Tara’s heard rumours about mysterious other instances of your being under arrest. Illegal transportation of goods was one thing, police brutality was another. The scalpel sticking out of his knee is bad enough.

She helps Luke haul Stewart to his feet, reeking of desperation and a much needed psych eval. JJ follows close behind, closes the morgue doors behind them. But not before they hear your muffled sobs and Spencer’s smiling.

“You got him, Y/N.”

“No, Spence,” you correct, and Tara can’t help but be proud, “I kicked the snot out of him.”

Emily is barely awake when she sees it. JJ’s soft breathing next to her is lulling by itself, let alone if you add in Rossi’s rhythmic snoring and Luke’s idle whispers of sleep talk. Emily could do with some sleep and maybe a few days off. They could all use a few days off, especially after coming to terms with the fact a grad student had killed 12 women just to get a little action.

From a scientist who freely admitted to enjoying the company of bones over real people.

Alive people.

No wonder Stewart had done what he’d done.

Emily turns in her spot, lays back against the wall of the airplane and the seat. After nearly five decades—she’s never thinking about that again—of plane rides, she can comfortably say she can sleep anywhere. With any amount of noise, or cold, or pain.

But her eyes are accidentally open when she peaks around the seat cushion. Spies the Wild Dr. Reid in his natural habitat, reading some ridiculously long book and…carding his fingers through your hair? He’s got a lock curled up around his finger, gently twisting it as he reads. You’re sleeping—knocked the fuck out—in his lap, gripping loosely onto his leg.

You deserve the sleep, Emily decides with a smile. You’d worked the hardest on the case, up for nearly four days with as little rest as you can manage. How Stewart managed to stay awake enough to attack you is beyond Emily. She’s missed out on a few hours just today and she’s losing the battle with her eyelids.

No one ever asked her opinion of you. Probably didn’t have to. You were not the easiest to like, but you’d captured her respect and a bit of her heart when you’d said at the beginning of the case: “I’m an excavator by trade—I’m at archeological digs most of the time—so it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that these ladies are murder victims. I don’t think I’ll sleep until I’ve got names for them. And maybe the murderer on my table.”

Emily understood the unease, the apprehension. Why everyone was relieved when you’d turned down the plane ride she’d offered you. How they all bit back groans when Emily had insisted. But they’ll have to get used to it, Emily thinks and she settles again. Because they’ll see you again. No doubt about it. The way you’re wrapped up around Spencer, how you hold tighter when the jet bounces a touch, says just that much anyway.

#no editing lads #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #reid #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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obwjam · 3 years

Note

I don’t know why I didn’t do this before, but if you’re still writing marvel g/t could you do another Scott lang one or Bruce Banner one? Maybe x hurt!tiny? They’re both so underrated and are amazing characters. I love your writing 🙂

i’ll do you one better anon: what if i did scott AND bruce with a tiny? yeah i think i’ll go with that

———-

Bruce Banner’s morning started out normal, which maybe should have been his clue that things were going to go spectacularly off the rails. All was quiet at the Avengers complex upstate -- Tony was at some tech conference, Clint and Nat were doing spy business, Thor was in some other realm, Vision and Wanda were cooped up in their rooms upstairs and Steve, Sam and Bucky were off sparring together in a completely different wing of the building. Bruce was on his way down to the lab, and Scott was upstairs, munching on chips and watching TV.

“Chips at 10 in the morning?” Bruce asked with a laugh.

Scott shrugged, stuffing another handful into his mouth. “There was nothing else!”

Bruce, who was standing in front of an open fridge full of food, raised an eyebrow.

“...Nothing else I wanted,” Scott said, his attention turning immediately back to the TV. “Oh my god. Look at that kitchen! Man, can those property brothers design or what! I wonder if I can get them to do my house.”

Bruce rolled his eyes and grabbed the energy drink he came for. It was going to be a long, restless day of calculations and experiments without Tony around to help.

It was just his luck that he would never even get to start.

You had stayed up all night borrowing. It was rare for the complex to be this deserted, but it was your one chance to stock up on everything you needed in one big trip -- food and water from the kitchen, pieces of soap from the bathroom, and everything else you could ever want from the lab downstairs.

Everything was going great. Nobody had infiltrated the kitchen for a midnight snack. Someone had remembered to replace the soap. And the lab was stocked full of sharp metal for building, flat metal for creating, strings for hooks, and so many screws and nails and bolts. It took over a dozen trips up and down the tables to get everything, and you were just about finished when your greed got the best of you.

You were trying to stuff the most you possibly could inside your bags. They were overflowing. You were on your way down the leg of the table when a few pieces of metal started to slip out your bag.

“No no no no no...” you mumbled. The metal falling out of the bag wasn’t itself a big deal -- it was the noise it would make when it hit the ground that scared you. As you scrambled to stuff the metal back into the bag, your hold on your rope started to slip. You didn’t realize how tired you were until right now, and what turned into you trying to pull yourself up became your muscles giving out and your hand being unable to keep its tight grip.

You tumbled to the ground, which wasn’t that far away, but when you tried to stick the landing, your legs tangled up and you crumpled down. The metal clattered everywhere, making you wince. You waited a moment. No human. Okay. They must not have heard. You sat up, using your arms as support behind you, but when you went to stand, pain shot through your leg and you fell right back down.

Your stomach fell. “No… nononono, this can’t be happening…”

You forced yourself to stand, keeping your right leg completely straight and dragging it along as you shuffled to the table leg for cover. “No, I gotta get out of here. I can’t--”

You froze at the sound of Bruce bounding down the stairs, cracking open his drink and taking a big sip before slamming the can down on the nearest table. He blinked. Did he just... hear a whimper?

His eyes scanned the room. You were moving as fast as you could, but adrenaline could only push you so far. Your leg throbbed in pain and you cried out as you fell back to the ground again. Your shaking hand flew to your mouth. I’m done for.

Okay, he definitely wasn’t hearing things. That sounded like someone yelling. He took cautious steps forward, hoping not to make too much noise so he didn’t startle whatever he was hearing.

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest as the giant started walking toward you, clearly looking for something he had heard. He stopped walking almost right on top of you, and you couldn’t help but gawk up at him towering above you like a skyscraper. The mere thought of being discovered by the human was enough to induce tears, which you desperately tried to push away as you got back up and started moving again.

Bruce heard a choppy breath and froze. That sounded close... but he was standing in the middle of the room. Nothing was behind him, in front of him or beside him... so the only option was... below him.

He looked down and gasped. He had no idea what he was looking at, but he suddenly felt sick. “Holy shit…” he whispered, putting his hands on his knees and leaning down. As soon as he uttered those words, you whipped your head up and around to meet his gaze. For a moment, he was surprised. He felt an influx of nerves when the tiny person stared at him, completely shocked. They looked terrified.

“H-hey, little guy--” he tried, but you had already turned around and started limping toward the table. Wait… limping.

Bruce, for his part, couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He watched as you ducked behind the cover of the table leg. You knew it wasn’t going to help, but you just needed to get behind something so you could sit down and feel like you were hiding. Bruce felt a pang of pity. Not only was this little thing hurt, they were terrified of him.

“Um...” Bruce couldn’t even begin to formulate words in his head. He bent down, getting on his hands and knees and crawling to the side so he could fully see you. When you locked gazes, Bruce almost looked more nervous than you did. Your whole body was shaking. That’s when he noticed.

“Your leg… it’s bending all the wrong way,” he whispered, almost to himself. You blinked. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. You knew this giant -- this was one of the scientists who frequented the lab. He didn’t seem as… rough as the other one, but you were pretty sure this was the one who turned into a monster when he got angry. As if he wasn’t big enough already.

He noticed how you flinched at his words. He felt his heart swell at the tiny movements, yet guilt pierced his stomach at seeing the pure terror you exuded.

“No, no, it--it’s okay,” Bruce stammered, holding his hands up. “Who... what are you?”

Your lips were trembling. How were you even supposed to answer that?

“You’re right. Bad question,” Bruce muttered as soon as he saw your facial expression. “You can understand me though, right?”

Meekly, you nodded. Bruce smiled softly. “Good, good. Do you, uh... do you need help? Do you...” he trailed off. He took note at how your eyes seemed to be burning as you stared at him in horror. He tried to speak as slow as possible to not startle you any more than he already had.

“Do you have a name?”

Your words got caught in your throat. Part of you wanted to say, but another part stopped you from saying anything. You didn’t need his help. You’d be fine. As long as you could make it back to base...

Pain shot through your leg and you bit your tongue, trying desperately not to make a sound. Bruce stared as you contorted your face. It was clear you were in pain.

“H-here, let me…” he started, reaching his hand out toward you. On instinct, you yelped and scooted back, hugging the table leg for support. No. You couldn’t let him touch you. He would hurt you even more.

“Sorry, sorry!” He stared at your tiny, trembling form, his mind racing. How could he help you? If he were three inches tall and incapacitated on the ground, he wouldn’t want the help of a nervous giant either.

Maybe he couldn’t help, but someone small enough could.

“I’ll be right back!” he shot up, completely missing the way you winced back at his movement. “Don’t--stay right there!” You watched in confusion and fascination as he ran up the stairs. This was your chance! All you needed to do was get up, get your rope and hobble all… the… way… across the room…

Who were you kidding? You could barely even stand without falling right back down. You were trapped. The giant was obviously going to get a jar to put you in to show you off to all the weirdos who lived here.

This is it, you thought as you began to cry. This is how it ends.

“Scott!”

Scott coughed on his chips and turned around in surprise. “Bruce?” he asked, but it came out sounding like Brrcsh.

“Get your suit.”

“What?”

“Your suit! Your costume. Your… Ant-Man thing.”

“Oh! That suit. What do you need it for?” Scott frowned. “You don’t want to take it apart, do you? Did Tony put you up to this?”

“What-- no! I’ll explain in a minute. Just go get it!”

“Okay, okay!” Scott folded his chip bag and ran upstairs. Bruce was pacing and tapping his finger on the counter when Scott came back down, helmet in hand.

“Wow. You change quick.”

“I’ve been working on it,” Scott grinned. “Now can you tell me what the hell you’re so worked up about?”

“You’re not gonna believe me,” Bruce started, “but down in the lab there’s a tiny person who’s badly hurt but I would hurt them even more if I tried to help and they’re pretty scared of me so I need your help to calm them down.”

Scott blinked, processing what he had just been told. Of all the things in the world that Bruce could have told him, the existence of tiny people wasn’t at all shocking. In fact, Scott had pondered this possibility many times while traversing the world as Ant-Man. Some things were way too conveniently set up for it to be a coincidence. But a tiny person here? In this giant complex full of temperamental superheroes? That was no place for someone so small.

“You really thought I wouldn’t believe you? You know my thing is shrinking, right?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, I-- you’re really just going to accept all that?”

“I can grow and shrink at the press of a button and you turn into a giant green rage monster when you stub your toe. Aliens attacked New York once. This is like, a three out of ten on the surprise scale.”

Bruce stared, waiting to see if Scott would say anything else. He didn’t.

“Well, will you help or not?”

“Of course I’ll help! I guess you need me to--”

“--yeah, if you could just--”

“--okay, okay. Here I go.” Scott slipped his helmet on, pushed the magic button and in an instant, he was three inches tall. Bruce laid his hand down and Scott jumped on, using his thumb for support as Bruce bounded back downstairs.

Your breath hitched when you heard booming footsteps coming back down the stairs. You wished so deeply that you could have escaped, but a part of you knew that could never happen. The giant would probably find you again, anyway.

You quivered when the giant re-entered your vision. Why did he leave? Was he going to get help? You didn’t see any help. You didn’t see him carrying a jar, either.

That is, until Bruce took a knee next to you and lowered his hand. You gasped and your eyes went wide when a person wearing very odd clothes and a weird looking helmet hopped off his palm and kneeled down next to you.

“Hello! I’m Scott,” the person -- Scott -- said in a cheery demeanor. You didn’t know what was freaking you out more, the silhouette of the giant in the background or Scott sitting a foot away from you. He certainly looked like a borrower... but if there were other borrowers, you would have known about it. And no way a borrower would be hanging out with a bunch of humans. You couldn’t figure out who, or what, he was.

“It’s okay! Don’t freak out,” he said, scooting a bit closer. He felt a pang of guilt at the terrified expression on your face. “I’m--we’re here to help.” He gestured up at Bruce, who gave a small, awkward wave. “That’s Bruce. He’s gonna help us get off the ground. Can I help you up?”

You stared at him in disbelief. They… really wanted to help you?

“Here.” Scott stuck his hand out. You looked at it for a cautious moment before grabbing it and letting him do the hard work of hoisting you up.

“Ow!” you cried as Scott pulled. It was almost impossible to stand. Your face instantly flushed red when both Bruce and Scott shot you a look of surprise after hearing you speak.

“Hold on,” Scott said calmly. He slid his arm underneath your shoulder, acting as support while you tried the best you could to stay standing. You were leaning heavily on him to keep from falling as he stood up fully.

“You got it?”

You nodded, refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were locked on your two bags beneath the table, scrap metal scattered everywhere. Scott followed your gaze.

“Is that your stuff?” he asked. You froze. You weren’t going to answer that. Scott took note. “Okay, well, we’re going to try and walk now-- woah!” One step forward and you instantly lost your footing. Your stomach dropped as he turned up to Bruce, who was watching intently. “Think you can give us a lift?”

“Oh--sure,” Bruce stammered. He was reluctant to try and bring his hand close to you again.

“No!” you blurted, instantly regretting it. Scott turned to you.

“No? Why not?”

“B-because…” you tried, but your words failed you when you looked up at Bruce. He was gigantic. One wrong move and he could break you even more than you were already broken. “I…”

“Hey, it’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you. He doesn’t look like it, but he’s really gentle, I promise.”

“Hey!” Bruce protested.

“What? You should see what you look like from down here, man,” Scott shrugged. You were shaking, and Scott could feel it. “You can close your eyes if you want. We just gotta get you off the ground. It’s not safe here.”

You sighed. You knew you had to do this, but it certainly didn’t make it any easier. Following Scott’s advice, you squeezed your eyes tight as you felt the sudden push of a large mass behind you. Knowing this was Bruce’s hand, your arm tightened around Scott’s back as you fell down into his palm, legs dangling as he very slowly stood up. Scott didn’t blink, but even with Bruce going slow, the speed was still dizzying to you.

Bruce was trying his best not to shake. Not only was he holding Scott, but he had this very hurt, very scared tiny stranger at his mercy, too. This is not how he thought he’d be spending his day.

He gently lowered his hand to the table, but you were in no position to merrily jump off. Scott took instant notice.

“Hold on, let me go get something for you,” he said. You blinked in shock as he jumped off the table and… grew… to full size. This human could shrink himself? Or was he a borrower that could grow? You had never seen him here before.

“Scott! Where are you going?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Just going to get his,” he said, grabbing a clean cloth from a nearby table. He folded it neatly next to you and in an instant, he was tiny again. Were you in so much pain that you were hallucinating?

“Sit on this,” he said, gently lifting you from your spot on the edge of Bruce’s hand to the cloth. You flopped down, grateful to have some soft support for your aching body. Scott took a seat next to you, and Bruce pulled up a chair and bent down to get his face to your level. You eyed him nervously.

“I hope after all this, you feel like you can tell us your name,” Scott smiled.

You kept your eyes trained on the ground. “I’m… I’m (Y/n),” you said shyly.

“That’s a nice name,” Bruce said, quietly this time. He frowned when you didn’t even look at him. “What… why are you here? I-in the lab? What happened?”

“I…” you couldn’t believe what was happening. Were you really about to give your whole life story to a giant you met five minutes ago? Well, giants, but one of them was choosing not to be big around you. That had to count for something. And Bruce had gone up to get his help, just to make sure you were okay…

“I-I’m… I live here,” you said so softly, you didn't think Bruce could hear. “In the complex. This is my home. I was… gathering supplies. I--I didn’t want anyone to h-hear me, but… I slipped off my rope going down the table.”

“Oh, man,” Scott muttered. He looked over to where Bruce had spotted the tiny rope contraption. He couldn’t believe he was looking at a shoelace tied to a paper clip.

“This is what you use to get around?” he asked, pinching the paper clip between his fingers and holding it up.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly. It was almost scary how small your rope looked when he held it.

“That’s incredible,” Bruce breathed. “I--I mean, the ingenuity to create something like this, and-and actually use it to climb up and down? That’s really impressive.”

You blushed. He genuinely sounded impressed. “Th-thanks,” you mumbled.

“What do you need all that scrap metal for?” Scott asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“Uhm… I use it to… build stuff,” you said plainly. “And to like, cut things and… you know.”

“That’s so cool,” Scott said with a smile. “I don’t think I could ever do what you do. You know, climb up tables and sneak around? Well, I mean, I do do that…” he stopped when he saw your confused expression. “I could never do it for a living, is what I mean.”

“How do you… you know, eat? Or bathe?” Bruce asked.

You shrugged. “I, uh, I just take whatever I can find. Stuff you guys won’t notice is gone.”

“That’s… wow.” Bruce was beside himself. This tiny person was living an entire life out under their noses every single day and he was none the wiser. As happy as he was to have made this discovery, he was even happier at the fact that you weren’t nearly as tense and scared as you were before. “I--I have so many questions!”

You knew the human would want to know everything, but the thought of answering a million questions about your secret life still freaked you out. You gave Scott a nervous glance. He instantly understood.

“Well hey, why don’t we try and patch up your leg and bring you upstairs for some breakfast?” Scott turned to Bruce. “Can we do that? Can we give breakfast to tiny strangers?”

Bruce smirked. “We can do whatever we want. As long as (Y/n) is okay with it.”

“I can make my world-famous San Fran-cakes!” Scott said excitedly. “Well, world famous might be a stretch. And I guess they’re just plain ol’ pancakes if I’m in New York--”

“Scott…”

“Right, right. Oh, and we could watch TV. Have you ever watched TV? You gotta see what the property brothers can do to a kitchen!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. No, you had never watched TV, and you didn’t know what a property brother was, but maybe now would be a good time to find out.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce had laid his palm down flat beside you. “We’ve got some gauze upstairs. I can try and make you a cast while Scott makes breakfast.”

You stared at his hand, and somehow, that crippling sense of fear you felt before was gone. Maybe it was all overwhelming, and you still didn’t feel like this was all real, but Bruce was kind and Scott had willingly made himself tiny just to calm you down. You were very glad it had worked.

Scott helped you up from the cloth and over to Bruce’s hand, where you situated yourselves between his thumb and held on tight for support. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat.

“Hold on, you two,” he said, slowly standing up. Scott was going on about something completely unrelated, and Bruce was smiling as he kept his hand perfectly steady. Bruce grabbed the cloth with his free hand and in an instant, the junkyard of a lab was just a background. You had never seen it from this angle before. It looked massive and uninviting.

You were glad to leave it behind. Whatever San Fran-cakes were, you were more than excited to try them.

