#army jay au
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one hell of an amen - chapter 7
Summary: His mom always taught him that doing what’s right isn’t always easy, but Jay never imagined how hard it’d be. Or how it could cost him everything.
Notes: back with a new chapter and, while I’m not 100% sure how many chapters there are left I do know that we’re getting close to the end of this fic!
Read on AO3 or below!
After getting the call about Jay waking up, Hailey couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. Her teammates cheered at the news and Kevin even picked her up and spun her around in celebration. When she had been placed back on her feet she was immediately pulled into Trudy’s arms and the blonde detective hugged back fiercely.
“Thanks, Sarge,” Hailey whispered, sincerity clear in her voice. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Hailey.”
Trudy squeezed her again. Over Trudy’s shoulder, Hailey made eye contact with Voight.
“Thank you,” she mouthed.
Voight nodded at her and Hailey even saw a small smile on his usually stoic face.
Trudy eventually let Hailey go, allowing Vanessa, Kim, and Adam to each get a hug in.
By the time everyone had gotten a hug in, Voight had made his way over to the group. He stopped in front of Hailey. “Let me know when you have more details. We’ll figure out your time off.”
Hailey nodded and Voight gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, just as her phone rang again. Will’s name flashed across her screen, and she instantly knew her brother-in-law had gotten the same news she did.
Answering, Hailey immediately heard the unbridled joy and excitement in his voice. She couldn’t blame him; it’d been less than half an hour since she’d gotten the news and Hailey still felt like she was floating. The past five days had felt like an eternity but the light at the end of the tunnel could finally be seen.
… … …
The journey to Germany was long, but Hailey and Will arrived just after midnight, just 24 hours after Jay’s arrival at Landstuhl. A car was waiting for them at the airport and took them to a hotel near the hospital—Hailey had no intention of leaving the hospital once she got there but Mark had already made the arrangements.
Visitors weren’t allowed at this time of night, so Hailey resigned to wait a few more hours before she could see her husband again. She decided to take advantage of the hotel room while she was there, taking a long, hot shower to recover from the long day of travel. It had taken them over 18 hours to get from Chicago to Frankfurt and then another 30 minutes to get from the airport to the hotel.
Hailey was exhausted but she knew she wouldn’t get any sleep that night. She was just hours away from seeing Jay again and the excitement alone was enough to keep her awake, but it wasn’t just that. There was the looming fear and uncertainty of what she and Will would see at the hospital that was competing with the excitement for the top spot in her mind. The updates from Mark had been promising, but there was only so much he knew; he wasn’t seeing or treating Jay firsthand, and he wasn’t a doctor.
Stepping into the shower, Hailey turned the water to the hottest setting she could handle. Steam started filling the bathroom and Hailey moved under the stream of water, sighing at the immediate relief in her tight muscles. She took her time, working through her entire shower routine in hopes that more time under the hot water would relax her enough so she could rest.
Whether she slept or not, Hailey wanted to be as rested as she could be once she joined Jay.
… … …
Hailey was running on coffee and adrenaline. Despite how tired she was and the long, hot shower she’d taken, Hailey wasn’t able to relax enough to rest. By the time visiting hours approached she had already had three cups of the strongest coffee she could find.
Her leg bounced anxiously in the back seat of the car, her nerves building as she and Will were driven to the hospital. The scenery passed outside the windows, but Hailey couldn’t even enjoy the sights of a new city—her sole focus was on getting to Jay.
Arriving at Landstuhl, Hailey barely gave the car time to stop before she was hoping out. Will quickly thanked the driver and followed after her, meeting her at the front desk. She had already given the nurse their information, so a visitor’s pass was handed to him.
Another nurse appeared and led them to an elevator, taking them up to the fourth floor. Hailey is vibrating with excitement but instead of heading toward the patient rooms, the nurse leads them towards a small conference room where two men were waiting for them. “Hailey, Will, this is Dr. Alder; he’s been in charge of Jay’s care since he arrived. This is Captain Sillard, he’s one of our social workers and he’ll be here to assist you with anything or any arrangements needed.”
Hailey and Will nodded their understanding. The nurse smiled and left the room, closing the door behind them.
“Please have a seat,” Captain Sillard said, gesturing to the chairs across the table from his own. “Can I get you some water or some coffee maybe?”
Hailey shook her head and took a seat. Will did the same. He could feel the nervous energy radiating off of Hailey and he spoke, trying to lighten the mood. “No thank you, I think she’s had enough coffee today to power this entire hospital.”
Dr. Alder and Captain Sillard smiled, chuckling even as Hailey smacked Will’s chest. His quip worked; Hailey looked at least a little calmer.
“Is everything ok with Jay?” Hailey asked, quietly.
“Everything is fine,” Captain Sillard promised. “We just wanted to have a moment to speak with you about his care and condition before taking you to see him.”
“Ranger Halstead has improved drastically since his arrival a little over a week ago at the base hospital.” Dr. Alder started. “Before arriving here at Landstuhl, he had an operation to remove his spleen followed by another operation the next day to repair a punctured lung and stabilize some broken ribs. He had a skull fracture that caused some swelling in his brain, so they kept him sedated until he was stable enough to transport here.”
“He was also being closely monitored for any additional internal bleeding. Thankfully, keeping him sedated allowed his body to stabilize and no other interventions were needed. He arrived here about 36 hours ago.”
Dr. Alder watched as the people in front of him visibly relaxed a little. He couldn’t imagine how they’d felt the past week, being so far away from their loved one.