#i DO still do marvel g/t dont you worry #i dont forget my roots #also it's my personal hc that scott religiously watches HGTV and talks himself through every show #as in he gets way too invested in house hunters #also welcome back to the reality where scott isnt ant sized because i think that’s too small #sorry if this sucks ive been having some weird ass writers block lately #patiently waiting for it to just go away on its own #marvel g/t #g/t #giant/tiny #obwrites

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octerminal · 3 years

Text

having many many many many me1mele thoughts

mele “spoilers” below - if you’re wanting to avoid hearing anything about the remaster, ignore this post!

i am OBSESSED with photomode

literally, i have been playing all day and i haven’t even recruited anyone but ashley yet because i’ve just been taking pictures of everything

sorry who is saren? what’s a spectre candidacy? commander shepard is busy building her photography portfolio on the citadel call back later

i didn’t think i was going to make gifs because i’m still playing on console and i didn’t really want to make gifs til i made the switch to pc so they could look Nicer(tm), but i genuinely think not being able to gif the uncharted worlds is going to kill me

might settle for photosets as a compromise

i haven’t even reached the uncharted worlds yet anyway but when i do that’s also going to kill me

i was worried i was going to miss the red skies on eden prime but i actually find i didn’t mind the change nearly as much playing through it myself so i’m glad i held out finalizing my opinion on that

eden prime was stunning - i said this on twitter, but it’s really become the paradise the game repeatedly tells you it is. walking through that reminded me of how i feel exploring the uncharted worlds

sovereign looked massive and imposing taking off on eden prime, so much more than in the original game

i’ve always loved me1′s citadel the most but this remaster is taking it to another level

i am out of control i have taken like a dozen pictures of the bar area in flux alone

in general the improved graphics has extended the unique magic me1 has that none of the other games do for me to everything - like everything just feels so lived in. you really feel like this is an inhabited, sci-fi world. for some reason, i never really feel that way in me2 until maybe when i’m on the citadel again (and even then, it pales in comparison to me1) - and i never feel that way in me3 at all, which is understandable because it’s very much a linear war story

i am very, very, very excited to get to feros and noveria and bring down the sky and ilos in particular. i know virmire is going to be beautiful but i can’t say i’m excited for it because i do not want to see anyone die in HD

it was a useless dlc and it’s objectively no major loss but oh i am very much mourning even more now that i won’t be able to see shepard’s crappy apartment in HD

oh the sniper rifle overhaul is lovely. granted, i’m a weirdo who’d adjusted to me1′s terrible combat enough that i actively found it enjoyable but the fact i no longer have to put points into sniper rifle just to make it not be all wobbly is wonderful

in general i’m finding the combat improvements fun - i’m using grenades way more than i ever did previously this early on already - but again, i already liked me1′s combat at this point so it doesn’t take much to please me in that regard

i have not driven the mako yet and i am very excited to drive the mako

that being said: i am displeased with both kaidan and ashley’s appearances and i do think they have been whitewashed. there’s something about ashley’s face that also looks different to me but for the life of me, i can’t place it (is it her eyes? are they smaller? does anyone else know what i’m talking about or am i just imagining things?)

i also think the decision to give kaidan the salt and pepper hair in me1 is a weird choice, but not a particularly egregious one or anything. i’d much rather the whitewashing be fixed

in general, it’s by far not the worse they could’ve given us (my biggest fear was that they’d import their me3 designs and retroactively apply them in me1/2) but it’s something i’m definitely hoping someone smarter than me fixes with mods

did anyone else notice they got rid of kaidan’s little smile if you tell him the beacon thing wasn’t his fault? this doesn’t bother me but i thought it was an interesting choice

the normandy mess hall has lesbian lighting now and no i will not elaborate on that

oh yeah: what is up with the asari????? why do they all have that dreadful black eyeshadow??? is 2183 the year for raccoon eyes in asari fashion??? WHAT is going on????

#for blacklisting purposes:#mele #there's a turian in the council chambers #who has a color coordinated suit that matches the cherry blossom trees #i am in love with him #this is all to say i am very much having a blast #i'm having to take frequent breaks because the excitement overwhelms me #will probably come back to this post the further on i get into the game

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genesisrose74 · 4 years

Text

A/n: Alright if you can’t already figure out I am very much a simp for adorable sweethearts cause they’re just so cute!! Literally take all my uwus— anywho here’s some quarantine headcanons for best boy Izuku Midoriya! I might make quarantine hc’s a small series for the boys of Class 1-A because I had a really fun time writing this, but we’ll see! I included a bit of background at the beginning as well so enjoy!!

So you’re in Class 1-B at UA High, and the first time you officially met Izuku was at the sports festival

During the cavalry battle you had snagged points from Bakugo’s team and he was incredibly impressed with you despite the fact that your group fell short of making the one on one battle round

You may or may not have become intrigued with him during the obstacle race and your curiosity only grew from there

Monoma got upset with you because you were so focused on Izuku almost the entire festival

“Are you seriously fawning over our rivals?”

Cue you elbowing him in the side and scolding him for being so hostile (yes you and Kendo get along swimmingly)

When he saw you around later that day he asked you about your quirk and you were happy to talk with him! You offered to get ice cream while you walked and he was ecstatic because not only was your quirk awesome, but you were also one of the prettiest girls Izuku had ever seen and he was trying not to get too flustered

Poor boy basically got hounded by Monoma when he saw you two walking around the festival together and Kendo had to physically drag the blonde away while mustering out a handful of apologies

Y’all became good friends very quickly and you and Izuku would alternate eating with each other’s friend groups at lunch - the Dekusquad loves you

Izuku ended up meeting your parents unexpectedly after the forest training camp incident, as they worked as some of the head doctors at the hospital and were well acquainted with OFA (your dad attended UA in the support class at the same time Toshinori was enrolled!! He worked closely with Recovery Girl during his years there)

Izuku had stepped in to help you at the training camp during the attack, so your parents were thanking him constantly for protecting their daughter.

You ended up asking him out pretty soon after that because he was always so selfless and kind, not to mention the most adorable person you had ever met

Decided to keep it very lowkey just because of the class rivalry and all the craziness going on

Anyways when Miss ‘Rona starts up you’ve been dating for a few months now and Izuku’s mom and your parents each adore y’all already

So UA makes the announcement that students should stay at home for a while so that they can clean out the campus and make sure everything is safe for use, so that means everyone is moving out of the dorms for the time being

Your parents are worried because even though you all got tested and the results were negative, they don’t want to put you at risk as they’re traveling to and from the hospital each day, so Izuku’s mother being the sweetheart she is offers to have you stay at their place

So the Midoriya fam gets tested and all is good except that Izuku is freaking out

He knows it’s fine because there’s a guest room and you’ve been to his house on many, many occasions but oH My GoSH sHe’S bASiCalLy gOiNG tO LiVe wiTh mE

Sweet baby is a blushing mess when his mom tells him you’re coming over and he bolts to clean everything and make sure you’ll be comfortable

Folds your favorite hoodie that you steal all the time and puts it on the guest room bed…SWEETHEART

He knows you’re worried about your parents so he wants to do his best to make sure you’re alright

And let me just say that this child is best boy like?? Always tidies his room and helps Momma Midoriya out around the house! It’s the cutest thing ever

If you’re not the best with online classes he’s sat next to you on your bed and explaining stuff to you.

You get a question right? Nose kissies. No exceptions. You’re getting rewarded for your hard work

He’s super respectful of your space too — he will never enter your room or the bathroom without knocking and making sure you’re not caught off guard

But believe it or not this little broccoli gets into very clingy moods and will absolutely pull you into his side while he’s doing homework on the couch or when you’re making a snack in the kitchen.

Cuddles are mandatory at least three times a day, and when he gets this way you’re basically immobile the entire afternoon

P l e a s e kiss the scars on his hands I am begging you

Movie nights in his room all the time. Y’all eat up romantic comedies and literally anything Disney.

Sometimes you fall asleep on his chest during the movie and the boy c o m b u s t s at how completely adorable you look.

His mom has dozens of pictures of you both. She hardcore ships it.

Since y’all have classes at differing times, you’ll sometimes come into his room while he’s on a Zoom call and discreetly put a plate of snacks on his desk to keep him focused. He gives you the softest look whenever you do it’s so precious-

You try to avoid the camera at all costs though, since no one at school knows you’re both dating, let alone currently staying in the same house

One time his classmates asked who was in his room and he choked on air before sputtering out that it was his mother.

To his relief everyone believed it, but after he muted his mic again you were practically wheezing on the other side of the room at how freaked out he got

***

You knock lightly on Izuku’s bedroom door, quietly slipping in when you hear a faint “come in” from the other side. A plate of fruit is balanced in one hand while the other one closes the door behind you, and you are met with the sight of your boyfriend listening to another one of Aizawa’s lectures. He looks a bit tired, with his head propped up on his hand and pencil tapping on his desktop. You smiled to yourself, knowing that this time of the afternoon was around the middle of his daily classes and he was running out of steam - hence the snacks you brought.

You gently place the plate beside Izuku and glance at his screen to find his microphone off. He looks over to you with an appreciative smile before reaching for a piece of honeydew.

“How are you doing, baby?” you ask, giggling when he groans in exasperation.

“Staring at this screen for so long is hurting my brain,” he sighs as he pops the fruit into his mouth. “Thank you for the food.”

“Not a problem. My next class isn’t for another hour so if you need anything else let me know.”

The boy reaches out for your hand, and your eyes briefly flick to the camera to make sure you’re still out of view, but you let him lace his fingers with yours.

“Could you sit with me for a bit then?” he requests, looking up to you with pleading emerald eyes.

You smile softly at his behavior. “Only if I get to have some of this fruit plate.”

“Deal.”

You take up the space on the floor besides Izuku’s chair, leaning your head against his side. His computer’s camera angle only showed him from the shoulders up, and the aspiring pro hero absentmindedly brushed a hand through your hair as he focused back on the lecture. You pulled out your phone to keep yourself occupied while your boyfriend worked during the class, occasionally reaching out to snag another piece of fruit from atop his desk.

The room was filled with the comfortable sounds of pen against paper and the fan whirring softly overhead, and you perked your head up as Izuku answered a question Aizawa had asked a moment prior. The corners of his mouth raised into a small smile when he was deemed correct. You teasingly pressed a quick kiss to his side which caused him to jolt in surprise and glance over to you.

“What was that for?” he chuckled, a hint of a blush adorning his face.

“You got the question right,” you smiled back at him cheekily. “That’s your reward.”

He scoffed playfully. “You’re such a dork.”

“Maybe, but you like that I’m a dork.”

Izuku shook his head with a grin, grabbing a strawberry from the plate on his desk and holding it out to you. You gladly took a bite of the sweet fruit that had been sprinkled with bits of sugar.

“I think I deserve a slightly better prize for answering correctly, though,” he shrugged, lifting the strawberry to his mouth — that was now practically the same shade of red as his face.

“Oh yeah? What might that be?” you hummed, eyebrow arched.

“Not sure exactly. I was just thinking out loud.”

“Maybe I’ll kiss you properly when you’re not on a class Zoom call, weirdo.”

“Uh, hey Midoriya? Who are you talking to?”

Both yours and Izuku’s faces morphed into mortified realization at the voice coming from his computer.

He forgot to mute himself after answering Aizawa’s question, getting distracted by your antics. And everyone had just heard him. Flirting with you.

Welp.

The voice who had spoken and saved you two from further embarrassment belonged to Kaminari, and the rest of the class was quick to follow up with their own questions as they unmuted themselves one by one. Izuku looked at you with apologetic eyes, and you only let out a soft laugh and waved your hand nonchalantly, the initial shock of the situation already leaving you. The boy tilted his head in question: ‘want to say hello?’ You nodded in response, standing up so you were now in view of the computer’s camera.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” you laughed awkwardly, watching everyone’s screens as Class 1-A’s jaws dropped.

“Woah, you’re from Class 1-B right?” Kirishima spoke up. You nodded in affirmation.

“What’re you doing at Midoriya’s house?” Asui inquired.

“Midoriya, are you not exercising proper social distancing guidelines?” Iida chimed in, with his typical Class Representative concern.

Izuku was growing more flustered by the second as numerous students bombarded you with questions. You gently placed a hand on his shoulder which seemed to somewhat ease his embarrassment.

Aizawa had decided to use this opportunity to take a nap, saying he didn’t care what you students did so long as the class was done with this little predicament by the time he woke up. So now, the floor solely belonged to you both.

“Alrighty, so I’ll try to keep this short and quick,” you started, looking to Izuku with a small smile. “My parents are doctors at the local hospital and since they wanted to make sure I stayed healthy, I’m currently living at Izuku’s place. Yeah, we’ve been tested and are fine, and yes Iida, we’re still maintaining clean and healthy lifestyles around the house to play it safe. And finally, yes, we are dating. Pretty sure that covers it.”

“Like hell it does!” Mina exclaimed, leaning towards her camera excitedly. She had been missing some long awaited drama. “How long have you two been dating?”

“A handful of months now,” Izuku spoke up, hiding his burning face in your sweater.

“You’re joking! And you didn’t tell anyone?” Momo gasped, quite a fan of the occasional dramatics herself.

“It was kind of a crazy time after the whole summer camp fiasco, so we didn’t feel like bringing it up then would have been right,” you explained, patting the top of Izuku’s head. “After that, we just never really got around to saying anything.”

“So you’re telling me that Midoriya scored a hottie from 1-B and not the rest of us guys?” Mineta huffed. You laughed when Izuku secured his arms around your waist at the comment.

“Mineta, no,” he scolds, although his voice is muffled by the fabric of your clothing.

“Aww, I think someone’s properly embarrassed now,” you cooed. “I should probably be taking my leave then.”

“But there are so many more questions we could ask!” Mina whines, and a number of the students nod in agreement.

You giggle at the class’ curiosity. “Maybe another time. This might be all Zuku can take at the moment.”

The boy in question lifted his head to look at you, blush still alight on his freckled cheeks.

“Sorry about all this,” he apologizes.

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s all fine and done. Don’t even worry about it. We were going to let them know eventually.”

You take his face in your hands and press a kiss on Izuku’s forehead. He pouts, his eyes averted to his lap. “You missed.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you lean down to peck Izuku’s lips. The gesture is met with a chorus of awwing over the class Zoom call, only opposed by a gagging Bakugo and a salty Mineta.

“Alrighty, that’s enough public affection in front of your friends for today,” you joke, and you leave a furiously blushing Izuku to deal with the rest of the class on his own.

Safe to say you were drowned in cuddles and many, many kisses as soon as the call ended.

#izuku #izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero headcanons #bnha midoriya #bnha imagines #bnha #bnha deku #deku x reader #imagines #midoriya x reader #midoriya headcanons #fluff

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byeoltoyuki · 4 years

Text

Release my heart ⇾ Ch.3

↳ Pairing: Jimin x You

❧ Genre : Fluff / Smut / angst / gang au

❧ Warnings : mention of murder, violence

❧ Words: +11k

❧ Summary: Your world is turned upside down when your father decides to sell you to the infamous gang in order to pay his debts.

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You didn’t know for how long you were asleep but the moment you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the empty spot beside you; Jimin was gone.

You didn’t move, didn’t blink, you just stared at the pillow where you swore not long ago Jimin was resting. You reached out to touch the pillow; it felt warm under your palm which only confirmed your doubt. Jimin had left not long ago.

You grabbed his pillow and brought it closer, burying your face in the pillow; you inhaled his scent that was still there. In all honesty, you didn’t know how you felt now that he was gone. Relieved because you wouldn’t need to face him and his change of heart? Disappointed because you expected something? Sad? You scoffed at this ridiculous thought and yet, you would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t feeling a tiny bit sad. You knew, of course, that in a place like this you couldn’t mean something (and you didn’t really want to) to a man like Jimin, but still you wanted his words to be true.

With a long and tired sigh, you lifted the blanket, ready to get out of the bed and go back to your room (or at least try to), but your eyes lingered on your thighs. With all the biting, you expected to see some marks, except it wasn’t just two or three, but more like dozens of them.

"Asshole." You muttered to yourself.

Jimin made sure you would remember to who you belonged. Was it comforting? Not so sure. You didn’t like the idea of belonging to someone; you were a free woman, with a mind of your own, or at least you used to. But belonging to Jimin wouldn’t be a bad thing, you supposed. You wondered if Jimin really meant it. Did he really want to keep you for himself? If he did and you hoped he did, that would be a good thing. Or at least it would make the whole thing a little bit more acceptable. You could accept being used by him. You could accept being his toy. And hey, maybe it would lead you to a way to escape!

With a long and tired sigh, you decided that you couldn’t just stay in this room. You jumped from the bed, put back your dress and started walking towards the door. But the moment you grabbed the knob, you hesitated. You glanced over your shoulder at the now messy red sheets, images of Jimin flooded your mind.

Stop it, you told yourself. Sleep was what you truly needed and as for thinking about the time with Jimin, it could definitely wait till the morning. With this thought on mind, you left the room.

The halls were empty, not like you expected to see anyone at this ungodly hour of the night. Maybe some girls were already back in their rooms, maybe some were still with their clients, in the end it didn’t matter as long as you could get back to your room without trouble. Except, you weren’t that familiar with the halls yet. You never really had the chance to wander around the place and they hadn’t thought about giving you a map. What for right?

You tried to remember the last time you were brought from your room to this place, it wasn’t supposed to be hard to remember but the dim light and all the halls looking the same to you did confuse your tired mind.

You wished Yoojin was with you but you guessed she had her own client to entertain.

After five minutes of wandering around, you realized that there was no way you could find your way back. If only you had paid more attention to the road last time, it would have avoided you the trouble. But soon enough, you not finding the way back to your room became the least of your problem. Someone had been following you. Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized till you halted that you weren’t alone anymore. No, there was definitely someone lurking in the shadows.

You held your breath, heart roaring in your ears as panic spread inside your guts. Who was it? What if it was some kind of creep that left one of the room and on his way out found you? What if he found you at his taste and wanted something from you?

No Y/N, you need to toughen up, you told yourself as your hand squeezed into a fist, tightly till your knuckles turned white. You refused to succumb to panic. Not again. You resumed your walking, trying desperately to control your body. Harder to do than to say. Your legs kept trembling and so did your hands, whoever was following you couldn’t have missed out this fact, you believed.

Lost and tired, there wasn’t much you could do in the end by yourself. So you stopped. Taking a deep breath, you did the only thing you could: face your fear. So you did, you turned around only to bump into a firm chest. Before you could even react, you were pushed gently against the wall. You shut your eyes tightly, refusing to face whoever had you trapped against the wall.

And here you thought things couldn’t get worse.

A man chuckled. “You’re cute.”

The sound of such a deep, soothing voice forced you to crack open one eye just to make sure that the man wasn’t some kind of creep. And what a man! A handsome one, just like Jimin, and so out of place. Just like Jimin. You stared blankly at him, lost in your contemplation.

“Who are you?” There was a trace of fear and uncertainty in your voice. Was he a threat? Was he just passing by?

But the man didn’t answer, instead he grasped your chin and tilted it up, staring right into your eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat and your heart beat faster. Never in your life had you met someone with such deep and intense eyes. With one simple glance he could silence someone, you believed. Despite his handsome face, he was intimidating and inspired fear. At least you felt like that.

“Huh. I know Jimin is territorial but I must say he had outdone himself this time.” He commented as his eyes traveled from your face to your neck. He tilted your face, exposing your neck to his eyes.

“How do you-“

He freed your chin and moved his face close to yours, his warm breath fanning over your lips. You blinked and pressed yourself to the wall hoping it could help you to avoid his proximity. In vain obviously, but your attempt made him smirk.