“There are some things you need to be aware of though,” the doctor spoke again. “His left arm is broken in two places. They set the breaks at the base hospital and splinted his arm. We took updated X-rays when he arrived to see if his arm was ready to be put in a cast and the x-rays showed that the bones had shifted again. We’d like to go in and repair the breaks surgically, but he’s fighting a mild case of pneumonia and we don’t want to put him under for another surgery until the infection is gone.”
“And there’s no way the bones could heal properly without surgery?” Will asked, his doctor brain kicking in, trying to find a way to help his brother. His brother, who hated needles and surgery and anything involving hospitals.
“We set the bones again after his X-rays and splinted his arm, but our orthopedic surgeon feels that, based on the locations and severity of the breaks, surgery would be his best option.”
Hailey and Will both nodded, though the decision would (and should) ultimately be Jay’s to make.
“Can we see him?” Hailey asked. She knew Jay had been badly injured, Mouse and CAO Ringer had told her as much, but hearing it firsthand at the hospital made it real and all she wanted was to see Jay.
“Soon,” Dr. Alder promised. “There’s one more thing you need to be aware of though. Despite the severity of his head injury, Jay’s cognitive function is wholly unaffected. There are no deficits we’ve seen so far, except for one that was discovered when he woke up at the base hospital: he has no memory of the attack.”
Hailey and Will had two very different reactions. Hailey played shocked on the outside—her phone calls with Mouse had already alerted her to this news, but Will and the others didn’t know about those. Inside, however, she was grateful. Jay’s injuries alone told her the attack was incredibly vicious, she was thankful he wasn’t being plagued by a difficult mental recovery along with his physical recovery.
Will, however, was shocked through and through. He didn’t know what Hailey knew, he only knew what Mark and the notification officers told him—Jay had been badly injured. Since getting the news, Will had imagined Jay getting shot or blown up or injured in a helicopter or Humvee crash but Jay being the victim of a brutal attack never crossed his mind. Hearing the extent of Jay’s injuries, and his experience working in Emergency Medicine in Chicago, Will knew instantly that the attack on Jay was deliberate.
“Jay was attacked?!” Will asked, his voice rising from the shock.
“You weren’t made aware of how Jay was injured?” Dr. Alder asked, confused.
Will shook his head. “No, the notification officers just told us he was injured. They didn’t tell us how, just that an investigation had been opened.”
Will’s mind was racing; he couldn’t believe what he’d been told. His gaze immediately went to Hailey and upon seeing her reaction, some of his shock turned into anger. She was doing a good job of acting the part, but Will knew her. He’d known her for years now, he’s seen how she reacted to news like this. The news they just got? Hailey already knew. Will didn’t know how she already knew that Jay was attacked but she did, and she didn’t tell him.
“Do you know who attacked him?” Hailey questioned. She was proud of the shock she was able to portray in her voice—judging by the faces of Dr. Alder and Captain Sillard, they believed it. In her peripheral, she could see the looks Will was throwing her. Hailey saw the genuine shock on his face and saw how his body tensed when Dr. Alder mentioned the attack. She also saw the way his body language changed when he looked at her and realized she wasn’t as shocked as he was. He might not have known her as well as Jay, but Will knew her enough to know something was up.
“There’s an open investigation,” Captain Sillard stated. “His COs visited him before his transfer to see if he could tell them what happened, but he couldn’t.”
Dr. Alder jumped in. “We’ve done some basic cognitive checks with Jay, but we haven’t been permitted to question him about what happened.”
Captain Sillard took over. “He’ll be interviewed again before he’s transferred back to the states and most likely again there.”
“Apart from the swelling and the skull fracture, there’s no damage to his brain. The hope is that as Jay continues to heal, his memory will come back.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Hailey asked.
“We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it,” Dr. Alder declared. He checked the time on his watch and stood from his chair, looking at the people in front of him. “In the meantime, Jay should be back in his room from his scans. Are you ready to see him?”
Hailey’s eyes lit up and she quickly stood from her chair. For a moment Will pushed his anger at his sister-in-law (and the situation) aside, choosing instead to focus on finally getting to see his brother.
As soon as he was out of his chair, Dr. Alder and Captain Sillard were leading them through the hallways until they stopped outside of Jay’s hospital room. Before allowing them to enter, Dr. Alder grabbed their attention again. “He’ll most likely still be asleep—we usually bolus his pain meds when we take him for scans. He’s refused the stronger pain meds we’ve offered, so full doses knock him out.”
Will scoffed because that was just like his brother. “Why is he refusing pain meds?”
“He’s not refusing all pain meds, just narcotics unless they are absolutely needed.” Dr. Alder tried to soothe the obviously annoyed brother but his own frustration at his stubborn patient was bleeding through. “Usually at the end of the day because the over-the-counter meds he takes during the day can’t handle his pain levels long term at this point in his recovery.”
“He says he doesn’t like the foggy feeling they give him,” Captain Sillard added quietly. “I think he’s trying to make himself remember what happened.”
He’d been appraised of the situation, given details of the attack and Jay’s resulting injuries, and he couldn’t imagine what the Ranger was going through. Jay had been attacked, beaten almost to death, by someone on the base and he was the only one who would be able to fill in all the blanks. But he couldn’t because he had no memory of it.
Captain Sillard’s words seemed to dissipate some of the frustration the doctor and brother in front of him were feeling. It didn’t go away completely, that was clear by the looks on their faces, but Jay’s choices were in perspective now and they at least understood.