“I was supposed to be your client for the night.” He admitted and took a step back to let you breathe. For that, you silently thanked him and put a hand over your chest, feeling your heart pounding against your ribs. You counted till ten and exhaled. Only then his words fully dawned on you.

“What?”

“Surprise?” He laughed heartily and ruffled his hair (those curls were too damn tempting, you thought, and wondered what it would be like to rake you fingers through his hair).

“Why then?”

“Why?" He repeated, sounding almost as if he was mocking you, as if the answer was obvious. Which clearly wasn’t. "Jimin asked me nicely to fuck off and since I’m a nice friend I agreed. Though now," And he eyed you from head to toes, "I’m regretting it.”

You couldn’t tell whenever this man was joking or not. One moment he looked at you like you were a prey and the next he would be laughing, looking almost childish and like a good guy. What a weirdo.

“And yet, here you are, following me in the middle of the night.”

“Maybe I’m a little curious about you.” He winked playfully. “I liked your little show by the way.”

You chewed on your cheek. It was a tricky situation. Maybe he was just curious and would let you go back to your room (not like you still knew the way back) if you satisfy his curiosity, that would be the best outcome for you. But maybe, he wanted exactly what Jimin had. You didn’t want that.

The young man slid his fingers along your arm, feather-like touches, you got goosebumps all over your body. Yes, he wanted something more than just answers. But you were done for tonight, you decided. You tried to slap his hand away from you but he was faster than you thought (you should have guessed that if he knew Jimin, then, he wasn’t just a random client that had decided to mess with you) and pinned your wrist above your head.

“Did you fight Jimin too?” He licked his lips and your eyes followed the movement of his tongue which was a very bad idea since it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Who are you?” You asked instead.

It was a foolish attempt but to your biggest surprise, he actually answered. “Kim Taehyung, my lady. You should remember my name.”

You noted it in back of your mind. Something told you that even if you managed to escape this uncomfortable situation, it wouldn’t be the end either.

“And what do you want from me, Taehyung?”

“Oh doll. I like how my name sounds coming from your pretty lips.” He licked his lips (was it a habit, you wondered)as his eyes eyes looked down on your lips, imagining already what those pretty mouth could do. “How about a blowjob?”

“Get lost.” Oddly enough, you managed to answer without even blinking.

“How sad.”

You didn’t think he could surprise you again. But he did. Taehyung freed you and pouted. This man, the one who managed to intimidate you, to overpower you with one simple glance, was actually pouting because you said no to a damn blowjob. Were all the guys in this place weird? It seemed so.

“You’re just as weird as Jimin.”

Taehyung burst into laughter at that, clapping his hands as if you had said something extremely funny. “Just so you know, I’m the weirdest between the two of us.”

Yes. No doubt, this guy was weird.

For a second, you relaxed in his presence but quickly regained composure just in case he tried something funny again.

He didn’t. Taehyung smiled at you and stretched his hand for you to take. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You hesitated before deciding to accept his hand. You were too tired to think.

“Nice to meet you too. I guess?”

“I’m the best thing that could have happened to you, baby.”

You cringed at his words and apparently he noticed it too because he laughed heartily and squeezed your hand harder.

“Come on. Let me bring you to your room. Never knows what kind of creeps you can meet in those halls.”

“Are you talking about yourself?”

✼

"Rise and shine sunshine!" Yoojin barged into your room (without forgetting to knock), before beaming happily at you.

You cracked one eye open, looked at her and decided that the best thing to do was to completely ignore her and snuggle back to your very soft blanket. That was your initial plan. At least until Yoojin grabbed the edge of the blanket and pulled it completely from you.

"Yoojin!" You groaned in protest, trying desperately to grab your blanket before it was out of your reach. You grasped the edge but one strong pull from Yoojin and the blanket escaped from your grasp and fell on the floor. And here you thought you could sleep some more. "What the heck?"

Yoojin was ready to answer to that question and probably tease you, but then, her eyes fell on your exposed legs and instead she frowned. "What the heck?" Only then, Yoojin took a proper look at you. Your legs weren't the only place that grabbed her attention. "Guess someone had a wild night." She ended up smiling and sat on the bed. "Want to talk about it?"

Did you want? A part of you did indeed want to share a piece of your mind but another part told you to be wary even with Yoojin, no matter how nice she was.

You shrugged before stretching like a cat and yawning. "Nothing much to say. I did my job."

"Fine by me. But if one day you need to talk to someone, my door is open." Yoojin said with a smile, accepting the fact that you didn't want to talk about it. "Let's have breakfast?"

"Here?"

"There is actually a kitchen."

"Seriously?"

There was so much about this place that you still didn't know.

You agreed without thinking twice.

Yoojin gave you twenty minutes to get ready before coming back for you. You rushed to take a hot , very much needed shower. Twenty minutes later (and barely on time), you were clean and dressed in an oversized t-shirt that you had found in your new closet and a pair of jeans.

"Let’s go." Yoojin welcomed you in the hall and showed the way. This time, and just to make sure that last night never happen again, you forced yourself to remember every details, every halls, stairs you took.

"How big is this place actually?" You asked while your eyes wandered all around the place. "I remember Jack brought me to the highest level to see Jimin but I was too scared to pay attention to the floor."

"Right." She approved, finding it silly that she hadn’t explained it earlier to you. "There are twelve floors and three undergrounds levels. You’ve already seen the level two with the bar, the first level is for our job."

"What’s on third?"

"Better not to ask."

You took it as some dark business was going in there and you should indeed not ask if you didn’t want even more trouble. You didn’t, so you didn’t pry.

"Some of the floors are for us. Compared to other brothel, they take care of us - I know it’s hard to believe but they do. We have the second, third and fifth floor for us. The kitchen and the rest room is on fifth floor by the way. As for the rest floors, I’m not sure for all of them but there are definitely more rooms for Jimin and his peers. Probably some training rooms too."

In other words, this place was huge.

"Why would they have everything in one building?" It was unusual and seemed weird to you.

"What make you think it’s the only building?"

"Right. Silly of me."

"You should really consider being nice to Jack and the others. Being loyal to them has its perks." Yoojin insisted. "If you prove your loyalty, they will give you more freedom. Of course, you won’t be able to go back to your normal life but they’ll let you go out, do shopping, eat outside."

"Seriously?" It took you off guard; you tilted your head, having a hard time to believe that it never caused them trouble by letting their girls out. "Don’t tell me, none of them tried to escape?"

Yoojin crinkled up her nose at the rather unpleasant memory, a memory it took her months to forget; she wasn’t thrilled at the idea of sharing it with you but you needed to be warned. "One tried." She stopped walking and fully faced you. "It got ugly. They set an example for the others."

A little bird told you that ugly was an understatement.

"Mina was her name. She stayed with us for maybe three months? She was rather pretty, I guess, and worked hard. But when she had the chance, she got back to her family. Of course, they brought her back."

"Did they kill her?" You gulped hard, nervous.

"Death would have been better for her." Yoojin sadly said. "They brought her family too. Killing her would have been useless, so they made her watch as they wiped out her whole family including her little brother who was what? Six? She begged them, but they didn’t listen." She stopped to breathe, closing her eyes for a short moment. "They never do."

"What did they do to her?" There was another question at the tip of your tongue. Was Jimin the one to make the decision? Highly possible.

"They let her live. Even if I’m not sure ‘live’ would be the right word. She was sold to another brothel and believe me, those guys are the worst. I’m sure she’s an empty and soulless shell."

It was awful, terrifying, traumatizing experience really. No wonder, none of them tried to outsmart them after this woman’s case. You should rethink about your own decision; it was dangerous, not only for you but for your loved one. You couldn’t imagine how this woman felt watching her loved one being killed one by one. Despair? Heartbreak? Devastation? Probably so much more. You were sure of one thing: you didn’t want to experience it, ever.

"So, make sure to never betray their trust. It’s the only advice I can give you."

Noted, you were about to say but then something else crossed your mind.

"Are you saying that they will accept to give me some freedom if I do my job right? Even to someone like me?" You asked one more time just to make sure that you understood, no, because it was hard to believe that they would let you out.

Yoojin didn't get a chance to confirm it, and you weren't so sure she would have; the door to the lift opened and you both froze at the sight of two men. Jimin and another(way older than Jimin) man you had never seen. However you barely looked at the other man, your eyes instantly looking at Jimin. You didn't think you would see him so soon, especially not when the images of last night were still so vivid.

Jimin, on the other hand, looked pleased with your sudden apparition, grinning widely at you, his eyes were on you and only you (which was weird, considering Yoojin was there).

Yoojin cleared her throat, rather awkwardly. "We'll take the next one."

But before the doors could close, Jimin blocked the doors with his hand. "No, there's enough room for all of us."

You glanced nervously at Yoojin, hoping she could say no (as if someone could ever say no to Jimin), but she only sighed and got inside, leaving you no choice but follow her steps.

Yoojin stood by the older man while you had to stand beside Jimin. Your whole body tensed at the proximity, it was too close, too soon, and feeling the warmth emanating from Jimin's body only made things worse. You wished the floor could open under your feet and swallow you whole, you wanted to get out as far as possible from the man. But there was no way out.

To distract yourself from the tension in the air, you counted in your head, but all efforts were ruined barely a second later when Jimin's hand brushed lightly yours. It was enough to make you shudder and stop breathing. You glanced nervously to the side, to see if any other occupant had noticed the gesture - none of them did. The man was just as tensed as you, you noticed, but obviously for different reasons, while Yoojin blankly stared at the door.

You hoped Jimin would behave and stop with just a brush of his hand. He didn't. His fingers stroked softly your arm, up and down, getting you worked up for no reason. You bit on your lips in order to control your body, to control your roaring heart but without much success.

Bloody hell, why can't you stop, Jimin. It occurred to you that Jimin's new hobby seemed to be pushing all your buttons, watching you silently squirm and curse him, knowing all too well that there was nothing you could do. Nothing you would dare to say while there were others around you.

Fortunately for you, the lift stopped at the fifth floor and Yoojin grabbed your arm and pulled you without saying anything, not even a 'see your later' or a 'goodbye'. Quite rude in your opinion and quite unusual for her too.

"Yoojin." Jimin's voice made you both halt in your tracks and you felt Yoojin's grip around your arm tightening. It was borderline painful but somehow you managed not to show it.

There was something going on, something you didn't understand about Jimin and Yoojin's relationship - it made you curious. You glanced over your shoulder only to see Jimin's frown, lips set in a hard line, irritation pricking at him.

"Come to see me after breakfast." With that the door closed on them.

Now that was intense.

"Yoojin, can you let go of my arm now?" You asked softly

Your words did it work - she jolted as if you had burnt her. Looking back at your arm, she spotted the very visible, red, handprint.

"I'm so sorry!" She rushed to apologize, guilt written all over her face.

"Don't mention it." You dismissed his apology and smiled. "What's up with you and Jimin? Are you in trouble?"

You thought, so far, Yoojin wasn't hard to read; she was easy-going, very straight forward, caring and had a rather good aura around her. And yet, now that you were looking at her, she seemed like a whole different person.

Apparently, Jimin was a sensitive subject for her.

"Doesn't matter." She resumed her walking.

She couldn’t make it any clearer. You would be lying if you said you weren’t curious, you could only imagine what could have happened between Yoojin and Jimin but something told you that all your theories were far from the truth. You shrugged to yourself and decided not to pry.

The kitchen was nothing like the kitchen you had pictured in your mind. It was huge, modern, animated and very bright which was such a huge contrast with this place. Feet rooted to the floor, your eyes wandered all around the place, admiring the big room. Many girls had gathered in the room; some were laying on the couches by the windows, some were having their breakfast by the tables. But they all had one thing in common: looking tired as hell. No needed to be a genius to guess that most of them had a rough night and on some it showed more than others.

One girl caught your attention. Instead of drinking coffee or tea like would do any normal human being, she was drinking something that awfully looked like whiskey. It took you aback but only for a second. A proper look on her was all it took to understand her state; a large handprint around her neck.

Yoojin who had noticed that you weren’t following her around glanced at you and quickly realized what was going through your mind. "It happens from time to time."

It shouldn’t sound so normal, so casual like nobody cared. This woman could have been dead by now but apparently you were the only one feeling concerned.

"And what does Jack say?" You asked despite knowing already the answer.

"Nothing. Whoever was the client paid for her, we have no saying and Jack doesn't care." Yoojin thought for a moment. "He cares for some of us." And the perfect example walked through the door, much to Yoojin’s dismay (she did silently hoped not to see this woman). "Her." She discretely pointed at the young woman. "This is Suah, Jimin’s favorite toy which makes her above many of us and off limits. If something happens to her, well, I wouldn’t want to be in Jack’s shoes."

Now that you saw her, it wasn’t that hard to imagine Jimin liking her, scratch that, no men could possibly ignore her. Everything about her was attractive. Body? Check. Face? Check. Beautiful, long, wavy red hair that framed a heart shaped face. Chestnut eyes that would have been beautiful to you if it wasn’t for the way they shone as they wandered around the place, judging everybody.

Yoojin groaned as Suah’s eyes met hers; the confrontation was now inevitable. You weren’t sure how you felt about meeting her, but at least it gave you the chance to make your own opinion on the woman.

"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. Were you avoiding me, Yoojin?" Suah shook her head in feign deception.

"Now why would I?" She gave a bitter laugh and rolled her eyes.

"Oh I don't know. Maybe because I stole so easily your spot?" Suah laughed, obviously proud of what she had managed to do.

You didn't know what was up between the two women but seeing how proud and arrogant Suah acted was enough for you to decide that you weren't fond of this woman.

Sensing your eyes on her, Suah looked at you, quirking a brow and quickly realizing who you were. Not like it was very hard considering the fact that she knew all the faces around this place.

"You must be the newbie. How was it? Your first time, I mean."

It was a simple question that shouldn't have annoyed you so much but it did, probably because of the way she asked it, looking all smug as if she knew it was probably unbearable for you.

Jimin's toy huh?

"Actually, it was good since it was with Jimin." You answered nonchalantly, holding her gaze with just as much intensity. "He took good care of me." And you weren't lying, Jimin did indeed take care of you.

Suah's smirk vanished from her pretty face at your words as if you had poured a bucket of cold water over her head. "Is that so?"

Unable to think of a proper comeback, she shrugged and left you alone.

"Seems to me like someone is offended." You told Yoojin. "So, how about this breakfast? I'm starving."

After breakfast, there wasn’t much you could do to busy yourself. It sucked and the boredom was slowly killing you. You weren’t the kind of person who could stay in your room for days without doing much. There were, of course, days you could do it but it didn’t happen that often. No, you were the type of person to go out whether it was for a meal with your friends or alone; a coffee shop, library, anything to busy yourself.

But here? What exactly were you supposed to do? You envied the girls that could actually go out. Maybe one day you would be able too.

As for now, there was only one thing that came out to your mind: visit the place. Jack had never said anything about not wandering around and after Yoojin’s explanation, let’s say you got a little curious about the place.

You decided to start your exploration from ground zero, trying to remember everything Yoojin had told you about the place and the details about every floors. You weren't surprised to meet two quite impressive guards by the main door, both of the men looked your way, suspicious for a second (or maybe they had already heard about the newbie who tried to fly), weighting the risks of you trying to force your way to escape. You, of course, had no intention on trying. Not yet. You waved your hand to say hi and turned your back to them, but before doing so you saw their bewildered faces. They clearly didn't expect that which made you chuckle and go your way.

You wandered around the ground floor, not knowing what really to expect. Some doors were, sadly for you, closed but some weren't but nothing exciting inside, just offices. Boring, you thought.

Until you came upon a door much bigger and larger than others. It made you halt before it and stare. You glanced behind to make sure that nobody was here to guard it and once sure, you pushed the door. But what you found inside was beyond imagination. A huge wooden deck that led to a garden.

What is a garden doing in a place like this?? It confused you but you didn't waste a second and stepped inside, closing the door behind you so nobody would see you.

The place was absolutely breathtaking and you wondered why Yoojin forgot to mention something this huge and beautiful. Didn't they spend some times here? It was so relaxing.

The deck itself was surrounded by big plants, some you recognized, some you didn't, and in the middle of it there was a table, chairs and on the side a bench with cushions on it. It made you wonder who decorated this place. Can't picture Jimin gardening or relaxing here.

You walked slowly around the place, eyes going from one place to another until your feet led you to the garden itself. A small fountain stood in the middle which only added to the eerie a peaceful atmosphere.

Whoever was taking care of this place was a genius you decided. There was such a big varieties of plants and trees growing in there, some even rare which you had seen only in magazines. You spotted a range of bat flower which you recognized by their unique shape and color. They were even prettier than on pictures.

You didn't even have time to get up that you spotted beside a row of guinea hen flowers this time.

"Well, hello there." You smiled to the flowers, eyes shining brightly at all the marvelous flowers. "You're all too pretty for a place like this."

As you spoke to the flowers, you found yourself wishing that you knew who was behind this fascinating place, just so you could beg this person to let you spend time here and maybe help out. You wouldn’t mind spending your time gardening, it was a honorable job.

"At least you don’t feel alone." You spoke to the flowers, envying a little that they were all together while you were left alone.

"And who are you?" A rough voice echoed from behind you, startling you as you fell right on your butt. "Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you."

Note for yourself: start paying attention to your surroundings instead of daydreaming.

Despite your initial shock, you quickly recovered and got back on your feet with a little help from the stranger who had outstretched his hand for you to take. He pulled you to your feet with so much ease, it was disconcerting. But you weren’t that surprised either. Now that you stood just in front of him, you realized just how tall he was, towering over you so easily.

"So? Who are you?" He asked more gentler, giving you a comforting smile (that showed adorable dimples on his face) to make you more at ease.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, regaining your composure. "I’m Y/N." And you was on the tip of your tongue but you held back. Did you actually want to know who he was? Whoever he was, he was obviously part of Jimin’s business and you weren’t particularly avid of meeting more of them.

His eyes, however, at the mention of your name lightened up. He had heard of you, there was no doubt about it which, you weren’t so sure, was a good thing. Warily, you took two steps back, a part of you ready to escape at the first sign of danger. If there was any.

"Don’t be scared." He read through you. "I’m Kim Namjoon."

"And a friend of Jimin, I suppose?"

He smiled at that. "You suppose well."

This Namjoon’s behavior was odd. Not as odd as Taehyung’s on your first encounter, but it was still odd. He acted calm, composed, was smiling and acting nice. This was specious. All alarms in your head rang in alert, telling you to be very careful and watch out for your words.

"Then Y/N, what are you doing in my garden?" Namjoon asked

"It’s yours?" Now that was a good new, maybe it wasn’t such a bad encounter after all. But then you paused and eyed him from head to toe. "You don’t strike me as a gardener."

Namjoon laughed at that. "You’re right. Sadly, I don’t have enough time to take care of my kids."

You had to bite back the ‘aw’ that was about to leave your mouth. This big man, a gangster on top of that, considered those flowers as his kids. But Namjoon saw right through you; he crossed his arms over his chest, feigning being offended with your reaction. "Oh, laugh all you want, lady, but it’s true, those flowers, trees, I was the one who planted them."

"Really?"

Namjoon nodded his head and approached a bush of red roses. "I’ve always loved gardening and I used to have time for them. Now I have to appoint someone to do the work for me."

It was all you needed to hear - you didn’t let him finish and grabbed his arm with both your hands. "Can I do it for you?"

When Namjoon had heard of you for the first time, he didn’t think much about it. You weren’t the first one to grab Jimin’s attention and you wouldn’t be the last. When Jimin had told him that you made him feel something, he didn’t believe it either. And yet, now that he saw you, looking with hopeful big eyes, he reconsidered.

"Why would you want to do that?" He fully turned to look at you instead of his roses.

"I don’t like this place." He quirked a brow at that, seeming amused. "Oh don’t look at me like that. It’s true. I don’t like it here. I don’t know how the others can stay in their room for the whole day- I can’t. But I can’t go out either, I know that. It’s driving me crazy not being able to feel useful. And this?" You spread your arms widely to show the whole place. "It’s beautiful, peaceful but lonely too. If you’re telling the truth, I bet the person who you appointed to this task doesn’t even like it as much as you do and flowers can feel it. I want to take care of them, talk to them."

Fascinating, Namjoon thought. Your words hit close to home. Indeed, Johnny wasn’t very pleased with this task, in fact, he wished he could have burnt the garden long ago. He was a killer, not a damn gardener and of course Namjoon knew how he felt about it too. But here you were, a tiny, interesting woman, asking for work and giving him good reasons to give it to you.

"Please."

"Fine. But one one condition." Namjoon approved.

At this point, you didn’t care what his condition was as long as you had a way to escape from your boredom. "Anything."

Namjoon smirked at that, playfully. "You shouldn’t say anything. What if I have ill intention?"

He was right but you had a hard time to believe that someone who loved so much his garden could actually be evil (he clearly could, considering he was working in this place too). "I don’t think you do."

"And you’re right." He admitted. "You need to keep it secret. About this place, about me."

You raised a brow, taken aback with his request. Why would he want to keep it a secret? You shrugged and didn’t pry - you were too happy with the outcome.

"Fair enough!"

"Then we have a deal, Y/N."

When you opened the door to your room, you had only one thing on mind: sleep. Although this thought didn't linger; Jimin was in your room and more exactly laying on your bed and scrolling on his phone.

It wasn't an unpleasant sight or surprise. In fact, if you ignored the fact that he was your very dangerous boss, it would have looked like your boyfriend was waiting for you. Except Jimin was anything but your boyfriend.

"What are you doing here, Jimin?" You walked to the bed, your hands placed on your hips as you tried to look composed and stern. As if it would work on Jimin.

"Why? Can't I say hi?" He answered without looking up from his phone.

Rude.

"You saw me this morning."

"And so?"

You had nothing to answer to that. There was no logic and you didn't want to think of a proper comeback.

You didn't need to. Jimin's next question explained pretty well his presence. "How did you manage to upset Suah the moment you meet her?"

You could make a whole list of reasons of why you didn't like this woman but Jimin's presence only confirmed Yoojin's words: Suah was Jimin's favorite toy and was untouchable. You couldn’t believe she went to Jimin to complain about you (you actually didn’t remember giving her a reason to complain about you, yet).

You pressed your lips together and simply stared at him trying not to scoff at his question. "Do you want to hear my reasons or do you prefer a lie?"

It finally got his attention. Jimin looked up from his phone and cocked a brow at you. You never ceased to amuse him. Truth was, Jimin could easily guess your reasons, he had seen how Suah behaved with those she considered weak and bellow her. "Entertain me."

"Your choice." You shrugged, "She was rude and was a bitch to Yoojin."

Jimin chuckled and shook his head. "You picked a side then." He moved to the side of the bed to get closer to you. "You shouldn't though. Not in a place like this." He sat, legs spread wide enough for you to stand in between which you did willingly.

"It doesn't change the fact that she was rude and arrogant." Actually, talking about her was enough to make you scowl and sulk. You didn’t want to think and even less talk about her when you were in a rather good mood thanks to Namjoon. "And why the hell she assumed, quite proudly I’d add, that I had a terrible first time. It was as if she wanted me to have a bad first time."

Jimin chuckled, finding it quite endearing how you scowled, nose scrunching at the memory. His fingers slid along your wrist before wrapping them around your fingers and bringing them closer to his lips. Eyes fixed on you, he placed soft kissed on each finger, making you gulped hard at the sight, at such intimate gesture. He was making it extremely hard for you; how were you supposed to think straight when he was being so gentle?

"You can’t blame her for thinking it went bad." He commented, his lips lingering on your knuckles.

"No. It’s how she wanted it to be terrible! You should have seen her face when I told her you took care of me." You huffed. There was honestly nothing to be proud of, you gave yourself to a man who wanted to sell you to other men, but you couldn’t help it.

"Y/N."

"You can't make me like her."

"Oh but I'm not trying to. I'm just giving you an advice."

"Heard it. Noted. Next?"

"Next?" Jimin put his hands on your hips and brought you closer to him. "I can think of few things we could do." He finished with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

Now saying no to him would be highly unwise and yet you weren't in the mood to say yes to his every wish. You circled your arms around his neck, running your fingers through his soft hair. "Me too."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah." You pushed him lightly so he would fall back on the bed but before he could try anything else, you fell on the bed beside him. "Sleep."

Jimin groaned in response, bewildered that you got him so easily, but to your utter surprise instead of protesting and reminding you (not like you needed) one more time who was in charge here, laid beside you, face turned towards you. "Way to ruin the mood."

"Oh I'm sorry, you wanted something else?" You joked, feeling extremely satisfied with his defeated expression.

"I did but now I'm considering sending you downstairs." And by downstairs he implied the club.

"No you won't." You stated. There was no way he would, not when he was getting all comfortable with you.

Jimin huffed in response and rolled closer to you, wrapping an arm around you. "No, I won't. I'm not sharing."

You would be lying if you said that your heart didn't miss a beat. You would be lying if you said his words didn't give you hope. You buried your face into your pillow to hide from Jimin, too scared that your feelings were written all over your face.

It wasn't your style to barge into someone's room, or in this case an office, without knocking, but you were bored, annoyed and confused which made you forget all about your manners.

Two days.

You were left alone for two days. No working, no Jimin and no Jack. You managed to busy yourself with Namjoon’s garden of course, without people noticing it, but it wasn’t enough to occupy a whole day. For this reason, you decided to visit Jack.

Jack was behind his desk, reading what looked like a report and he barely even blinked at your sudden apparition. Actually, he completely ignored your rudeness and you for that matter.

"Jack." You called him and closed the door behind you just in case but he still didn't pay you any attention. But maybe he should have remembered but you were a stubborn one and wouldn't give up so easily.

"Jack." You repeated, crossing your arms over your chest you frowned at him. If he didn't want to talk, you would get more daring (only because you were too bored and it was driving you crazy). "Asshole, look at me when I'm speaking to you!"

That did it work. Jack raised his head, annoyance written all over your face and you had to fight the urge to hide (you did after all call this man an asshole and ordered him around).

"What do you want?" He groaned, "Can't you see I'm busy?"

You could care less. "And I'm bored."

It took him approximately five seconds to proceed your words. "Are you serious?"

"Actually, I am."

"Y/N. Did you just barge in my office, called me asshole just because you're bored?" He asked just to be sure. The nerve.

"And you're slow."

"Don't test my patience." He warned you. He put the report back on his desk however, and crossed his hands on the desk. "What do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know? Ain't I supposed to work? And what am I supposed to do during the day??"

You weren't particularly excited about your work, but you couldn't spend any more days stuck in your room or in the kitchen. They had to give you something.

Jack rubbed his temples, you were giving him a headache with just your presence. He did expect to see you one day or another but he wasn't looking forward for it. What was Jimin even thinking? Should have gotten rid of her.

"Do you want to work?" He asked

"Not really." You admitted, there was no point in lying.

"Then what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be happy that we're not forcing you?"

Isn't it weird though? You wanted to know the reason. Was it because of Jimin? A tiny part of you believed so, but the rational part of you thought it was because of something else.

You sighed in defeat. You didn't want to fight with Jack, it would do you no good. "Can't you give me something to do? Can I help?"

At first, Jack was ready to say 'not, but he reconsidered your offer. He had, after all, a lot on his hands and a little bit of help would be appreciated, but would you be a good help he wasn't so sure.

The decision was, however, made for him. Before he could accept your offer, the door swung open and revealed a very joyful Taehyung. Seeing him in broad daylight hit differently; his hair were a mess of curls, his shirt was half unbuttoned and he was carrying his black jacket in his hand.

Taehyung beamed happily at the sight of you, suddenly forgetting all about whatever he had on mind and definitely forgetting that he had just barged into Jack's office (and almost breaking the door with his kick you might add).

Jack was positively done with both you and Taehyung (you could blame him for the latter).

"Y/N!" Taehyung quickly got by your side, too fast even which made you take at least two steps back just in case he decided to jump on you. "What are you doing here? Bothering Jack?"

"Aren't you the one bothering him?" You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest as you quirked a brow at his unfounded accusation (though he could be right seeing how Jack was ready to murder both of you).

"I never bother Jack!" Taehyung put a hand over his heart, feigning innocent, "Right Jack?"

Jack decided not to answer that for the sake of his own sanity. Dealing with Jimin's mood swings and weird wishes, he could, but dealing with Kim Taehyung? He just couldn't.

"Yeah. Seems convincing." You mocked

"Fine. Maybe you're right." Taehyung conceded unwillingly. "Still, what brings you here?"

"Boredom." You didn't hesitate to say. If Jack couldn't give you something to work on, then maybe, Taehyung would.

Taehyung's whole face lightened at your words and he clapped his hands, liking the idea that crossed his mind. "That's it!"

"Oh I don't like the sound of it." You heard Jack muttering to himself from behind you. You glanced at him before averting your eyes back on Taehyung. Were you about to regret your words? It seemed so.

"How about you come with me shopping?" Taehyung suggested, leaning dangerously close to you. "I wouldn't mind some," he eyed you while licking his lips, "pretty company."

There was no way Kim Taehyung, one of the man obviously responsible for your captivity, had just suggested to do some shopping when you still hadn't proved yourself. Was he testing you?

"Are you out of your mind?" Jack snapped, unable to contain any longer his irritation.

"Relax." Taehyung took a step back from you to look at the man. "Not like she can escape from me. And not like she's going to try, are you love?"

Of course, thinking about a way to escape was on your mind, but one look from Taehyung was enough to shake this thought out of your mind. Yes, he was a strange man. Yes, he seemed careless. But he was still someone not to underestimate.

"This is a bad idea!" Jack protested, losing his composure for good. "She already tried once, Taehyung. Jimin would never agree to this."

"Jimin won't be back before tomorrow. So who cares?"

"I care!"

Taehyung rolled his eyes at him. "Chill. He won't find out. Unless, of course, if you tell him which I believe would be a very dumb thing to do." Then, he completely ignored a very tired, desperate and ready to pull his hair out, Jack, and looked at you. "So?"

"Are you paying?"

To that, Taehyung burst into laughter. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and brought you closer to his side. "Asked so nicely. How can I refuse?"

Once in Taehyung’s car, you had a second thought. Was it really a good idea to go out with him? You desperately wanted to be out of this place but you couldn’t help but feel nervous and wary. Jack wasn’t pleased either from what you had seen and yet he couldn’t stop Taehyung which only proved you that Taehyung was someone important in there.

You glanced nervously at Taehyung as he drove. "You’re not really planning on doing some shopping with me, are you?" You were sure he had better things to do than just distract you from your boredom. There had to be something else on his mind.

But Taehyung only smiled. "Why wouldn’t I?"

You slumped deeper into your seat. "I don’t know. Call it a hunch." Then you realized that Taehyung didn’t try to deny. "Am I wrong?"

He averted his eyes from the road for a mere second but it was enough for your guts to tell you that you were indeed right. There was something else.

"You’ll see."

You didn’t really expect him to bring you to a mall, but he did and to a rather huge one which made you panic. What the hell was he thinking doing? There were security cameras everywhere, it was dangerous and risky (for him obviously to be seen with you) but he didn’t seem to give a damn. No, Taehyung walked like a damn model, hands in his pockets, relaxed and glancing from time to time at some vitrine.

Am I the only one who’s worried??

Before Taehyung could enter a shop, you grabbed his hand and forced him to stop. He looked at you, surprised at first, but then his eyes went back and forth between your face and your hand that was tightly gripping his.

"We should leave." You pleaded him

"Why would we?"

"Cameras everywhere! What if I’m spotted? You’d be in trouble!"

"Then I’d kidnap you again." He took a step closer to you which would have bothered you if you weren’t so stressed with his nonchalant behavior.

"Taehyung! This is serious!"

Taehyung shook his head, amused at how genuinely anxious you were. "I’m damn serious too."

He took you by surprise by bringing your hand to his lips and planting a soft kiss on your knuckles. "You have nothing to worry about. Now, come on." And he pulled you along with him.

Shopping with Taehyung was nothing like you had imagined. When you asked him if he was the one paying for you, it was mainly meant as a joke but somehow Taehyung took it very seriously. And by serious you meant: he bought everything that grabbed your attention, whenever you had tried it or not. You didn’t even need half of the stuff he got you but fighting with Kim Taehyung proved to be a waste of time and energy: he didn’t listen. It took you approximatively three stores to realize that Taehyung had been carrying more bags than he was supposed to.

"You need to stop." You told him, hands on your hips, you tried to look as threatening as possible - Taehyung blinked and shrugged as if it was nothing. He walked past you, heading already to another store. "Kim Taehyung!"

Someone, please, stop this man. But you weren’t sure anybody would be able to stop a man like him. You followed him inside another store, but as soon as you got inside you frowned. Did he really need to bring you to a lingerie shop?

"Taehyung!" You tried to call for him. In vain.

Taehyung was far more enthusiast than you were. You watched him going from one row to another, completely unfazed with your sulking. Instead, he chose a few models and brought them to you, grinning widely and proudly at you.

"Try those, I’m sure they’ll look good on you."

You were so close to say ‘no’ and a ‘go to hell’ but a quick look on the lingerie and you forgot all about it. You had to admit it, Kim Taehyung had great tastes and would be a big fat liar if you said you didn’t like what he chose for you. Because you did. It was sexy, beautiful and absolutely your style.

With a huff, you grabbed it from him and walked past him without looking back - he was following you with a proud smirk plastered on his face. Kim Taehyung one, you zero.

You pulled the curtain behind you; you took a moment to decide where to start. Taehyung had chosen the right colors for you, some black (classic), some red and a dark blue, all with lace and some with ribbons that awfully reminded you of your first meet with Jimin. Just to avoid thinking about him, you chose to try the black one first. The lace felt divine and delicate against your skin . But what made this set even better was the thin chocker detail. You had to admit that you loved the reflection in the mirror.

Shyly, you pulled the curtain a little, making sure that except Taehyung nobody would see you.

"Ready?" Taehyung asked. Looking up from his phone, he lost his voice the moment he saw a glimpse of you. "Damn. We’re buying this one." He pulled at the curtain, exposing more of you. "Can you wear it for me?"

"No." You didn’t hesitate even for a second. But I wouldn’t mind wearing it for Jimin. But you couldn’t possibly tell him that, a little bird told you Taehyung wouldn’t like that.

"Meanie."

You ignored him. You were ready to pull back the curtain when you noticed that someone else was staring at you for longer than acceptable. A young woman that was obviously looking through the rows, had her eyes on you. You blinked, surprised at the blatant staring - she jolted the moment your eyes met and rushed to go her way.

"Hey." Taehyung started without trying to disturb you for once. "We should grab some snacks and a coffee? If you want."

"Sure." You wouldn’t mind for a short break. "Tired of carrying my bags already?"

Taehyung only huffed and chuckled. Yeah, shopping with Kim Taehyung wasn’t that bad.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Taehyung put your order before you, a hot cappuccino along with a red velvet cupcake - you were positively salivating just as the sight of it.

"Thank you." You waited for him to sit across from you, observing him quietly. "I just realize that I know shit about you and yet here I am, drinking coffee with you and letting you buy clothes for me."

"Girls would die to be in your shoes." Taehyung answered playfully, wiggling his brows at you. Then, he leaned a little closer just so he could whisper to you, "I can be your daddy."

Your body reacted first; you smacked his face with your hand and stuck your tongue in feign disgust. "Keep dreaming, Taehyung."

"Rude." But he wasn’t a tiny bit offended as he laughed heartily at your reaction.

Taehyung was a very likable guy despite his pretty weird character. Actually, in other circumstances, you would have loved to have a friend like him with you; there would be no days without some crazy fun going on. But sadly, considering your current situation, you couldn’t be completely sure whenever it was the real Kim Taehyung or just a facade he showed to others.

"So. What is this all about?" You tried again, hoping he would finally tell you the truth.

"Your hunch was right." Taehyung admitted, his face getting more serious as a tiny frown appeared on his model like face. "I need your help."

That was new. "I’m listening."

"I need to kidnap someone. A woman."

You bit on your inner cheek at his words. Was he planning to kidnap another girl for their business? What you didn’t understand however was why would someone like Taehyung need your help? With a woman? What for?

"With your face? You can get any girl."

"Yeah, except she’s not interested in guys."

"Oh."

He tapped his fingers on the table as his mind wandered. "She noticed you, I guess you were the right choice for this mission."

You could think only about one person: the woman at the lingerie shop. "Was she in the lingerie shop?"

He nodded. "And she is sitting by the window right now. I saw her glance at you twice by now."

To say you were hesitant was an understatement. Selling yourself was bad enough already but taking part into kidnapping and a possibility of someone getting killed because of you was worse. But did you have a chance?

"Why her?"

"She’s a very noisy journalist who’s involved with another gang." Taehyung clicked his tongue, getting annoyed at the only thought of their rivals.

"Why would a journalist be involved with a gang?"

"Because she gets information from them which pauses problems to us."

Oh, so she wasn’t completely innocent. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Even if you wanted to help him, you couldn’t simply walk to her table and talk, especially not when she clearly had seen you with Taehyung, that would be awkward and a tiny bit embarrassing. Unless I pretend breaking up with him huh.

You slammed your hands on the table, surprising Taehyung with your sudden gesture and attracting attention on both of you. He jolted upright, staring at you with big eyes, he wasn’t sure what you were about to do.

"You’re so annoying!" You hissed angrily at him. "I can’t do this anymore."

Without letting him time to understand and taking advantage of the effect of surprise, you left your place and walked to the door without looking back. Hopefully, Taehyung was as clever as he looked like and would quickly catch up with what you were trying to do. And hopefully this woman would feel bad enough for you to follow you outside.

"Y/N! Wait!" Taehyung called for you - you ignored him.

You didn’t go far however just enough to be on his sight and just enough for the woman to still be able to spot you. If Taehyung was right, she would come.

And she did. Shortly after you.

"Hey, are you ok? Y/N right?" A soft and gentle voice called from behind you. You sniffed (when did you become such a good actress?) and glanced behind you. "I’m sorry, I overheard your conversation with your boyfriend."

Boyfriend my ass. But hey, it could have been worse.

"He’s a douche." You didn’t hesitate to say, you balled your fist, anger, disappointment written all over your face. "He thought spending money on me would make things right." A scoff left your lips, "But it only made me feel cheap."

You turned fully to face the young woman; she was the same height as you but looked few years older than you. You sighed, not wanting to overdo. "I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m telling you this."

"No, no. It’s alright." She reassured you and held up her arms. "I’m Yunji by the way."

"Y/N. But you know already that." You gave her a small and tired smile.