“I understand and I empathize, but him being in constant pain is not helping.” Dr. Alder looked from the Captain to his patient’s family. “He needs to keep his pain under control for him to heal. If you could, encourage him to use his pain pump.”
Will nodded for both of them since Hailey’s focus was on the door or rather, the person behind it. He’d be surprised if she’d heard anything that was said since they arrived at Jay’s room.
Dr. Alder moved to open the door but once again stopped to look at Hailey and Will. “Given Jay’s situation, we’re under strict orders from the CID to not discuss the attack with or around Jay. They don’t want anything tainting or influencing his memory.”
Captain Sillard took over. “If he happens to remember anything about the attack, don’t ask him any questions, don’t tell him anything you know, just tell someone on his care team and they’ll take the next steps.”
Will and Hailey both nodded this time. Hailey especially understood the importance of witness and victim statements in investigations.
With a returned nod Dr. Alder opened the door to Jay’s room, finally allowing Hailey and Will in to see Jay.
Hailey went immediately to Jay’s side, grabbing his hand and bending over to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Her free hand moved to Jay’s hair and she stroked her fingers through the short locks. Will stopped at the foot of Jay’s bed, staring at his brother. As he took in the healing bruises, the splint on his arm, and the machines and monitors surrounding Jay, his anger flared again.
He heard, rather than saw, Dr. Alder and Captain Sillard leave and after turning his head to make sure they were gone, Will turned his attention, and anger, onto Hailey.
“How long?”
Hailey kept her focus on Jay. She knew what Will was asking but she just wanted to focus on her husband. “How long what?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Will sneered. “How long have you known about the attack?”
Turning her head towards Will, Hailey glared at her brother-in-law. She let go of Jay’s hand and moved to the end of the bed, stopping an arms-length away from Will. “You haven’t seen your brother in person in months. We’re visiting him in the hospital. Is this really what you want to do right now?”
“You’re damn right I do!” Will yelled. “You’ve known about the attack this entire time, haven’t you?”
Hailey was quiet for a minute before nodding her head.
Will scoffed. “Of course you did.”
Will started pacing back and forth in front of Jay’s bed. He was like a caged animal, angry and snarling. “You didn’t think to tell me? Didn’t I deserve to know what happened to Jay?”
“I wasn’t even supposed to know Will!” Hailey argued. She knew her brother-in-law well; he wore his heart on his sleeve and he was very protective of those he loved. She’d anticipated his blow-up as soon as Dr. Alder mentioned the attack, but the past week had been the worst time of her life and Hailey was not in the mood to be yelled at. “You think the Army’s going around telling civilians that one of their soldiers was attacked on base? That they can’t keep their own people safe?”
“The person who told me took a big risk to give me answers, a very big risk like a court-martial or dishonorable discharge big. It was someone Jay knows and loves, and I wasn’t going to put his career, his life, at risk by telling anyone else.”
“So I’m just supposed to accept that? Be lied to? I’m his brother!”
“And I’m his wife!” Hailey rebutted.
The two had been so invested in their argument they failed to notice the small movement coming from Jay. It wasn’t until they heard Jay groan that they turned their attention back to him, moving quickly back to surround his hospital bed.
The tension between Hailey and Will was still thick but seeing Jay’s green eyes looking back at them made it all disappear, just for a moment.
… … …
It was about two hours later, after a barrage of conversations and consultations with different doctors and specialists, that Jay and Hailey finally had a moment to themselves.
Will had stepped out to check in with Natalie and Owen, leaving Jay and Hailey alone.
He tugged gently on her hand, bringing Hailey closer until she was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.
Hailey moved her free hand to cup Jay's face. "You scared the hell out of me."
Jay didn't say anything. He couldn't really, because the whole thing had scared him too. Instead, he turned his head slightly and placed a kiss on Hailey’s palm.
Hailey stroked Jay's cheek with her thumb, the two of them staring at each other and basking in the peace that came with just being together.
Jay had missed Hailey so much and he didn't want to ruin the moment, but something had been bugging him since he'd woken up. He placed another kiss on the inside of Hailey’s wrist before asking her the question that had been on his mind. “Wanna tell me what you and Will were arguing about?”
Hailey sighed and dropped her hand to lightly lay on Jay’s chest, right above his heart. “You heard that, huh?”
“Not all of it, just the last part,” Jay answered. Then, he gave Hailey one of his signature smirks. “Want me to punch him for you?”
Hailey laughed–a true, full belly laugh–for the first time in a long time but shook her head. “We’ll both get over it. It’s just been a rough week, emotions are high.”
That was the understatement of the century. Jay couldn’t begin to imagine what Hailey and Will had been going through the past week.
As much as Hailey’s words rang true, Jay also saw something in her face that told him he wasn’t getting the full story. He nodded anyway, knowing that whatever Hailey wasn’t saying would come out eventually.
#one hell of an amen#army ranger jay halstead au#jay halstead#hailey upton#upstead#army jay au#chicago pd
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Finished rereading the 2nd TLOS book and I'm in tears... Alex and Connor thought they'd be parted forever.. Only being able to contact each other through mirrors :'c Going to go cry about this
#Jay talks#The land of stories#Alex Bailey#Connor Bailey#Although it's sad their grandma died and the army invaded the fairy tale world#I'm tearing up just thinking of them being dimensions away from each other forever#Thank goodness Alex and Connor can still meet each other#And I know they wanted to close the portal because of Ezmia but couldn't they have given them more time?? Not just a day???#They could've given them at least one extra day to bond..#Connor didn't even know Alex was staying until they were closing the portal#That made me soooo so sad. AND THEY HUGGED ASDOSJSKEJ#I love the Bailey twins so much they're so dear to me#Crying about an AU where the portal stays closed and they never meet again :'(
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Pilot Ninja Headcanons
All of the ninjas were between 12 to 14 years of age (Jay & Kai: 12 y/o, Cole: 13 y/o, Zane: 14 y/o), but Cole and Kai took the title of "mature leaders"
Minne appeared 17 y/o, but only Kai and Cole regarded her as a older sibling figure. Zane regarded her as on the same level as Master Wu while Jay found a fellow chaotic gremlin.
Kai is surprisingly the most forward and honest about his feelings in the group. Mostly b/c he had Minne and Nya before, but the other ninjas didn't share the same openness
The skeletons gave everyone nightmares after the events of the pilot season. Halloween was not a fun time that year when every skeleton was practically dejointed (Cole) and eviscerated (Minne, Kai, Nya)
Everyone had to reach the monastery by climbing the side of the mountain. Everyone with the exception of Cole, fell a couple of times and had to be helped.
The other ninjas had to huddle in one room for most of the days once Kai arrived—their aversion to him was more of irritation at constant hiding.
On that note, Kai's not allowed to have an electric toothbrush. Instead, he's the only one to have a wooden one.
Everyone knew that Minne and Wu had some history the minute they met. The bets ranged from adoptive daughter to sister, where Zane won the bet somehow. Kai was excluded for obvious reasons.
Fastest speed-runner through the training course from fast to slow is Kai, Jay, Zane, and Cole. Of course, Minne is the fastest with Wu battling Kai for second place.
#ninjago#rewrite/plothole au#ninjago oc#minne#lego ninjago#ninjago headcanons#headcanon#sensei wu#ninjago kai#ninjago zane#ninjago cole#ninjago jay#ninjago nya#skeleton army
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even in undeath - chapter 1.
lich king aemond x reader
a 'world of warcraft' AU.
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The Lich King is the master and lord of the Scourge. Consisting of thousands of walking corpses, disembodied spirits, beasts of the north, and damned mortal men, the Scourge is a terrifying and insidious enemy.
word count: 2.3k
@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.
content: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, DUBCON, smut, heavy heavy angst, graphic depictions of violence, allusions to cannibalism, imprisonment, kidnapping, murder, suicidal thoughts and ideation, mutilation of corpses, obsessive aemond, dark aemond, a happy ending is not in our future.
PLEASE MIND THE TAGS! This story will be pretty dark.
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It was dark and cold. There was a faint dripping of water somewhere off to the side, but you couldn’t quite see where. The echoes of whimpers ricocheted off of the craggy walls, stinging your eardrums.
This was the descent into madness, wasn’t it?
You weren’t sure how long you’d been chained up for— how long had it been since your village burned to the ground? Since you watched the ghouls rip apart the cow farmer from down the road. Since you watched hellhounds crunching on little Mary Jay’s bones. Since you had watched your mother and stepfather plead and beg for their lives, for forgiveness, for mercy, for absolution of their supposed sins before the death knight’s sword lopped their heads off.
How long has it been?
Shifting slightly, the chain tied to your throat clinked against the wall. There was no light, no passage of time to be had in the dank, pitch black cave they stowed you and a few select others in. You only had on a ragged potato sack as a dress, the sensation of dirt and grime caked on your hair and under your nails making you feel less than human.
But— you were still human. For now. The Scourge had ravaged the Eastern Kingdoms without mercy, swiping through the North and South like a fast traveling plague, curdling and damning everything it touched. Hordes of undead zombies, ghouls and hellhounds were the first to raze the cities, driving out the people like mice from the walls. Then the banshees came, along with the necromancers to raise the dead, adding them to a forever amounting army.
Not even Quel’thalas had been able to resist it, an ancient elven city hewn in magic.
What chance did you have?
More than most, evidently. Your mind wrought itself over and over as to why— why were you alive? Why were you still human and not merely a risen thrall?
The clinking of armor scared you as it ascended the hallway. You pressed close to the wall and closed your eyes.
Please don’t stop here, please don’t stop here.
Clink, clink, clink… closer… closer…
Then it passed, descending further away. You let out a breath, your blood still pumping in your ears.
Clink, clink, clink. They were coming back. Clink… silence. You felt bile rise in your throat as you shook, the chains rattling noisily. You knew they were standing there, you knew they were here for you.
A harsh tug upon your chain, your head hitting the floor— some words were mumbled, the voice sounding far away and broken. Your eardrums rang with the ferocity of your fall, drowning out any semblance of what your jailer was saying to you. Then, you were tugged upward, the cool metal of the collar biting into your skin as you were dragged like a petulant child away from your cell…
You didn’t want to open your eyes. You couldn’t face the horror you knew was around you— corpses, living ones and dead, the clatter of bones, the heavy breathing of gargantuan abominations, bodies and faces of countless people stitched together into a new body, hewn with thread and necrotic magic until it gave way to something else entirely. Something unnatural, something made of nightmares. The dermis of those who were used to make the monsters would still twitch, reach out on its own, and if it had a mouth, it would be twisted into a scream. You swore that you heard them whispering as you were dragged by.
The monstrosities were one of many abhorrent creatures at the Scourge’s disposal. Hellhounds, ghouls, gargoyles, wraiths, crypt lords, geists, banshees, and other things of horrific nature were only some of the power wielded by the Scourge. It felt like it was all pulled out of a child’s fairytale, changed and twisted and defiled into what it was now.