"Do you perhaps want to go somewhere else? He’s about to come out." Yunji glanced almost nervously over her shoulder.

It took you a lot not to look behind her, not to let your guards down and ruin your efforts. "Yes, please."

Yunji took you to the underground parking lot. You weren’t really sure where she intended to bring you but you hoped Taehyung was following you and was waiting for the right moment to show up.

"I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable at the lingerie shop." Yunji apologized for something minor and that you didn’t mind that much.

Taehyung was right huh.

You shook your head and gave a reassuring smile. "No worries. Really."

At your words, she seemed relieved. She opened her bag and started looking for her keys, you supposed. Yunji softly cursed at the mess in her bag - you tensed as slow steps echoed from behind you. Yunji was far too immersed in her bag to notice or to mind the person that was getting closer and closer to you.

Your breath hitched in your throat, heart beating loudly, roaring in your ears as you expected Taehyung to appear (silently hoping he wouldn’t hurt the woman).

You were gently pushed to the side and before you could think of anything, Taehyung had already planted a needle into Yunji’s neck. She winced, it was the only thing she managed before her body went completely limp and with a blink of an eye she fell right in Taehyung’s arms.

"To be honest, and it’s embarrassing to admit," Taehyung started, glancing at you as he lifted Yunji bridal-style. "It took me a moment to understand what was going on."

"What? You thought I was trying to escape? Don’t be ridiculous." You laughed at how embarrassed he felt.

"Thank you for your help, Y/N."

There was nothing you should have felt guilty about, but truth to be told, now that you were back and left alone in the darkness of your room, your mind was going crazy. Taehyung had told you not to worry, reminded you that Yunji was a problematic journalist, but somehow it didn’t make you feel any better. No, you had willingly tricked someone. You had endangered someone’s else life. Did that make of you a bad person? You sure as hell felt like it.

But would it have changed the outcome if you had refused? Probably not.

To distract yourself from your misery, you took the book you had found on a bench in the garden, supposing Namjoon had left it behind. A book about politics, not really your favorite subject but it would do the job.

It didn’t last.

Taehyung got inside your room (for once, he knocked at the door but didn’t have enough patience to wait) bringing along with him all your bags. It was a rather amusing sight to see but you chose not to comment and instead jumped out of your bed.

"I forgot to give you back those." Taehyung smiled and put the bags at your feet. "I’m looking forward to see you in some of those."

No need to ask which outfit he was talking about, one glance at him and you knew the answer. You shook your head, amused with his attempt.

"A man can dream, Y/N!" Taehyung pouted, looking so innocent compared to the man you saw earlier.

"Sure."

You wished you could have a nice and fun talk with him. You wished you could shake from your memory the image of Yunji. But you couldn’t.

"You didn’t kill her, did you?" You asked hopeful.

"Would it change something if I did?"

Yeah, I’d feel even more guilty. But no words came out of your mouth.

Taehyung took a step towards you, putting his hands on your shoulders, he gave them a comforting squeeze. "She’s alive. Scared for her life, but I’m not planning to kill her."

"Can I trust you?"

Taehyung hesitated. He wasn’t lying when he told you he wouldn’t kill the journalist but sometimes things were out of control and he couldn’t promise you that someone else wouldn’t decide to end the woman’s life.

"Probably not."

You put your right hand on top of his, wanting to convey your feelings. Despite his words, despite everything, you wanted to believe him and maybe it wouldn’t end in a disaster.

"Do I want to know what you’re doing in her room, Taehyung?" Jimin’s voice startled both of you.

You were fast to react, moving away from Taehyung, getting rid of his hold on your shoulders. Instead of being bothered with Jimin’s presence, Taehyung looked at you, disappointed that you suddenly got scared (and you were right to be).

"Taehyung." Jimin called him again.

"Why? Can’t I visit my baby girl?"

"Taehyung."

Taehyung raised his arms in defense, laughing loudly at Jimin’s reaction, completely unbothered with how the room got cold. "Jeez. Learn to share." Then, he waved cutely at you, "See ya, Y/N!"

Don’t leave. Was what you wanted to say - you couldn’t. You watched him leaving the room, helplessly.

There was no doubt that someone as powerful, dangerous, as Jimin would one day or another get mad and it would be a very ugly sight. You believed that those dark eyes that could kill were reserved to people who disobeyed him or messed up his business for example. It was a sight you weren't looking forward to see and weren't expecting to experience. But here you were, left alone in your room with what looked like a very angry Jimin. Suddenly, you wished he would remind you with his arrogant smirk who was the boss or would ask something from you - you would agree right away. Instead, you were facing a silent Jimin who was clenching his fists and glaring at you. It made you nervous and feel guilty when you weren't supposed to. After all, you were with Taehyung who was Jimin's friend and another member of Bangtan. Yes, you were outside but you didn't try to escape, it was the opposite, you helped Taehyung. So why the hell did he make you feel like you had done something bad?

The tension in the room was getting unbearable, so thick you could cut it with a knife. There was no sound in the room, except for your uneven breathing. You didn't know where to look. At Jimin? What if he took it as a sign of defiance? At the floor? You didn't want to look weak either.

"What exactly were you thinking?" Jimin finally asked, ending your misery and uncertainty.

"I-" But truth to be told you didn't know what to say. Sorry? I only wanted to be useful? But truth to be told, none of your explanation would matter to Jimin. You swallowed down your frustration and let him do the talking.

"Do you think you're allowed to see another man when I clearly told you that you belong to me?" Jimin let out a harsh breath.

"Taehyung is your friend!" You found the courage to speak up for yourself. "And a member of your organization! It's ridiculous."

"Shut it." He barked and with a blink of an eye he was standing merely inches from you, invading all your personal space. He grabbed your chin, a grip so strong you winced. "I can be nice, Y/N. You saw it. But I can be just as bad when something that belongs, rightfully, to me, disobeys."

"I know Jimin is territorial but I must say he had outdone himself this time." You bet Taehyung hadn't realized just how territorial Jimin actually was.

Flames of anger licked through you as Jimin's words echoed in your mind. And the worst part of it was that you couldn't snap back at him. Not when he felt so dangerous and ready to snap your neck. You bit down on your ego, on your stubbornness and chose to simply lower your eyes to look remorseful.

"What do you think I'm going to do to you, Y/N?"

"Punish me?"

"Damn right." He released your chin, only for his thumb to find your lips, tracing the shape of your lips with it.

No, you wanted to say.

Jimin let go of you and turned his back to you. "I expect you to work tomorrow. I'll make sure Jack choses the right one for you."

With that he left you without a single glance, leaving you scared, angry and ready to fall.

Your nightmare was just about to begin.

#jimin #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin x reader #chapter 3 #release my heart

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 207 prt 1

207

Lotor was still a sack of shit. Keith managed to get him pinned, then the arsehole had pierced his side with his nails, fangs bared and irritation in his eyes as he stared down at Keith. The pain causing him to shift back, Lotor finding it amusing in causing him to yield, but he’d get him back. Dragging himself to the showers, the amount of blood running down the drain was alarming. Keith really wasn’t used to these kinds of wounds not being fatal. It was tiresome to have to spar in cheap shorts because the moment he shifted his clothes were ruined. Lance had taken him op-shopping. Proud that he was getting the hand of letting the shift happen. Keith didn’t think he was getting the hand of it. He only seemed to be able to shift when he was training... and then it’d taken days to be able to do it again after his first wilful shift... that he didn’t remember.

Leaving the shower, still bleeding, Keith nearly had a heart attack at Krolia sitting on the bench in front of his locker. His mother were a concerned look, that took a long moment for Keith to work out. A hot shower on top of blood loss was a silly idea. Instead of feeling clean, he felt faint

“Mum?”

Lifting the first aid kit beside her, his mother was creeping him out with her concern

“I thought you could use some help with your wounds”

“Oh... uh, they’ll heal”

Krolia sounded almost disappointed in him as she pointed to the spot next to her. He wasn’t getting out of this

“Humour me”

Be fussed over by his mother was different to being fussed over by Shiro or Lance. Lance kissed his wounds, before he cleaned them up and told him he was proud that Keith was making progress, even if he hated seeing him coming home bleeding. Shiro went to fretting and wondering if he needed stitches. Krolia went to the alcohol wipes that made him yip

“Sit still you big baby”

“Stop poking at them. They’ll heal”

“You’re very lucky you’re a wolf. You’d be dead if you were still human”

Rolling his eyes, he knew that. He knew that a hundred times over. The fact his body healed was so damn weird

“Tell me something I don’t know”

Dropping the wipe she’d been assaulting his right hand side with, his mother pulled him into a hug that left him still. He didn’t move to return the hug, nor did it feel like a nice loving hug... No. This was the kind of hug he’d gotten from Lance after his accident. The “I’m worried about you” hug that made his heart race

“Mum?”

“I want you to stop training with Lotor”

She what now? Blinking half a dozen times, Keith wrinkled his brow

“Mum, you know I’m okay...”

“I know, but I can’t stand it. I’ve been watching your training sessions with him... Keith, it scares me. I don’t want that kind of violence for you”

“We’re training...”

“You’re fine the way you are. I know you’re a skilled hunter, but every time I see you covered in blood, it hurts. I know it hurts Lance too. He called me in tears the first time it happened. He’s very proud of you, and he’d never tell you not to train. I’m very proud of you. But I think you need to take a break for a little while. You can go on patrol with Shiro, just... please... I know you heal, but I’m scared you’ll go too far”

Keith was shaking. He’d worked his arse off for this. He had yet to actually beat Lotor, but he was getting to know how his wolf. He was getting to be less scared about what he was now. Now Lance was having secret conversations with Krolia, while telling him to his face he was proud of him... and his mother was telling him not to fight? She’d fought every day of her life in more ways than one...

“I don’t get it”

He simply didn’t. He was strong. He was fast. The wounds healed. And his ego agreed with him. They could do this

“Keith... I overstepped. Just... I want you to be careful. You’re my son. I am so proud of you”

Why did it feel like there was a “but” to that?

“But?”

“I know I was never a good mother. I guess seeing your father again reminded me of a time when I didn’t have to fight... Let me finish cleaning you up”

“Mum, I’m okay. Training with Lotor is helping. It means I’ll actually know my limits in the field and be able to protect Shiro and Curtis”

“But who’s going to protect you?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. His ego said he didn’t need protecting. That they were better than those humans. The thought upsetting him as soon as it crossed his mind. Shiro was his brother. His pack. He has his back more times than Keith had hot dinners. Maybe... maybe he was getting too cocky? Maybe... he was being mean and didn’t know it? He and Lance hadn’t been very intimate since he’d started training with Lotor... Was Lance thinking he didn’t want to touch him?

“Keith?”

“I’ll think about it. You don’t have to worry about dressing the wounds. Lance will take care of it at home”

He wanted to go home to his fiancé and talk this out. He thought Lance had been proud of him. Not running to his mother because he couldn’t face him. Lance said he understood Keith’s fatigue... He’d said he was proud... Honestly, Lance not being honest upset him far more than Krolia telling him to stop

“About that. Yeah, Lance isn’t at home right now. I picked him up earlier and now he’s with Curtis and Shiro”

Had he fucked up? Why wasn’t Lance at home

“What do you mean he’s not at home?!”

“You don’t need to yell. Rieva was a little worried about him, and I wanted to borrow him anyway. He’s fine. Rieva couldn’t very well to his future mother-in-law needing to borrow him, not when I said I’d bring him to Platt”

“Mum!”

Rieva was Lance’s babysitter. He’d lapsed back into barely being able to keep his eyes open again. The female werewolf was sure labour would be coming on soon, Lance cut her down by saying he was exhausted from her and her birthing plan. Keith was exhausted from hearing about the birthing plan... and he wasn’t the one doing any of the hard work. Frankly she was slightly scary

“Again with yelling!”

“You can’t go stealing Lance”

“I didn’t steal him. Anyway, he’s safe. I needed to borrow him for the afternoon, actually, I needed to borrow both of you. Preferably for the night according to Matt”

Matt couldn’t go kicking them out their own home. Frankly Keith had enough to deal with. He wanted to hurry up and buy Lance the engagement ring already, but the engagement ring had to be the right ring. It had to match his plans for his replica of Mami’s ring. Lance never mentioned it, but he’d noticed that his fiancé had had a sad look on his face as he looked at Rieva’s new bling. They still hadn’t told anyone... and for Keith, the novelty had started wearing off. He wanted to scream and shout they were engaged... but until he got a ring for Lance, they’d only cop judgment from their friends.

“He can go fuck himself”

Three werewolves were not meant to live together when they were all worried over Lance. Matt had ever started trying to feed Lance, sacrificing his precious food to Lance who only felt worse and worse each time he did

“Don’t be like that. He’s planning Lance’s surprise baby shower. Pidge is in charge of the entertainment and drinks. Hunk and Shay are doing the catering. Rieva is decorating, and Matt is providing the muscles. Allura and Coran are going to drive down in the morning. Thankfully I had a valid reason for needing the both of you, so it all worked out rather nicely”

“Do I get to know what this reason is?”

“I think it’s better I show you rather than simply tell you”

His mother was enjoying this. Keith huffing at her in annoyance. Now his talk with Lance would have to wait, and his stupid ego would be all bent out of shape as it did. He really missed being a human.

Krolia sprung another surprise on him. He’d thought his mother had her own apartment in a seperate part of the city. Not her own apartment a floor below where Shiro’s apartment was. Confused at why they’d gotten off a floor early, the only thing that kept him huffing about it was subtle traces of Lance’s scent in the hallway. Lead down to one of the anonymous doors, Krolia took delight in opening it

“Welcome to my apartment!”

The place was decorated the same as theirs. The same primary colours, accented with black and white. Her sofa was black, instead of red, but for the most part it was disorientatingly similar. Sitting on the sofa, Lance was asleep against next to Curtis who had his arms around the vampire’s shoulder

“Hey, Keith. Come on in. Lance’s been out for about half an hour now, and Shiro’s upstairs”

Curtis’s familiarity with the apartment annoyed Keith. As Krolia’s son, he didn’t understand how he was the last to know she lived right below him. He didn’t want to deal with her shit

“Fuck this. I’m going to get my bike”

As he turned, Krolia sidestepped. Grabbing him by the wrist, he was propelled into her apartment and the door closed behind the pair of them. The look in his mother’s eyes told him he had to stay, no matter how he might feel about it

“Thanks, Curtis. I’ve got it from here”

“No worries. You know, you could have told us you actually lived her”

Kroli shrugged, smug as she did

“I would have, but none of you thought to ask”

Why did he keep letting Krolia do this to? He’d never understand her sense of humour

“Mum, you... why do you do this to me?”

“I’ve got 20 years of mum jokes to make up for. I can, and will, have this. Can I get something you something to drink?”

“Can it be alcoholic?”

Something strong. Something that burned on the way down. Something that’d make him forget his weirdo mother’s excess of weirdness and soothe his annoyance with the situation. Krolia laughed far too hard

“Keith, you my son, are a funny one. Go save Curtis from Lance and I’ll whip up something up to go with our drinks”

Taking Lance from Curtis, Lance barely stirred. Slurring his name, he smiled at Keith as if he hadn’t seen him in years, not a few hours. Snuggling into him, the vampire sighed in content. Lance wouldn’t lie to him, Krolia had to have misunderstood. Stretching, Curtis shot them both a smile. Keith not matching it as his lover smelt too much like everyone else

“He’s had some blood from a bag. He felt a bit warm earlier, so I don’t know if he’s coming down with a fever, or if he’s just super tired. One moment we were discussing our show, and the next he’d fallen asleep”

“He does that. Thanks for watching over him”

“It’s fine. He seems a bit stressed about what’s happening at home. When you’re done here, come on up. I’m going to grab some blood bags before I go home”

“Thanks. That’d be handy. How big is the party going to be?”

“Not that big. Pidge has been warned against loud noises. Hunk was having a nervous breakdown over the cake, but I think he’s got that sorted now”

“As long as he doesn’t go overboard”

“With three werewolves to feed, I don’t think even Hunk can over cater. I’ll give you our gift when you come up”

“Nah, save it until tomorrow. Lance will get suspicious if you’re suddenly giving us gifts”

“Provided he can stay awake long enough. Is he okay to be sleeping?”

“Yeah. From what we can tell it’s a pregnancy thing. I’ll keep an eye on him and call Coran if he does develop a fever”

“Okay, then I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, Krolia!”

“See ya, Curtis!”

Left alone with Lance in his mother’s den, Keith stroked his fiancé’s hair. Fresh blood would help perk Lance back up, but his mother seemed uncomfortable when he fed him, plus he’d kind of lost a fair bit thanks to Lotor. He could imagine Coran in there scraping his blood off the training room floor for testing, the werewolf’s nose wrinkling at the thought of it all. Lance could have told him if he’d acted out, or if his ego had been being mean to him. He could have told him if he was scared of who, or what, Keith was becoming. He’d nearly given up, then Lance had encouraged him to keep going... Maybe it was a hormone thing? Like when Lance had cried over the puppy in a TV commercial the other day...

Attempting to be civilised, his mother brought him out of his thoughts by placing down a serving tray with two coffees, a tea, and an unopened packet of biscuits. Squeezing herself onto the sofa, Krolia slung her arm over Keith’s shoulder

“This is nice, isn’t it?”

“That you’ve been hiding you’ve been living here? Or that I’ve got no idea what’s going on?”

He and Shiro might be hopeless decorators, but they’d managed to make the apartment feel like theirs. Krolia’s apartment lacked all the personal touches he’s become used to... plus there was a disturbing lack of fur over everything

“Both. Both is good. Now, I know I’ve ruined your plans, but I’ve got something to show you”

“It better be good. Lance should be sleeping in a proper bed”

“You can put him in mine, if you want”

“Lance is fine right here with his Keith”

Poking Lance in the side, Keith kissed Lance’s hair as he did. Mumbling Lance was a sleepy Lance

“You’re supposed to be sleeping”

“I am... can’t you tell?”

“Oh, yes, babe. 10 out of 10, best sleeper”

“I feel sick... you smell like blood”

Lance must have felt too sick to praise him for his monster dick. Thank god they weren’t having that conversation in his mother’s apartment

“Lotor got me again”

Lance huffed, nosing into Keith’s chest right near where Lotor had got him in the left side with his thumb nail

“He sucks... get it, because he’s a vampire and a wanker”

“I get it. Do you want to wake up for me? Or do you want to sleep some more?”

“Cuddles and awake”

“Okay. You going to sit up?”

“Nope. Sorry for interrupting you”

“You’re fine, babe. Mum was about to cut the crap and tell me what she wanted to show me”

“Oooh... I wanna see. Can I see?”

Krolia tried to crane past him to see Lance, Keith shifting slightly to angle his back more towards her as a barrier between the pair of them

“I thought it best that you were to see it with Keith. Are we ready?”

“Yes, please”

“Hiiiiiiii, Keith. Hey, mummy’s big boy... Hello my love. Joe, he looks just like you. Look at him. He’s got your frown. Aw, Keith. It’s okay. Daddy isn’t very scary. No, he’s not”

“Krolia, I think you’re scaring him with the camera”

“You shouldn’t have let me buy it if you didn’t want me using it”

As his father laughed, baby him let out an unhappy cry. His father rushing to hush him as Krolia’s laugh crackled.