It all felt like a very bad dream.
Your eyes opened on their own and you took in the image of death knights, former paladins who served a higher power, the Light— now are nothing but undead heretics, glowing eyes and gaunt stares that bored through you.
Some of the monsters chittered as you were dragged past them, leering and looking hungry.
‘Scrawny that one. Perhaps she will suffice for hellhounds to pick their teeth.’
‘Speak for yourself, her skin will do beautifully on a new abomination.’
‘She won’t be knighted. Merely a maid’s bastard, I’ve heard.’
You forced your eyes to close once more, the sudden light stinging them. You forced yourself into another time, a better memory than what you were experiencing.
They were right, you were a maid’s bastard. Your mother had served in the royal keep for years, with you under her feet. You didn’t know who your true father was, nor did you care.
You became attached to the second son of the King— Aemond Targaryen. He was a sprightly boy with near white hair and luminous violet eyes. The two of you were attached at the hip.
Childhood friendship blossomed into more as you grew into teenagers and young adults— you shared your first kiss together, you held hands and shared sweet nothings. As he trained by day to become a paladin of the Light, he held you close by night, vowing to never let you go. You were both terribly in love and so terribly, terribly naive. He was your first in everything– your first friend, your first kiss, your first lover. You promised yourself that he would stay your first and only.
‘You can never marry a maid’s bastard, Aemond! You’re a prince of the realm-‘
‘I don’t care! I want her, father. I’ve always wanted her!’
Your mother quit her job at the castle— moreso, threatened into quitting by some of the King’s advisors. She was given a considerable amount of coin and told to take you far, far away and to not contact the prince again.
Heartbroken, you left him your sapphire ring, the only thing of value you ever had, which had been passed down through your mother’s family for generations.
It was left on his desk with a note of few words but much feeling.
‘I love you. I’m sorry.’
That was over ten years ago. You hadn’t seen him since, but you missed him horribly. Especially now. You wondered if he was still alive, fighting against the Scourge like his knightly vows dictated.
Maybe he was married and moved across the sea to Kalimdor where it was safer.
Or maybe he was dead. Dead like almost everyone else you knew.
You heard a rumor, fleeting and without much more information, that his father had died– no, that his father had been murdered. The fall of the king, Viserys, is what started the Scourge war. Did Aemond know, wherever he was?
You imagined him holding his arms around you, kissing your neck and fanning his breath over your skin. He liked to encompass you completely with his body when you laid together— you never could emulate the feeling with heavy blankets and pillows, as much as you tried. Putting yourself back into that memory, you wrapped your arms around yourself, willing warmth into your body.
But you didn’t feel any warmth. All you felt was cold, cold down to your bones. They felt brittle, like ice, splintering into shards as you were thrown on the floor again in a different room. Pain bloomed in your arm as it cracked at an awkward angle. Broken.
Your ears rang again as your mouth opened into a scream, tears of pure anguish squeezing from your eyes. But you didn’t hear a thing besides the rush of blood dampening your senses— and the sickening crunch of your broken bones.
‘What have you done to it, Lady Deathwhisper? It looks broken.’
‘It’s human bones are so brittle, it was merely a slip of the hand. I cannot help that their living constitution is so weak.’
‘His grace will not be pleased if it is broken beyond repair.’
‘Worry not, Lady Alys. Most things can be mended— and if not, it can always be raised.’
‘Physical defects aren’t the only issue. What of its mind?’
You feel an acute sensation over your skull, reaching into the depths of your cranium. Its cold, but not stinging— like a soft caress upon your brain as your mind is rifled through like a tome. You can feel your memories being perused, all of the most intimate moments of your life flashing in your head like playwright’s prose. The physicality of your mind being invaded wasn’t painful, but the act of your memories being ripped from you was damning. Tears fell down your face on their own, your mouth opened into a silent scream.
‘She is the one— I saw it. You are lucky that you did not break her mind completely, Lady Deathwhisper.’
‘As are you. You do not have a deft hand when it comes to memory perusal, Lady Alys. I am surprised that it still has a brain in its skull.’
‘Shut up and bring her to him. He will be pleased she is still alive. Barely.’
You felt yourself being moved again, still reeling from the invasion of your mind. You tried to put yourself back into the safe haven of memories, but they were… locked. Locked behind an iron door with no keyhole. They were lost to you.
What were you trying to remember?
Flashes of white hair and violet eyes flitted behind your eyelids, soft caresses and kisses, heavy breathing and love filled promises, the sensation of skin to skin…
Your eyes opened, vision bleary. A helmed woman followed behind you, wings outstretched. You could see the glint of green eyes under her helm. Val’kyr. The woman behind you was a Val’kyr, a spirit guide who defected to the side of the Scourge. They could move between the realm of living and dead as simply as taking a breath.
“The little human is awake,” she mused. “Your mind isn’t broken after all? I do see a glint of intelligence behind those eyes. Keep them on me, you shan’t wish to look upon Lady Deathwhisper.”
You didn’t want to speak, words caught in your throat like food stuck in your craw. A val’kyr was basically an angel of death and talking to one must mean you are dead.
You wish you were.
The chains scraped against the floor, which was no longer stone like before, but rather, hardened ice. You were ascending upward, it seemed. The architecture of the building was nothing like you’d ever seen— dark metal was plated upon the walls, inscribed with glowing runes. The runes looked… familiar to you, somehow. But the memory that contained them was locked away, or mayhaps stolen by the Val’kyr, Alys.