Bundled in his father’s arms on screen, Keith had to keep blinking away the tears in his eyes. His dad. His dad was there... The camera footage was old and grainy. He looked thoroughly unamused at Krolia poking the camera so close, but... it was him. Him and his dad. His dad...

“H-how...?”

“After Lance had cleaned I managed to find these in Joe’s closet. They were down the bottom in a box without any labels. I didn’t know what was on there until I dropped the tapes in to be put on DVD... You always hated having a camera anywhere near you when you were a baby”

“Dad...”

“They could only recover footage from two of the tapes. I kept the lot, in case one day they find some way to pull the videos off... You were such cute baby. You never liked having your nappy changed. The moment the cloth touched your balls, you’d scream and scream as if I was trying to murder you”

“You would too if someone was putting a cold cloth on your balls. I didn’t know you and dad had a camera”

“It was a gift. Nothing fancy and certainly not new... I’d forgotten about it. I didn’t see it at the house, so I’ve got not idea what happened it to. Things weren’t like they are now. We didn’t have video cameras in our palms”

He and Lance agreed to keep photos of the twins off social media. Lance had seen a really messed up case during his last time through university. How the law failed parents who posted photos of their children online where they could be seen by less than desirable people. The thought revolted him

“How old was I?”

“I’d say you’re about a month or two. You got a lot more photogenic as you got older. The other video is when you’re 4”

The first video was only 5 minutes long. A really silly video of his dad trying to settle him while Krolia laughed at all his fussing.

“Keith. Hey, Keith, what are you doing?”

Younger him gave the camera a toothy grin, missing his front two. He was so small. His eyes as purple as ever

“You came off your bike and knocked them out. Joe rushed you to the doctor. You were more concerned with not being able to have homemade lemonade than about losing your teeth”

“Keith, I’m talking to you”

Young Keith was as done with Krolia’s crap as he was. Holding his purple hippo, he was twisting himself back and forth, showing off for the camera as he whined directly at the lens

“Mum, I’m waiting for dad!”

“You’re waiting for daddy? But he’s at work”

“I know he’s at work. I’m not dumb”

Huffing, young him pouted, stomped his foot and crossed his arms.

Lance snorted at him, his hand squeezing Keith’s gently

“You haven’t changed one bit. You’re so adorable”

“Wasn’t he? He loved that hippo so much...”

“Guys, I’m trying to watch the video”

He didn’t want to watch himself, but he did hope his dad would be in it. Having been warned, Lance and Krolia shut up.

“I didn’t say you were. You can do just about anything, and I think you should take me on a tour of our house so I can show daddy later”

Young him huffed again

“That’s dumb. Dad knows where everything is, mum. He’s not like you”

He was a vicious little shit

“You’re really mean to me. Don’t you love, mummy?”

“Not when she’s asking stupid questions...”

Oh god. Keith’s cheeks were flaming with embarrassment. Krolia laughing on the video

“Okay. Okay. Mummy obviously doesn’t know best. Why don’t you do a dance and I’ll film you?”

To his horror, young him shook himself out and danced on the spot. Lance laughing at his “dancing”. Finishing, he stared up at the camera, when Krolia didn’t say anything, he did it again. Parents shouldn’t be allowed cameras

“That’s my boy. Are you sure you don’t want to show me around?”

Pushing his finger to his cheek, he twisted it on the spot as if he was thinking “seriously”

“Are you going to get lost if I don’t?”

“I might”

Sigh dramatically, young him rolled his eyes heavily

“Fine, but you’ve got to remember this stuff, mum. I can’t remember everything for you all of the time. It’s too much”

Young him took them on a tour of their home. Bragging about his dad being a firefighter who rode in a huge truck. His favourite toy being his hippo, but he also loved his toy cars and had kicked a hole in the wall of his room when he’d been put in a time out. He sounded like the spawn of Satan. He definitely had far too much sass for a four year old. Krolia repeatedly scolded for her questions, laughing at him every time he got cranky with her. Seeing the house lived in, he could see the love. His things were everywhere. His “art” pinned to the fridge. Krolia slipping on his discarded skateboard, swearing loudly as she caught herself, young him happy to parrot the bad word then question why it was a bad word if mummy was saying it.

As young Keith concluded his tour, the door to the shack opened. Krolia forgotten

“Daddy!”

Rushing to his dad, the camera was placed down, the video slipping sideways as his father scooped him up.

Keith’s heart ached. His dad was everything he’d hoped he’d be. Everything he’d said he was as he passed from home to home. Yet he barely remembered him. The sound of his voice filled with so much longing to reach through the screen and hug his dad.

“Hey, kiddo! Did you have fun with mummy today?”

“Mum said “Fuck””

Young him giggled at the word as his father huffed

“I’m not surprised. Hey, hun. I see his fever went down, he’s still a bit a warm”

Krolia entered the video, his father wrapping his arm around her and kissing her on the top of her head

“Yeah. You wouldn’t have known he sick last night”

His father hiked him up on his hip, kissing Keith’s forehead

“He takes after you. Don’t you, kiddo?”

“I wanna be like daddy. Mummy is weird”

His father laughed, Krolia moving away from them

“She might be, but if you keep saying that you’re going to make her cranky”

“She’s scary when she’s mad...”

“I can still hear both of you. I think this means no dessert for either of you tonight”

Krolia moved back to the camera, the last shot was of him throwing up on his dad and bursting into tears.

A long moment passed into two. Lance grunting as he wiggled himself forward on the sofa

“Babe?”

#oncebittentwicestupid #once bitten twice stupid #ashratherose

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hyperpsychomaniac · 3 years

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Who Says You Can't Go Home - Chapter 4

Darkwing Duck (90s series) fanfiction

Sequel to my recent fanfic The Other Side of Me

Summary: Down on his luck, the Negaverse Launchpad crashes at Launchpad’s parents looking for help. Launchpad, who has avoided visiting his family since he started working with Darkwing, returns in a panic to ensure his double isn’t causing trouble. And then it gets awkward.

Chapter 1

***

“Are we there yet? I thought you said this was supposed to be fun?”

Launchpad shook his head and grinned. “Nearly there, kiddo.” The whining should have been bugging him. But he was surprised she’d actually come. This one was much more of a troublemaker than his Gosalyn had been. Not that she hadn’t upset her adoptive father on more than one occasion, but that had always been innocently. She’d been such an odd child.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No.”

“Launchpad doesn’t ignore me.”

“I’m not your Launchpad.” The Negaverse Launchpad took one last drag on his cigarette, then stomped it out under his boot and carefully kicked dirt over it. “Look, we’re here.”

They’d come upon a derelict little shack. Behind it ran an old creek bed, all but dry in the arid weather.

Gosalyn frowned. “I’m still not impressed.”

“Man, you’re a tough little nut, aren’t you?” Launchpad booted open the rusty door, and the whole hovel rattled and shook. A single, not-quite-upright support column propped up a support beam that ran across the centre of the roof. The column visibly swayed, dust rained down from the rotting ceiling and the old kerosene lamp he’d hung up bounced around, but the shack stood firm. One day he was going to send the whole thing crashing down, and that was exactly the reason Launchpad kept booting the door in so hard. Inside was littered with fuel cans, butane canisters, a couple lengths of PVC pipe, crates of bottles and cans, some old course rope, and, of course, potatoes.

Gosalyn raised an eyebrow. “Where’s the gun? This is just a pile of trash.”

Launchpad winced. The terrible thing was she was right. He really missed his rocket launcher. He scooped up the PVC pipe and tossed it to her. “Well, you’re going to learn how to make a gun from a pile of trash. Grab the other half. I’ll get the potatoes.”

Gosalyn looked at him like he’d grown another head. But he definitely had her hooked. She grabbed the other length of pipe, and carried them both outside.

Launchpad gulped at the lump in his throat. Oh man. He was getting attached way too fast. Hanging out with Gosalyn had roused that faint feeling of guilt down inside. He’d have liked to have thought he’d gotten between his Gosalyn and Negaduck once or twice, that he’d protected her. But the truth was, despite all his faults, Negaduck would never dream of physically hurting his daughter. He had other ways of keeping her in line. Launchpad had never stood between them; he’d never had the guts. He’d just been the guy who was usually around when Negaduck got so fed up with his daughter he felt like hurting someone. At least now his Gosalyn was being looked after way better then he’d ever been capable of in Negaduck’s house. She was better off without him.

Launchpad huffed and hefted up the crate of potatoes. “Bastard.” He booted one of the butane canisters and sent it spinning out the door.

“Hey!”

“Pick it up. We need it.”

Outside, Gosalyn was trying to assemble the bits of PVC pipe, her tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Here.” Launchpad set up the pipe to form the canon, resting it on its makeshift tripod so it pointed out and over the dry creek bed. Across the other side he’d previously set up crates, bottles and cans. And, most importantly, nothing that he’d get in trouble for hurling a potato clean through.

Gosalyn was picking up on the general idea. She rifled through the crate of potatoes, picked a good sized one, and rolled it down the tube. Then she scowled. “How’s a bit of plastic supposed to fire a potato?”

Launchpad picked up the tin of butane and spun it around so Gosalyn could see the ‘caution: flammable’ warning on its side. “We’re going to set this. On fire.”

“You’ve really got a theme, don’t you?”

Launchpad filled the tube with gas, and sat himself behind the pipe to line her up and make sure the recoil didn’t send the whole thing spinning off. That had been pretty funny the first time he’d fired it, and Gosalyn probably would get a kick out of the whole contraption knocking him on his ass. But he wasn’t going to risk it with the child of the superhero who probably still didn’t trust him around. Satisfied everything was set up as safe as a potato gun could be, her lit her up.

The potato shot out of the tube with a pop, sailed through the air and splattered some hundred yards across the other side of the creek.

Gosalyn’s jaw dropped. “Keen gear.”

Launchpad loaded and fired off a half dozen more. Truth was the thing was impossible to aim, and he rarely had to go out to set up new targets. Still, he somehow managed to send a potato splintering through an old crate he’d set up. He broke down laughing, which really confused Gosalyn. He’d spent far too long scratching a likeness of Negaduck into that crate, but you couldn’t actually see it from this distance.

“Okay, you weirdo. If you’re going to sit there and giggle, I think that means its my turn.”

“Alright, alright. Let me get you set up. This things got a fair bit of kick. Wait…” The sound of an engine cut into the desert air. It sounded like a motorbike. Launchpad’s eyes narrowed and his fists tensed at his sides.

“Is that a motorbike? What, what is it?”

“Probably that damn kid.” Launchpad drew in a breath, and fought down the part of himself that still wanted to deal with any annoyance with as much force as possible. He’d kept it at bay last time, even if Mrs McQuack hadn’t been entirely happy when he’d told her what happened. “I caught him riding on the McQuack’s property a few weeks ago. When I told him to clear off, he back-chatted me. So I fired a potato in his general direction. I think he got the message.”

Now, he was going to have to find some other way to deal with the situation. Mrs McQuack had told him off, despite the fact he’d made it clear he hadn’t actually fired the potato straight at the brat. She hadn’t made him do anything dumb like go apologise, but she’d told him not to fire projectiles at or near people again. Especially kids. “At least, I thought he got the message.” Launchpad shielded his eyes as he searched for the machine. It was familiar, but now he wasn’t sure it was that same kid’s bike.

“Fill her up. Check. Aim. Light her up!”

Launchpad didn’t realise what Gosalyn was doing until the PVC pipe let out a decidedly louder than normal pop. The slam of an impact and splintering wood followed a split second later.

Launchpad spun around. “Shit!”

The PVC pipe bounced and rattled along the ground then rolled to rest. Gosalyn slumped against the side of the shack where she’d been thrown, one of the brittle boards cracked and splintered behind her head.

“No, no, no…” Launchpad skidded to his knees beside her and gently shook her shoulders. “Kiddo?”

The motorbike rattled up behind him and the engine shuddered off. Even a bratty kid would help. And if he didn’t, he could donate his bike to getting Gosalyn back to the house as quick as possible.

“Oh. Wow. Nice job. She’s been here, what, three hours? I can’t believe I used to let you babysit. In fact, I can’t believe you’re still alive.”

Launchpad’s chest tightened; he couldn’t breathe. His vision grew fuzzy around the edges. All he could focus on was his trembling hands and how they engulfed Gosalyn’s tiny shoulders. Gosalyn. Launchpad finally managed to suck in a gasp of air, and the oxygen cleared his head. He couldn’t let him hurt this Gosalyn. Launchpad gathered every ounce of his strength and turned to face the voice from his past.

“You ran away from me too, didn’t you?” Negaduck. He was right. There. His yellow and black motorcycle behind him, and Launchpad wondered how he’d ever mistaken its sound for a dirt bike. “So much for loyalty.”

“What are you doing here?” Launchpad’s voice grated and caught in his throat.

“I tailed that idiot Darkwing Duck. Figured I could have a little fun out here.” Negaduck’s beak split into a wide grin. “But this is a surprise. Where’ve you been, buddy?”

“I was never your buddy. You have to leave. Now.” His voice sounded weak, pathetic. Even to his own ears.

Negaduck laughed. “Oh, someone definitely ran away, didn’t they?” The cackle cut off just as quickly, then Negaduck was right on top of him, grabbing him by the collar, pressing his beak against his. “You don’t tell me what to do!”

Launchpad stumbled back under the unexpected weight and his heart-rate rocketed. He shoved Negaduck off and threw up his guard. “Don’t touch me!”

Negaduck raised his hands and took a step back, chuckling. “Someone’s developed a backbone.”

“You can’t. Be here. You’re whole deal is Saint Canard, and Darkwing Duck, and… you can’t mess with the McQuacks. They’re good people. They don’t live in a place like Saint Canard. They can’t deal with all this superhero and villain stuff.”

“The McQuacks, huh?” Negaduck stroked his beak, completely ignoring the fact Launchpad was squared up like he wanted to fight. “Oh, you idiot, what have you been doing? Playing happy little families? This isn’t your world, you know.”

“Never stopped you from trying to take it over.”

Negaduck flung his arms wide. “That’s because I’m ambitious. But now, there’s an idea. Messing with a cute innocent country family whilst Darkwing Duck tries to protect them? Could be fun.”

“Negaduck, don’t.”

“Come on, Launchpad. You know it will be. I know I usually left you in charge of the home front. But, seeing as you’re here, why don’t we both have a little fun?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Negaduck waggled his eyebrows. “I’ll let you fly my aeroplane.”

The faintest hint of a thrill rose in Launchpad’s chest. He was actually letting him… And then, slowly, he lowered his fists. “I… I can’t believe I let you take that away from me. I’ve got plenty of aeroplanes I can fly now. And the people who own them don’t tease me with them, and make me feel like I have to earn every last little shred of respect!”

“Been behaving yourself, have you? Got them fooled? Please. What do you think they’ll think about this?” He pointed a finger at Gosalyn. “Or this?” And jabbed his thumb back into his own chest. “As soon as they see who you really are they won’t be so forgiving.”

“Darkwing’s here.”

“Yeah, and you just knocked out his daughter. Listen up, Launchpad. I’m giving you a choice. As soon as your little surrogate family realises I’m here, they’re going to start asking questions. They’re going to think you called me, or at least that taking you in was what brought this tragedy down upon them…”

“You leave them alone.”

“Maybe I will. I’d rather cause my havoc at night anyway, so I’ll give you until sunset. Then, you’re going to come back to this sad little shack and you’re going to tell me you’re ready to help me take down Darkwing Duck. In return, I’ll let these good, kind people get away with simply the scare of me slaughtering a superhero in their back garden. Or, you oppose me, or tell Darkwing I’m here, and if that happens…” Negaduck cackled. “I’ll burn this whole place to the ground, along with any soul unfortunate enough to get in my way!”

Launchpad’s fists shook at his sides. Grab him now. Tie him up. Beat him to a pulp. He’s half your size! All those thoughts bounced around in his head. But he didn’t move. “Negaduck, please don’t.”

Negaduck threw a leg over his motorcycle and started her up. “Think about it, old pal. It really would be fun causing chaos with you again.” Then he gunned the engine, skidded around so the bike threw up a wave of dirt, and tore away.

As soon as the motorcycle disappeared over the nearest rise, Launchpad’s knees buckled. His back slammed into the old shack besides Gosalyn and he put his face in his hands. “Aw, kid. What am I supposed to do?” He fished the packet of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, and fumbled to push out a single one so he could grab hold of it. The simple task was almost impossible.

Gosalyn shot to her feet. “I knew I needed to keep an eye on you!”

“Shit!” The packet jumped from Launchpad’s hands and cigarettes scattered everywhere. “Damn it, kid. I thought you’d really hurt yourself.”

Gosalyn put her hands on her hips. “Don’t play games with me. I saw you talking to Negaduck! You’re still working for him, aren’t you?”

Launchpad’s heart plummeted. “No! I didn’t even know he was here, I swear.”

“A likely… story…” Gosalyn blinked a couple of times, then sat down heavily.

“Aw, man, you’re not okay, are you?” Launchpad reached out for her.

Gosalyn swiped a hand in front of her face. “Back off, buster.”

He could’ve scooped her up and there would be nothing she could do about it, but Launchpad paused in his advance. “You hit you’re head. I just want to check you’re okay.” He reached out for her again, slowly, and she lowered her hand. He felt her head. There was no blood, but he thought he could feel a decent sized bump.

Gosalyn tolerated it for a second, then slapped at his hand. “Ow, stop.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.” She frowned up at him. “Your hands are shaking.”

Launchpad swallowed hard. “I’m not working for Negaduck. Please believe me. He was just… there. He said if I didn’t help him he’d hurt the McQuacks. What am I supposed to do?” Suddenly, nothing seemed as important as this kid believing him. He didn’t know what else to say to convince her.

“I must’ve really hit my head… okay. He must’ve followed us from Saint Canard. Maybe we should tell Dad.”

“No! We can’t. If I tell Darkwing, Negaduck’s going to hurt the McQuacks. I have to deal with this myself. And if the McQuacks find out…” If he lost their trust, he didn’t know he could take it. No wonder this world’s Launchpad had been so angry with him when he arrived. It didn’t matter that he’d changed. He’d dragged trouble right along with him. Launchpad hung his head. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

Gosalyn leaned over and swiped her knuckles into his arm. It was a terrible punch, and he was sure she could’ve done better had she not been semi out of it. “Come on. Where would you be if you hadn’t crashed in their front yard?”

Not causing trouble for innocent families for sure. Launchpad stood to his feet and held out a hand. “Can you get up?”

Gosalyn pushed herself to shaky feet and grabbed onto his arm.

“Right, I’d better carry you.”

“You are not carrying me like a baby.”

“I’m not letting you walk.”

“Hang on. Crouch down.”

Launchpad did as she instructed. Gosalyn managed to make a little jump, and hook her arms around his neck. Launchpad hefted her up in a piggy back, making sure he had his arms under her in case she passed out again and lost her grip. He started heading back to the house. “You’re not going to tell your Dad about Negaduck, right?”

“Okay fine. But you have to do something for me first.”

Despite his apprehension, Launchpad rolled his eyes. This kid was something else. “I’m not letting you play with the potato gun again. But, go on, anything else. What do you want?”

“I know Negaduck’s not a nice guy. But you’re terrified of him. What did he do to you? Launchpad told me about him making you burn your planes, but, you know, what else?”

Launchpad’s guts tightened. “Aw, man, kid. You don’t pull any punches do you?”

“If someone scared my Launchpad that bad… well, that’s why I was so mad at you.”

“Okay, okay…” There was plenty to choose from. Some he certainly wouldn’t share with a kid. But neither did Launchpad want to downplay her question by choosing something like Negaduck getting way too competitive about playing punchies, which had never really bothered him at all. And then he thought about his own Gosalyn. “It wasn’t just me he was a jerk to…”

***

“Come on, Negaduck. Are you sure you’re not going a bit overboard?”

“Stop whining,” Negaduck grumbled as he balanced on Launchpad’s shoulders so he could tie his minion’s wrists to the branch above. The dying tree in Negaduck’s backyard couldn’t take his weight, so they’d just settled for stringing him up to it with his feet still on the ground. “You’re the idiot who let her keep talking about getting a pink pinata for her birthday. Honestly, I leave you two alone for five minutes…”

“You beat a pinata with a stick! I thought you wanted her to find something violent to enjoy? Sounds like violence to me.”

“She wants a pink pony pinata because its supposed to have candy inside. Urgh. I don’t want any daughter of mine getting candy for her birthday. By this age, I expect her to ask me for a butterfly knife or something.” Negaduck finished his knot, then leapt back to the ground. “If she wants to hit something with a stick the only thing she should enjoy getting out of it is blood and teeth.” He scooped up the rolled up bit of cardboard that had come with the pinata Gosalyn thought she was getting, and thumped Launchpad heavily on the chest with it.

Launchpad grinned. “Heh. Yeah. That’s always fun. I’m glad she won’t be knocking anything out with that flimsy piece of trash though. But we’ve got to start her somewhere, right?”

“Oh, yeah of course.” Negaduck dug amongst the smashed paper mache they’d already destroyed in the corner of the yard, and came up with a handful of colourful candy, and a pink ribbon. “Now, hold still.”

“I don’t want that thing in my hair… wha…”

Negaduck rammed the candy, wrappers and all, into Launchpad’s beak, then trussed it up with the pink ribbon. “That’s much better.” He grinned, patted Launchpad on his bulging check, then screamed: “Gosalyn! Get your butt out here. It’s pinata time!”

Gosalyn stumbled out of the house in her pink party dress, blindfolded. She grinned madly as she swayed across the yard like a drunk man. “Dad! Can I at least see the pinata first?”

“What? And break the pinata rules?” Negaduck winked at Launchpad. Then he hurled the rolled up piece of cardboard over the Muddlefoot’s fence. “Won’t be needing this!” He reached into the pile of paper mache and pulled out an aluminium baseball bat.

Launchpad shuffled back. “Nefadufck…” he mumbled around the plastic mixed with sickly sweet goop in his mouth.

“Stay where you are, Launchpad!” Negaduck barked.

Launchpad jerked to a halt at the order.

“What?” said Gosalyn. “What’s he doing?”

“Being pushy. You know how he likes smashing thing. But you’re the party girl; so you get to go first.” Negaduck shoved the bat into Gosalyn’s hands and adjusted her grip. He pointed her to face Launchpad.

Gosalyn tapped the bat on Launchpad’s hip.

“Higher, sweetheart. If you want it to spill, you need to hit it right in the guts.” Negaduck leaned forward, hand on his daughter’s shoulder, a wicked grin splitting his beak.

Gosalyn adjusted her grip. All the practice Launchpad had with her in the back yard was paying off; her swing was perfect. The bat slammed up under his ribs. Launchpad dropped. The flimsy bough broke under his weight and snapped in half on impact across his back. Launchpad doubled over as bile leapt up his throat and mixed with the gunk in his mouth. He spluttered and gagged and couldn’t get air, and then the flimsy pink ribbon popped and the whole mess spilled out on the browning lawn.

Gosalyn ripped her blindfold off. No way she could’ve been fooled that impact had been with paper mache. The bat clattered to the ground at her side.

“Gosalyn… I’m… kay…” Launchpad said, then sagged back down with a wheeze.

Gosalyn’s eyes filled with tears. “Launchpad, I’m sorry.” She bolted back into the house.

Negaduck cackled. “Happy birthday, sweetheart!”

Launchpad spat, then pushed himself to his knees, a hand still to his belly.

Negaduck grabbed him by the collar. “Next time, I expect you to talk her out of this kind of garbage before I have to get involved. I can find someone much bigger than a little girl to take a swing at you.” He hauled him to his feet and flung him towards the house. “Now go ask her if she wants cake!”

***

He’d carried Gosalyn almost all the way back to the house now. Launchpad gulped and adjusted his grip underneath her. Between Darkwing Duck and the McQuacks, he really didn’t know how this would pan out.

“You can put me down now.”

Launchpad let her slip off his back. She grabbed him around the waist and hugged him tight.

“Hey… what?”

“I’m sorry, Launchpad. I knew Negaduck was a jerkface, but… I won’t tell my Dad. And I’ll help you take care of Negaduck.”

“Heh.” Launchpad prised her off him. “Let’s just make sure you’re okay first.”

***

Drake had paced the porch for the last half hour. His only consolation, despite Birdie’s assurances that the Negaverse Launchpad was harmless, was that it was highly unlikely he had kidnapped his daughter. Gosalyn would have taken off with him simply because she knew her father wouldn’t like it.

Finally, he saw her coming down the front path, Launchpad’s double trailing almost right behind her. Drake cleared the front steps and rushed to meet his daughter. “Gosalyn, don’t go running off like that!”

He knew something was wrong when Gosalyn looked up at him, not ready for an argument, but with relief. And then she slumped into his arms. Drake clamped her tight to her chest. His gaze snapped up to the Negaverse Launchpad, and the only thing that stopped him from slamming a fist into his face was supporting his daughter. “What did you do?” he hissed.

“Dad, it’s okay,” said Gosalyn, though she still clung to him. “It’s not his fault. I was being stupid and I fell over.”

Launchpad shuffled a boot through the dirt. “She hit her head. I’m sorry. I thought I was watching her.” The subdued moment was just so… Launchpad, that it gave Drake pause. His buddy’s double actually felt bad about this. So he should, but still.

Leaning on the porch railing beside his wife, Ripcord went rigid. “Wait, she hit her head?” He paled several shades. “I’ll… doctor…” He bolted back inside so quickly the door slammed into the wall and the front windows rattled.

Birdie winced. “Rip! It’s okay, she’s conscious…” She hung her head in resignation. “Great. We’re going to have the entirety of the town’s medical staff here in ten minutes. I thought we were past this.”

Drake scooped Gosalyn up, despite her half-hearted protestations, threw a glare at Launchpad’s double, and followed Birdie inside. His heart still thudded in his chest, but it was steadily slowing. He wasn’t sure how mad he was supposed to be at the Negaverse Launchpad. I mean, he’d be mad at Launchpad if he’d let something like this happen, but he wouldn’t hold it against him. He wasn’t surprised Gosalyn had gone and down something dumb. It wasn’t the first time.

“Yes, send them now!” Ripcord growled into the phone.

Birdie, put a hand on his arm. “Ripcord, calm down. Here…” She took the phone off him. “Yes, she’s conscious. But if you could send one of the doctors over that’d be great.” She hung up, then turned back to her husband and grasped his hands. “Are you alright?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Ripcord grumbled.

Launchpad pushed past them, not making eye contact with anyone, and went into the kitchen.

Drake took Gosalyn into the living room, put her down onto the sofa and rearranged the cushions around her.

“Dad, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you are. Although, its not the first time you’ve given yourself a concussion.” He squeezed her shoulder. “That head of yours is nearly as hard as Launchpad’s. You’ll be fine.”

“My son does not have a hard head,” said Ripcord. “And neither does your daughter! You don’t know what happened to her; it could be serious. How can you be so blase about your own child…”

Drake saw red. He whirled and stabbed a finger into Ripcord’s chest. “I think I know whether my daughter needs medical attention or not, thank you very much!”

Although Drake had intended to give him a good prod in the chest, he found himself pointing just above the man’s belly button. Ripcord glared down at him, and then his shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

Drake lowered his hand. “I… yeah, I know. Thanks for, you know, being so on the ball and calling the doctor. Sorry, I overreacted.”

Ripcord smiled tightly. “Hey, its fine, I get it. I have kids too, remember?” He turned to Birdie. “How long ago did we call?”

“Speaking of kids,” said Birdie. “I heard one of our planes come back over. Launchpad might be back in the hanger. You should go talk to him. He’ll be in a better mood after taking a plane out.”

“Yeah, but…”

Birdie patted his arm.“Not your kid. We’ll handle it. You know you’ll just get underfoot.”

“Probably,” Ripcord huffed. He glanced one last time at Gosalyn, then headed out the front door.

Launchpad came back from the kitchen with a glass of water and took it to Gosalyn. Drake snatched it off him, then handed it over to her.

“Dad, really?”

“I don’t know what you two were up to,” he said, voice low. “But you are not going out together unsupervised again!”

***

Chapter 5

#darkwing duck #darkwing #darkwing fanfiction #darkwing duck fanfiction #dwd #dwd91 #darkwing duck 1991 #nega launchpad #negalaunchpad #gosalyn mallard #drake mallard #ripcord mcquack #birdie mcquack #negaduck #disney ducks

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thanksjro · 4 years

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Robots in Disguise (2012), #1-22- A Recap, For Reference Purposes

Before we begin with “Dark Cybertron”, a lightning round style recap on the 22 issues that took place in the sister series to MTMTE, Robots in Disguise; just so we know what’s up with all the folks who didn’t hitch a ride on the Lost Light.

Here’s the Story So Far, since it’s been a minute.

Now for the nitty gritty.

Cybertron is a literal hellscape, as established in The Death of Optimus Prime, the very flora of the planet trying to murder anything that comes within a few miles of the surface. This has caused a massive economic slump in the tourist trap towns, who surely will not survive without the summertime revenue. Truly, life is cruel and not worth living.

Bumblebee narrates, as we show off all the weirdoes who live on Cybertron now. Bumblebee tries to greet a new batch of arrivals, as Metalhawk actively attempts to make him look like Satan incarnate, because all the NAILs have gone full ACAB at this point.

A robot who looks like he’s wearing a beanie commits vandalism and is then subjected to violence via Decepti-cop.

This is more or less the flavor for RID as a whole. You have been warned.

Prowl breaks someone’s hand just because he can. Blurr is made to arrest someone for disturbing the peace, even though he’s, like, basically the only guy on the Autobots who isn’t a cop. Bumblebee doesn’t believe in democracy.

Ratbat is the leader of the Decepticons, even though Soundwave is right friggin’ there. We establish that the military state is in full swing. Prowl commits a microaggression against a Senator. Ratbat gets pissy about his guys going out to beat people up, not because it violates his moral sensibilities, but because it benefits the Autobots.

Probably that you’re killing people by remote control, in as horrified a tone as he could manage, because that’s FUCKING EVIL. Seems pretty straightforward to me.

Prowl says to cancel the memorial for the Lost Light, because he thinks the Decepticons are up to something. Which they are.

Everyone hates the Autobots. Like, everyone.

Ironhide runs away from a murderous hedge and smashes into a wall. Prowl has a talk with a mysterious individual about his feelings during a romantic sunset.

Metalhawk releases hat guy from prison. He and Bumblebee have a little chat, during which he tries to gaslight the little guy. Bumblebee explodes Horri-Bull’s head in front of at least 30 people.

Except he actually didn’t, because the chips don’t actually work. T’was a ruse! Starscream enters the narrative. Ratbat used to be an actual person and not just a bat. Sideswipe wants to shoot someone. Bumblebee tasers a man unprovoked; guess he’s picked up a little paranoia from that time he got shot.

Starscream calls Prowl ugly, then spills the beans on Ratbat’s plan to kill Bumblebee at the memorial, solely because he thinks Ratbat is an idiot. Needlenose and Skywarp beat up a NAIL to work through their emotions.

Bumblebee shows a snuff film to hundreds of people at the memorial. Skywarp tries to frame a NAIL for murder, but Prowl says nuts to that idea, through the power of dramatic irony.

Long Haul tells a fib. Bumblebee and Metalhawk agree to work together. Ratbat gets turned into chunky salsa by Arcee, who will use the excuse of self-defense if questioned. Starscream pulls some fucking bullshit and third-wheels the agreement between Bumblebee and Metalhawk.

Ratbat’s death is played off as a suicide. Blurr is still a cop. Starscream is helpful. There’s a guy who looks like a frog, and I don’t care for what his eyes are doing.

Frog guy explodes, because nature is a cruel mistress.

Wheeljack has a hell of a time trying to answer the phone in the middle of an economic debate. Prowl is paranoid. Starscream handles the housing crisis. Wheeljack visits the hospital and causes a scene. Another explosion happens, killing dozens, including this guy:

You will be missed, Tiddytron.

Wheeljack realizes that the moon is trying to kill everyone, so he shoots missiles at the problem. The Aerialbots fuck off into the wilderness.

The Decepticons get some perks now that Starscream’s a government employee. Starscream destroys the military state through the power of talking over people. Prowl and his cronies investigate a murder at the trash factory.

Bombshell is arrested for thought crime, and spills the beans on the I/D chips not working. Prowl has Dirge on a chain for some reason, and it ends up causing nothing but trouble. Blurr runs every red light in the city to make a citizen’s arrest, and gets his ass kicked by a bunch of construction workers. Prowl has a complex about Spike Witwicky.

Prowl fixes the I/D chip issue and things go poorly for the construction workers. Blurr gets upset about having his ass kicked by construction workers. Prowl is very paranoid, even as he has a borderline pinup panel devoted to his weird robot bellybutton and positively ridiculous cinched waist. I begin to worry about how much I’m learning about Andrew Griffith’s tastes.

The poetry shark shows up.

Arcee reveals a little bit about herself, and I shed a tear as I shake my fist in the general direction of England, cursing Simon Furman’s name.

Metalhawk brings Sky-Byte to a literal trashcan fire to meet his buddies, and they all rag on the Autobots for a while.

Ironhide goes joyriding and finds Sky-Byte Oh Yorick-ing a Sweep’s head. Turns out they have a history. Blurr reveals his dream to own a bar. Metalhawk brings up the fact that setting up a group of folks to have their heads explode if they step out of line is some dystopian bullshit.

Sky-Byte meets up with his old buddy Swindle, and gets the skinny on the bullshit that’s being pulled on this brand-new Cybertron. Everything goes to shit very quickly. Streetwise gets set on fire. Prowl needs to stop. Ironhide commits violence against the general populace, then advocates for the removal of the I/D chips.

Blurr opens a bar, and it’s dinosaur-friendly. Prowl commits property damage on a table, because he’s tablephobic. Ironhide reveals the future.

Shockwave sends an entire race of Big Birds to their frozen demise. Orion Friggin’ Pax comes back into the narrative, in the middle of his giant fuck-off-from-responsibility space adventure. Wheelie and Garnak are here, which is cool, I guess. Jhiaxus yells a bunch, and Orion decides to go to Big Bird planet.

It’s farkin’ cold in here.

Orion and Hardhead talk about Rodimus’ tumultuous relationship with death. Shockwave is the only person in the universe who understands quantum mechanics. Monstructor wakes up from his cryo-sleep. Wheelie and Garnak are grievously wounded, and the patch job seems less than medically sound, since we’ve just put a screw into Garnak’s orbital socket to hold his eye-patch in place. Orion walks into a trap, knowingly and willingly.

Wheeljack does some espionage, even though Mirage is right friggin’ there. Turmoil swings by Cybertron to say hello- the Decepticon, not the emotional state. Drift is outed as a war criminal- well, more so than originally thought. Turmoil has a time machine.

Sky-Byte and Jazz team up for slam poetry night. Blurr tells Metalhawk a story. Wheeljack’s espionage adventure goes poorly. Turmoil gets trapped in a hamster ball. Wheeljack and Metalhawk get trapped in a hamster ball.

The Dinobots and Ironhide go on a camping trip. Starscream craves democracy. Skylynx is a glorified taxi. Slag hasn’t changed his name yet, despite half of the people working for IDW being from the UK. Swoop breaks down IDW Phase Two to its bare essentials.

Prowl sits on someone’s desk, because he doesn’t respect tables. Slag’s face is on fire all the time, and it’s sort of distracting. Swindle bothers Shockwave. Ironhide is attacked by the Dinobots.

Bumblebee sits outside and has some Night Thoughts. Cybertron wants everyone to stick together, and God help you if you don’t. Bumblebee is beginning to develop a complex. Blurr is upset with himself. Ravage and the Reflectors go on an adventure. The time machine isn’t actually a time machine. The time machine disappears.

Ironhide finds the Aerialbots, who have been combinered by the horrors of new Cybertron. Everyone yells at Bumblebee.

We get a taste of Old World Cybertronian propaganda, where everyone talks in the third person, as is tradition. Starscream gets curvier every issue. Again, I begin to worry about how much I’m learning about Andrew Griffith’s tastes.

Blurr causes an explosion in the wilderness looking for Ironhide, much to Starscream’s delight. There is a Titan under the ground, and its very existence is making reality shit the bed. Tailgate’s lies in MTMTE are so extensive, red herrings have leaked into the sister series.

Nova Prime commissioned Monstructor, and Omega Supreme hated it so much he punched it in the face.

Starscream invites a bunch of friends over to see the Titan. Brainstorm is used as a scale for end-of-the-world scenarios. Starscream is revealed to be chosen by the gods.

The Reflectors visit a planet and shit gets weird very quickly. Wheelie is about to have a goddamned stress-induced aneurysm, not that Orion particularly cares. Time nonsense is established. Wheelie-speak becomes plot-relevant. Livio Ramondelli subjects me to his nightmares’ nightmares.

Starscream gets interviewed on national television. Starscream owns a hat that makes him look like a Gundam. Omega Supreme explodes. Metalhawk flip-flops between who he’s defending like a fish on the dock. Starscream yells at Shockwave for being an instigator. Prowl and Starscream make a deal.

Arcee stabs a cat in the throat. IDW settles the debate- at least for their own continuity- and says RIRFIB. Prowl takes a fireball to the face to convince people he’s on the up-and-up. Arcee is smarter than Starscream. This asshole shows back up.

Bumblebee really, really wants to kill Megatron, but politics demand he be taken in as a POW. The fellas construct a conspiracy theory. Starscream tries to lead his peers, but it goes poorly. Not a single medical professional of Cybertronian descent actually keeps track of their patients. Maccadam’s gets several light fixtures ruined by Arcee. Wheeljack gets called a tool. Prowl shows up in his hot new body, decked out with enough weaponry to annihilate a small country and a gun that’s as big as he is.

Starscream gives Megatron a piece of his mind. The Decepticons are rioting in the streets. Prowl shows Wheeljack his toys. Arcee plays her trump card. Bumblebee tries his hand at negotiation.

Bumblebee learns a valuable lesson about leadership. Politics are hell. Megatron is released from prison. Democracy finally gets its day. Megatron enters the Black Room with his whole ass hanging out. Pretty much every Decepticon you thought was dead isn’t actually dead.

Metalhawk gets a taste of how 24/7 news has ruined everything. Prowl is revealed to be the mastermind behind all the bullshit that’s been going on the last few months, and he’s been working with Megatron. Swindle gets run over by a train. Wheeljack’s head is turned into a memory by Prowl. The crazy-making signal out in the wilderness was made by Megatron. Megatron walks in in his hot new bod, carrying his old one like his new bride. And what a pretty bride it is.