The temperature was cold, you were being lofted upon ice, of course, but you didn’t wholly feel it. You were partially numb, heat radiating from your broken arm. You knew you should be feeling pain— but you were just… numb.
Your escorts stopped in front of two large doors, inscribed with the same glowing runes. Against Alys’ advice, you glanced at ‘Lady Deathwhisper’. She was skeletal, floating upon the ground with no legs to speak of. Her robes were purple fabric, molded around an incorporeal body. She spoke in a language you didn’t understand, the scratchy voice of hers coming out of a bone skull, but the mouth wasn’t moving, maw open as the words came out.
You should have listened to Alys.
The door opened with a rumble, opened by ancient magic, likely imbued by the runes, as they flickered and flitted above your head as it opened. The room beyond was open and bereft of almost anything, except for a throne. A throne forged of ice and swords.
Someone was sitting upon it in a lazed position, one plated gloved finger tapping on the arm of the throne.
“We’ve brought her, your grace,” Lady Deathwhisper growled, shoving you forward. You skidded across the floor, which felt slick like grazing atop an ice-capped lake. “Alys confirmed it is her.”
The clinking of armor caught your attention, the sound of metal grazing against ice. It was irritating and made you grind your teeth. As whoever was on the throne got closer, the force was oppressive. Whimpers and tiny cries were ripped from you as they walked towards you, the aura exuding from them causing you to fall flat to the ground, feeling as if someone was sitting atop of your chest and not letting up.
The steel plated boot was in front of you now and your hair was grabbed rather harshly, pulling you up.
Don’t look, don’t look. You cannot look.
“Look. At. Me.” the voice growled. It was quiet but commanding at the same time, rattling in your bones and making a home amongst the marrow. It felt familiar… so…
You lifted your bloodshot eyes, not out of your own volition, but from the authority of the voice.
“Hello, little dove.” he mused.
It was him. It was… it… Aemond. You knew him so well, even with ten years gone. His chiseled jawline and chin and the dimple of the tip of his nose…
But his eye was missing, a jagged scar bisecting it. In its place was a sapphire. The sapphire from your ring, grown into something to make home in the socket.
You felt everything and nothing all at once, your stomach flipped and flopped like a fish hoisted from the sea, sputtering for air. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t–
Your best friend, your lover, the one you vowed to never forget, to never forsake.
Aemond Targaryen.
Aemond Targaryen was the Lich King. A defiler, a mass murderer, an unholy being in his own right.
“Now you won’t be able to leave again, will you?” Aemond murmured, his violet eye roving you. It was glowing slightly– his skin was a pale gray pallor, cheeks sunken slightly. He was undead.
Your eyes rolled back in your head, vision going black.
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#aemond x fem!reader#aemond#aemond one eye#hotd fic#aemond fanfic#aemond smut#dark aemond smut#dark aemond angst#my writing#even in undeath#hotd au
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who's your bias? | kth
Everyone says idols shouldn’t date their fans. Little did you know the crazy sasaengs aren't the ones who might ruin your relationship. It might just be your boyfriend's best friends.
» pairing: idol!taehyung x music producer girlfriend!reader
» genre: BTS | 18+ | idol au | established relationship | fluffy smut | lil bit of angst | an attempt at army-specific humor
» wc/date: 12.6k | January 2023
» warnings: canon divergent (i'm just making shit up y'all, as usual) | jealousy | relationship insecurity | reader might seem annoying at first but i swear it gets cute very quickly | tae enjoys using terms of endearment | soft!dom tae | finger sucking | thigh riding | tae's got a Big Dick, but what else is new? | blowjob | fingering | unprotected vaginal sex | overstimulation | a breeding kink is ~hinted at~ | cunnilingus | yoonmin4ever
» notes: this was entirely self-indulgent 😂 i hope my taehyung whores enjoy my first idol au oneshot. also i wrote 80% of this while i was high and with no beta so if it's bad, now you know why
» masterlist | ao3 | join my taglist
» what was jai listening to? impatient - jeremih ft. ty dolla $ign
“Y/N, stop it right now.”
Your boyfriend breathes the command faster than you can even open your mouth to greet him. With a roll of your eyes, you put your phone on speaker and sit it on the floor beside you. Rummaging through the cardboard boxes littering your apartment is easier done with both hands.
“Why hello, Taehyung. What a pleasure to hear from you.”
“Are you seriously mad at me right now?” From the whine in his voice you’re positive he’s wearing a deep pout, bottom lip jutting out as far as it can. You love kissing his pouts away.
But not this time! And not just because you’re on opposite sides of the world.
“Shouldn’t you be asleep? It’s so late there and I’m sure you’re very tired from displaying your dick to all of America for three hours.”
The cardboard box in front of you has “BEDROOM” scribbled in your father’s handwriting on the side in thick, black Sharpie. It’s full of little trinkets and random decor. A Shooky plushie is crammed into the corner in between a cracked Army bomb and a small framed photo of you with your parents. You smile to yourself despite your boyfriend’s huffing over the phone. Your father had given you a strange look as he helped you pack the items as if to ask, Really? Do you really need these?
Just because you’re dating a member of BTS now doesn’t mean you can’t cherish your old BTS merch! It’s not weird, in your opinion. It would only be weird if you made it weird. And you weren’t making it weird.
“I did not display my dick!”
You roll your eyes for probably the fifth time while you ponder where to put Shooky. You'd kept it on your dresser in your old home in the States. Something tells you Taehyung won’t appreciate the lack of a Tata beside it.
“You were thrusting and throwing it around! And pointing at it while doing it, too!”
“Y/N!”
“Don’t Y/N me! I have my TikTok evidence!”
With your cracked Army bomb in hand, you open the app in question, scrolling through your favorited videos until you get to the one. The one uploaded only a day before. The one you’d texted to Taehyung which prompted his immediate phone call.
“And what does the caption say?” you ask but then cut Taehyung off before he can answer the question. “It says, and I quote, ‘I will never forget Taehyung doing this. I looped this for hours. Kim Taehyung lives in my head rent-free.’ Hashtag Taehyung. Hashtag HipsDon’tLie. With the woozy face emoji. And do we need to discuss the music choice?”
“Y/N, can you please-”
“Slut Me Out,” you deadpan in a monotone voice. “That is the song they chose for you.”
The other end is silent for so long you start to feel bad. Every time your jealousy spikes, you seem to act on impulse rather than thinking through how you might make Taehyung feel. Yes, he sometimes plays his part in the group a little too well, but you also knew that this was his job. It’s his job to make people get excited - excited for the music, the group, and himself as an idol.
Still, your opinion is the most important to him, and you know that.
“Jagiya…” Taehyung sniffles and you feel your heart shatter.
Fuck, you really are a bitch, aren’t you?
“Tae, I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know, I didn’t really think anything of it. It’s just an act, y’know?”
You did know. Away from the stage and the cameras, Taehyung is quiet, almost shy. He’s happy to be a silent observer of whatever chaos his members create. He gifts everyone with puffy cheeks and boxy grins, sometimes a boisterous laugh that manages to make your heart soar every time. But the soft-spoken soul you listen to old school R&B with while you smoke strawberry swisher blunts on the balcony late into the night, and convince that yes, the apartment is soundly built and no, the balcony will not randomly fall out beneath you… That person is different from the person you see wearing a resting bitch face in interviews or the person who chews away at imaginary gum during concerts.
You find all versions of Taehyung endearing, although the fake gum chewing is kind of embarrassing if you wanted to be perfectly honest.
“I know, Tae. I’m sorry I’m being judgmental for no reason,” you insist and you hope he believes you. Complaints about his idol status typically resulted in red eyes and sniffles, yet sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing his pressure points despite his sensitivity.
Your apology puts Taehyung in a better mood because his following comment is cheekier than you expect.
“You get jealous a lot, jagi.” His smug tone is close to bringing back your irritation.
“I am not jealous of some fans in a stadium, thanks.”
“Good,” he says more cheerfully. “‘Cause I only have sights for you.”
That makes you laugh and you feel your earlier heaviness disappear. “You mean, you only have eyes for me?”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
You shake your head as if Taehyung can see you. A few photo strips are beneath Shooky in the cardboard box. You silently curse your father (respectfully and endearingly) for casually placing something so fragile in the bottom of a box. The photos are of you and Taehyung in a photo booth at a birthday party for an idol you didn’t know. An actor, you think. You thumb at one of the corners of the photo strip that has curled inward. Taehyung’s hair was straight then, and short, falling just above his ears. You much prefer the thick waves he wears now.
“You’re so cute.”
“Only for you.”
“Oh shut up, now you’re being corny.”
You’re not sure why, but you try to suppress the smile Taehyung’s light flirting coaxes out of you, even though he can’t see you. Accepting his teasing affection has always been hard for you. All the boys are too caring; it makes you uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. You’re just not used to men acting like that. They’re all very different from the men you’ve been around growing up. There’s a reason Taehyung can’t listen to you talk about your ex-boyfriends without getting pissed.
“Mmm, maybe. I’m also sleepy,” Taehyung slurs. His voice is so soft you almost can’t hear him, so you lift your phone to your ear rather than use the speaker setting. The smoothness feels like a lullaby gentle enough to carry you to sleep, even though it’s still daylight in Seoul.
“Goodnight, Kim.” You decide for him, knowing he would stay on the phone if you let him.
Confirming your thoughts, Taehyung grumbles when he speaks next. “I love you, jagi.”
“I love you, too.” People always talk about the “honeymoon phase” when the butterflies disappear and couples no longer feel the exciting draw toward each other anymore. It’s been less than a year since you started dating Taehyung, but you’re confident that your heart will always flutter when you hear those three words so confidently spoken. Taehyung had been the first to say it; something about that makes you even more sure of your relationship.
“Can’t wait to see you soon so I can slut you out.”
“... please go to bed and never say that ever again.”
In the distance, you hear someone start yelling. The noise is accompanied by a rather aggressive ruffling sound, as though Taehyung’s phone is being rubbed against fabric.
“Are you two having phone sex?” The second voice accuses, this time sounding much clearer.
“Hyung, leave me alone,” Taehyung whines. “Y/N, tell him to go away.”
You let out a long sigh, but the grin finally cuts through the hardened expression you try to maintain. “Goodnight, Jimin.”
It sounds like the two boys start physically fighting each other before Taehyung lets out a breathy, “Goodnight, baby,” accompanied by Jimin screeching something you can’t understand before the call ends.
With a shake of your head, you leave your phone on the floor and get up to position Shooky and your Army bomb on your dresser. You’ll figure out what to do with it later, you decide.
Later ends up being three more days of you giving a half-assed attempt to sort through the boxes. Your bedroom is mostly organized by the end of the week with only one more box remaining, shoved into the corner of the room. It’s a bunch of family keepsakes that will make you cry if you start looking at them.
Right now you want to make a beeline to the kitchen.