We get a literal talking heads sequence explaining just how exactly Megatron survived the events of “Chaos” and why Combiners are the bees’ knees. Prowl isn’t Prowl, but actually being controlled by Bombshell.

Dang, wonder who could have caused that, CHROMEDOME.

Prowl is released from his mind-control, and immediately plays the blame game with Bumblebee. The Constructicons and Prowl have a thing going, and show it off, much to Bumblebee’s horror.

Circuit gets given Fixit’s dialogue for some reason, and I can’t tell if this was an issue on the art side or the script side. Devastator wrecks shop. Megatron laughs at Starscream for being a loser, then crushes Bumblebee’s head like a grape. Ironhide finally shows up to the party, and he brought a veggie platter.

Jazz tries to warn the medical staff about the Combiner coming their way, but no one ever listens to Jazz. Prowl has a crisis of self. Jazz breaks up the two-man act. Megatron let Bumblebee keep his cane, proving that even heartless monsters can respect the Disabilities Act.

Ironhide and the Dinobots save the day. Superion and Devestator get into a fistfight. Prowl reaffirms his complex over Spike Witwicky. Bumblebee says some halfway transphobic shit, and I shed a tear as I shake my fist in the general direction of England, cursing Simon Furman’s name. Arcee switches sides again and stabs Bombshell in the face. Prowl takes a nap. The tides turn.

Ironhide resists Frenzy’s sonic attack through the sheer power of gumption. Skywarp says fuck this and gets out of dodge. Devastator becomes a real boy.

Bumblebee WILL kill Megatron. Arcee makes it weird. Ironhide helps Prowl figure out his life. Bumblebee never learns. Metalhawk saves his BFF, and gets his arm shot off for his troubles. Starscream uses Metalhawk’s fuck-you-level long arm to kill a man.

Swindle carries a dude twice his size to safety with one of his arms off. Needlenose gets his just desserts. Devastator rips off his head to escape his crippling self-doubt. The Constructicons are having a hell of a day.

You said it, Hook.

Wheeljack saves the day from beyond the grave, that clever man. Metalhawk is killed by politics. Hat Guy tries to fight Bumblebee, and gets mad that he doesn’t remember his name. They’ve spoken to each other maybe once.

Metalhawk is made into a playing chip by Starscream, and also a speech writer from beyond the pale. Starscream tells everyone to get naked or fuck off, then takes off his top. All the Autobots and Decepticons who don’t want to get naked fuck off into the wilderness.

The Dark Cybertron “Prelude" issues kick in.

Shockwave and Dreadwing fly through the photorealistic sky to get to where the Titan is.

Listen here you little shit-

Shockwave shoots Dreadwing to test a theory, because ethics are for nerds.

Back when Shockwave was a hot guy with feelings, Jhiaxus was dealing with the Monstructor thing, then fucked off into space. Shockwave took the opportunity to be better than his teacher in every way, as is tradition. Proteus threw a whole-ass person across the room, because classism. Shockwave revealed himself to be a budding ecoterrorist. Shockwave joined a terrorist organization to further his own goals. Orion Pax tried to appeal to Shockwave’s softer side. Megatron killed the Senate. Shockwave replaced his shitty claws with a gun. Shockwave shot Dai Atlas in the legs and can’t explain why.

Dreadwing comes back to life, thanks to the power of Shockwave’s 14th ore.

Bumblebee has the Big Sad about Starscream being King of Iacon. Arcee doesn’t know what emotional turmoil feels like. Metalhawk’s lifeless body lays in the sun for several hours. Prowl is propositioned by the Constructicons. Arcee tells Prowl’s darkest secret, and it kills Bumblebee. Swoop is having a great time.

Arcee knows about Bumblebee being Hasbro’s golden boy. Prowl uses his manners, but only when no one can hear him. Arcee and the Constructicons get into a fight, with more flaming swords getting involved than you might expect. Slag offers to buy Arcee a drink.

Bumblebee gets a hot new body. Arcee gives herself a stick-and-poke tattoo. In a few hours, the sun will rise.

Pal, you are way ahead of schedule.

Shockwave makes a dramatic entrance.

Waspinator tells a story about the time he killed a servant of God and met death. Orion and pals visit Gorlam Prime. The Dead Universe comes into the narrative again. Wheelie has his arm blown off to keep from getting disintegrated, but he shrugs it off, because life is always awful for Wheelie.

Waspinator gets chased through the desert by Monstructor. Orion Pax acts like a dumbass. A Titan is revealed. Monstructor rides on the time-travel ship like it’s a horsey. Waspinator controls a Titan and makes it teleport. Orion plays fourth-dimensional chess, and reveals that his personal ship is named after his best friend.

Starscream talks to a corpse. Blurr tells Starscream to fuck off. A very good boy enters the narrative. The paparazzi ruin Starscream’s attempt to get underlings to do what he wants. A literal rat enters the narrative.

Starscream talks to Megatron, and I genuinely don’t have the words to explain what exactly is going on with that guy. Starscream takes a gander into the very good boy’s toolbox. The very good boy lays it on thick. Starscream destroys a man’s reputation.

Starscream breaks into Rattrap’s apartment. Rattrap becomes a government employee. Starscream talks to Wheeljack, who isn’t dead.

Soundwave has a flashback to when the Decepticons surrendered after the Chaos event, confirming that Ratbat was universally hated. Soundwave has robo-synesthesia. Shockwave is the perfect Cybertronian- Soudwave hates him for it.

Shockwave calls his teacher. Ravage judges Soundwave. The Decepticons reminisce on the time they resorted to cannibalism. Soundwave thinks mourning is for dumb babies and tells everyone to shut up because he’s big man on campus now.

Nobody deserves it more than you, babe.

The infighting begins, because no Decepticon has the ability to be halfway decent to each other, and they won’t learn that skill for a good while. Needlenose throws Blitzwing across a field and admits to having feelings. Soundwave is abandoned by the Decepticon forces.

Soundwave talks to himself in the Crystal City, then gets his ass kicked by Dreadwing.

In the past, Shockwave calls Bombshell a loser and outdoes him.

Soundwave kills Dreadwing. Shockwave hides in the shadows like a weirdo. Soundwave is done trusting Shockwave. Soundwave grabs Shockwave by the boob and yells at him. Soundwave is a hopeful guy.

In the past, Soundwave stole Ratbat’s brain and put it in a cassette, proving that space-Communism only works on paper.

Soundwave punches Shockwave in the head. Shockwave assumes Soundwave is alone, despite knowing he can contain many small men inside him.

Shockwave explodes a cat. Soundwave fires missiles at Shockwave and hits him in the tit. Shockwave would fuck Microsoft Excel if he could. Frenzy is just happy to be here- no, I didn’t mix them up, the colorist did.

Ravage is a grown-ass man. Soundwave’s synesthesia used to be a lot worse. Shockwave sends Soundwave and pals home. The Titan and Waspinator show up.

Soundwave has a face. Ravage and all the other cassettes are emotional support animals, who are also fully sapient.

Shockwave’s gonna fuck everything up.

And THAT, dear children, is the entirety of Robots in Disguise, up to issue #22. We’re all caught up and ready.

#transformers #rid #exrid #recap #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post

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shhhhhskars · 4 years

Text

See You Again (part 2)

Click here to indulge in part 1. This is kind of our babies getting emotionally vulnerable with each other, and being weirdos together. All the feels. Very fluffy and soft soft Alex things. I hope you enjoy this. (P.S. sorry if there are typos or what not, my brain has been tired lately.)

There was something bittersweet about finding it when she did. A mixture of embarrassment, unease and relief. It over took her body in a rush as she gazed at his messy scribble in the lonely kitchen, and she had to physically close her eyes to ground herself for a few seconds. All was silent, except for the soft humming of the refrigerator, and she basked in it for a second. With the tension leaving her body, she realized just how disappointed she truly was a second ago. And what was this undeniable shift she felt in the pit of her stomach, the muddled clenching that was there just prior- practically nonexistent now? All of that pent up anxiety and frustration. Gone. Poof. Easy like that. Simply because he had signaled that he was still around.

How was it possible that he could shift her mood so effortlessly? The thought made her seethe a little, his pull was far too strong on her emotions, and it terrified her.

Making a mental note to check in with herself later, she took her her sweet time to climb the staircase up to the rooftop terrace- an effort to convince herself that she was not a complete soft trash can for the man who waited for her. She did her best to maintain an expression of nonchalance- an effort to appear cool, calm and collected. Instead, she found herself chewing at the inside of her bottom lip the entire time, to hold back the smile that was fighting it’s way across her lips.

When she finally reached the top level, firmly pulling open the french doors, she stopped curtly, legs suddenly feeling like lead.

The roof terrace which was designed to be a cozy space- was decked out intricately from left to right. Draped from edge to edge- twinkling round string-lights hung, the glow that emitted from the circular bulbs standing out against the black, industrial wire and the bare night sky. They wrapped around the exposed wooden beams that provided a shaded area in the day-time, and looped back to where she was standing. Starting at her feet, there were milky wax candles of all sizes, placed in careful bundles all around the terrace floor, burning comfortably in temperate night. A few over-sized metal lanterns lay among them, with taller candles inside, the light bouncing back and radiating against the glass. Dozens of healthy sunflowers (her favorite) beamed straight up in ceramic white pitchers, which were spread through out the various surfaces- one on top of the lounge table, another on top of the bar area.

He staggered his usual potted plants to the outskirts of the terrace, their terra-cotta buckets adding to the rosiness and haziness of the scene- which made just enough room for a fluffy, layered spread of blankets, on top of a heavy, white quilted duvet. A handful of throw pillows were scattered a top, all some shade of creme or white, some with cotton covers, others knitted, some just soft and fuzzy. Two generously sized wine glasses were perched on a wooden stool next to the area, already filled with a deep ruby hue, and she could tell it was her favorite blend that they kept in their mini collection downstairs. A gentle, soft jazz instrumental filtered through the air, nearly undetectable due to the fact that they were nestled in the heart of the city, the buzz from around them undeniable.

She was in awe of the energy of the space- of his lofty and particular intimate curation. Stunned, she held her breath.

As if on cue, the giant Swede who was responsible for it all, appeared from around the corner, whistling softly to himself, carrying an extensive charcuterie board with two large hands. He nearly jumped when he saw her standing in the door way, and clutched at the wooden board firmly.

“Holy shi.. I said around 10...ish, 'baby. Hi, though.” he muttered with a furrowed brow, but a silly smile was spreading across his face just from seeing her frame in the doorway. He walked over to the wooden table that was near their fort of blankets, and placed down his work of art, shifting it into place on the table.

Still in complete shock, she ignored him and his time request, watching him nonchalantly shift some of the cheeses on the board.

“Alex...did you do all of this...for me?” she questioned, clearing her throat to catch his attention when he ignored her. “Alex..” she pressed again, softly, and he pried his attention away from the cheese brought his eyes to hers finally. Looking around, he gave her a tiny, innocent shrug and a nod, as if to say, yeah, I did. He pushed himself up, dusting his butt off a little as he did so, and walked over to where she stood expectantly in the door way.

He wrapped a hand around the small of her waist, pulling her into him, and she sighed a breath of relief, from the much needed contact.

“We haven’t seen much of each other as of late. I figured, we could use some alone time.” he said modestly. “I mean, I know it’s nothing much, or whatever but...something small, you know, just for us.”

She scoffed, wrapping one arm around his waist, pulling his body closer to hers with a gentle jerk. Suddenly her Tiramisu and lingerie felt minuscule, compared to what he did for her.��

“Small? Baby...” she planted a solid kiss on his chin. “This is everything.” she whispered. Music still softly threading along in the background, he blushed a violent shade of light pink, and brought his lips gently onto hers, leaving a lingering, soft kiss that made her want to whine when he broke it. He dropped her waist and went for her hand, interlocking their fingers and pulling her out of the doorway, and down onto the terrace. “C’mere.” He tugged at her arm, prompting her to follow him to the little area he had set up for them.

A few glasses of wine in, and she’s sitting pretzel style on top of one of the pillows, giggling at a Skarsgard camping story. This time, he remincised on camping with G, and Gustaf’s then girlfriend. Bill also tagged along, as well as a young Valter, and the trip was a memorable mess, because Valter, Bill and Alexander were forced to share a tent. Other than Gustaf and his girlfriend making their...sounds, Valter could swear up and down he heard a bear in the middle of the night- which led to him waking them up in the ass crack of night, to sob a bit and beg them to check it out. Bill volunteered, and instead of coming back into the tent he took an intentionally long smoke break, which caused Valter to freak out even more.

His shirt rode up as he spoke, animated and enthused as ever, exposing his sculpted, tan torso and gray boxer briefs. This was one of his top five favorite positions to be in, ‘cause he could gaze right up at her with ease, head snuggled in her lap and his long body stretched out to the maximum. If she threw in a little head scratch, ah, that was true bliss.

“Ah...that little motherfucker, man. I miss him when he was small. Now he’s all...smart and what not.” Alexander commenced his reminiscing with a chuckle, followed with a small sigh.

She smiled down at him, one hand brushing through his locks, the other, reaching for her wine glass and dragging the rim up to her lips. “Yeah, well, that generally happens, sweets. You have fifty million siblings, you should know this.” she said with a little tug on his hair. He winced, belting out a mumbled ouch, and pinched the side of her thigh.

“Fifty million, yeah? I’m defffintely telling my dad you said that.” he said with a goofy little giggle, raising a hand up to gently trace her cheekbone.

“You wouldn’t fucking dare, Skarsgard. You know that’s my bestie.” she said with a roll of her eyes, cutting her eyes at him playfully.

“Ooh, and I’m telling mom you said that,” he countered, changing from his index to his rough thumb, bringing his hand down to stroke her jaw-line with his large finger. A full on grin was spread across his face now, fully amused at teasing her, and her mouth dropped dramatically.

“You’re playing dirty. I thought you missed me, sir.” She gave her best pout and sad eyes, but it only made them both laugh.

“I missed the hell out of you, and those awfully dramatic facial expressions you do. You should be an actress.” he touched the tip of her nose with his index finger, and she shook her head with a small laugh.

“Oh? There’s a joke.” she said with a little snicker, imagining the scenario briefly. She ran her hand down his tummy, tracing small circles on exposed skin. He shuddered under her touch, and he closed his eyes, snuggling his head more into her lap. It was getting later and later, and Alexander became more and more of a baby when it was close to his bed-time.

“Mmmmm.” he mumbled as adjusted, relaxing under her touch. She took a good look at him, laying their with his eyes closed. She could see every line, every tiny little wrinkle that creased up at the side of his eyes- she adored each one. Under his eyes were slightly puffy, like he was restless and needed a good rest tonight. She looked at his faded stubble that was growing back at a rapid rate from his last visit to the barber.

“What? Does that feel good?” she asked, nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip gently as she peered down at him.

He nodded slowly, and she stopped the circles on his tum for only second, just for his eyes to shoot open and his brows to furrow down. Her eyebrows raised in surprise, and she resumed her circles. He smiled and closed his eyes, once again at ease.

She stifled a laugh, at how simple he was to please, and how lucky they both were to have found each other in a such a messy world. And it was strange...it was very rare that she craved affection, or romance, the whole idea of it made her kind of cringe sometimes- yet she felt so comfortable laying here with him, surrounded by candles and laying in a fort of throw blankets. It was oddly comforting, to know that in this moment she could just be- that there was no real need for a facade of any type of persona right in this moment. She brought her left hand to his hair again, giving him a little head rub while her other hand ran over his stomach and chest under his thin white t-shirt. It hitting her all at once, that if anything could be considered perfection, it would be this moment, with Alexander, right here.

“You could be anywhere in the world, but you’re here with me. Ain’t that about a bitch.” she joked awkwardly with shake of her head, not letting up her movements.

His eyes opened at that- but they were still half closed. Darkened blue orbs half covered by sleepy kids stared up and into her soul for a second and she had to look away.

“Please, kid, where else would I be?” he challenged, with a lazy little yawn.

She shrugged, unable to find the right words, and he chuckled at her silence, and her eyes fell back on him. She paused this time, letting her hand rest on his chest, grazing her hand his right nipple softly.. He smiled a little at the tickling feeling of that. “If I didn’t meet you..what, I’d be...drunk somewhere with Dada? Talking about some new dumb thing he saw online, listening to his stoned ass. Or maybe wandering around a hotel alone? Trying to find somewhere other than my empty room read a script.” He finished his little rant with a chuckle. “Really no where else I’d rather be.” he added softly, with a small shrug.

She was taken aback at his brutal honesty, at how he opened himself up to her- this was a rare occasion indeed. She felt her heart physically softening in her chest for him, and it ached a bit.

“Nah. You’d be out making some new art. Creating. Being dope. You know. It’s what you do. It’s in your genes.” Building up the people she cared about was in her nature, and this earned a blush and a shy smile from him. He paused, those blue orbs scanning her face, from her eyes to her nose, to her lips- then back up again to her eyes. “Oh? Tell me more.” he teased and laughed, pinching his nipple so hard he jumped. “Only teasing. Only teasing. I appreciate you and your words. I appreciate them more than you know, my love.” He gently braced himself, so he could push himself up and out of her lap, adjusting his body so he could face her.

She swung her legs over his, scooting closer into him and his warm core, and he wrapped his hands around the small of her waist, nuzzling his nose on hers with a gentle eskimo kiss. “Don’t think anyone’s ever said anything that nice to me, and for no reason.” he said, leaving a kiss on the tip of her nose.

She closed her eyes, breathing in his familiar scent. The night was winding down, minutes until twelve now. The city was still buzzing- but it was significantly quieter right now. Their soft jazz and candles were still going strong.

She shrugged and he paused, waiting for her to finish her thought, and she took a moment to gather her words. Emotions and hormones were running through her at an all time high, and it was wonderfully painful, beautiful and messy at the same damn time. She knew what she had to get off of her chest, it had been a long time coming.

She took a shaky breath, raising her head so they were both eye level, holding the sides of his face and getting a good grip with her hands before starting. He noticed the moisture from her hands seeping through, a sign of her getting nervous- that he always found extra cute.

“I love you...Alex. I’ve known...for a while. But I’ve been. I’ve been waiting for the right moment.” she said meekly, her throat constricting slightly. Alexander had been the one who said I love you first, and she was anxiously waiting for the perfect moment to reciprocate the energy. This, was it. There was no other time.

Eyes softened, he smiled, his heart quickening a few beats, before tilting his head into hers, closing the small distance in between their faces with a rough, eager kiss. She dropped his hands hurriedly from his face, wrapping them around his neck and bringing herself closer to him. He pulled her in, and she crawled into his lap, straddling him. A hand in the back of her hair he gently tugged, pulling her face back. “Fuck. I love you, kid.” Was all he could manage to get out, before she was gripping at the bottom of his tee, and putting her lips back on his, desperate for more of him, for all of him- in this moment. Little did he know, she hadn’t even revealed her secret weapons- the lingerie and his chilled Tiramisu that she was sure he would get all excited about once he realized he had an post-sex snack waiting for him.

#alexander skarsgard imagine #alexander skarsgard x reader #alexander skarsgard fan fic #alexander skarsgard drabbles #alexander tings #askarsgard imagine #askarsgard drabbles #fan fic #fluffy romanc

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