It’s hard not to trip over all the boxes that litter your apartment, most of them already torn open and half-empty. The kitchen hasn’t been fully unpacked, either, so you opt for instant ramen in the microwave rather than dig for utensils to cook a proper meal. It’s pretty bad. You and Taehyung are a terrible match; you both have no idea how to cook. There’s no point in all the fancy kitchenware your parents bought you. You’ll never master any of it. It’s not because you don’t put in any effort, like Taehyung. You’re genuinely shit at cooking.
And baking? That’s even worse.
You stand in the middle of your living room while you shovel ramen in your mouth. It’s too hot, so you inhale loudly through your teeth to cool the food off before it scorches your throat. There’s so much you need to do, and it’s making you nauseous thinking about it. Somewhere in the mix of boxes are your Hangeul textbooks that you should be studying in your free time instead of playing video games and video chatting with your friends. It’s only been a week and a half, but you already feel lonely without the constant presence of your friends and family. The boys have been on tour the entire time. Namjoon decided you moving to Seoul while they’re on tour would make your arrival less suspicious, and everyone would be more focused on the tour than whatever an unknown American music producer is doing.
In your opinion, Namjoon was overthinking the whole thing as he is wont to do. But you let him be bossy because you know his heart is in the right place. It’s not like the public knows you’re dating Taehyung. There hasn’t been any press or rumors about you at all. You’re genuinely unknown.
You prefer it that way.
Your fork scrapes the bottom of the bowl and you realize you’ve scarfed down the ramen without much thought. You suppose it’s easier to do that when you aren’t using chopsticks. (You’ve managed to master them, for the most part, but you prefer to fall back on forks when you’re alone at home.)
You place the bowl on top of the large cardboard box in front of the couch. It has the pieces for your coffee table inside, but you haven’t had the energy to put it together yet. The part of you that allows your feminism to leave your body whenever the boys are around is kind of hoping you can get one of them to build it for you. Maybe Yoongi. He’s into that kind of stuff.
With a sigh, you flop onto the couch and slip your phone out of your back pocket. A few Whatsapp and KakaoTalk notifications light up the screen. You used to be terrible at responding to texts, but moving halfway across the world has made you a better texter. It’s a way to fill the loneliness.
[Alex] hey bitch
[Alex] this 15 hour time difference sucks ass
[You] I’m sorry
[Alex] its fine. i’ll forgive you for chasing money and dick
[You] I’m not chasing dick omg
[Alex] dont lie
[Alex] whats that tiffany pollard meme
[You] Stop
[Alex] i know his dick is big. i know it! i know it’s big!
[You] I hate you
[Alex] you didnt deny it. anywayyy did you see this?
As much as you adore Alex, she’s an expert at getting under your skin. You remind yourself that it’s all harmless as you click on the link she texts you.
BTS' V woos fans with his casual rockstar visuals on his return from world tour
Kim Taehyung, also known professionally as V of BTS, was spotted at John F. Kennedy International Airport on Friday. The singer is reportedly returning early to South Korea ahead of his band members after completing the final performance of their…
You don’t know why you read the shitty k-pop tabloids. You figure it’s the same reason why people make a hobby out of watching bad movies. There’s a weird itch in the back of your brain that can’t be scratched unless you open the link Alex texts you— teasingly, of course, because she thinks she’s being funny. Your friends don’t understand the nauseous feeling you get when you scroll through the article and accidentally click on a link that takes you to an external website flaunting doctored photos of your boyfriend with Jennie Kim.
BTS’ V and BLACKPINK’s Jennie Spend Romantic Weekend in Paris
You know it’s a lie because the weekend in question was the same weekend Taehyung flew you to Seoul to do a final walkthrough of your apartment before you signed off on it. Taehyung spent every second of that weekend by your side.
The article makes you sick anyway.
You’re so caught up in trying to craft a text to Alex to explain why she needs to leave you the fuck alone that you don’t hear the sound of your apartment’s front door open over the music you’re listening to.
“I’m gone for a few months and I come home to you listening to some other band?”
“Holy shit, Tae, you can’t do that to me,” you yelp when Taehyung leans over the back of the couch to hover over your shoulder.
“Explain yourself.” His voice is warm honey and milk even when his strong eyebrows point downward in mock disappointment. The expression is almost convincing, his naturally sharp features making conjuring up a dark appearance easier.
“You can’t tell me Stray Kids’ new album isn’t good.”
“Jagiya, I just got home,” Taehyung whines. “Kiss me and stop thirsting over Australian boys.”
He touches your chin to tip your head backward. You lean your head against the back of the couch and look up at him. The position makes you think of the iconic Spiderman kiss, seeing Taehyung’s face upside down above yours.
“Y’know, I worked on a few of their songs. Before I met you.”
The confession is meant to tease him for making fun of your music choice. Of course, words’ impact often diverges from intent. It’s in the twist of his face and the way he pulls back slightly just before his lips brush against yours that you know you’ve made him jealous.
“Oh did you?” His hair hangs around his face as he leans over you.
“Mhm, Bang Chan’s accent is really cu—”
You shouldn’t be shocked when strong hands squeeze your waist and Taehyung hauls you off the couch to stand in front of him. He wraps his arm around your waist to pull you tightly against his chest.
“You didn’t work with any other groups before us, okay?”
You purse your lips to hold in the laughter that threatens to explode from your chest. All you can do is nod in agreement. It reminds you of girls getting upset when they remember their boyfriends dated other people before them.
“Good.”
Taehyung dips his head down to connect his lips with yours. The closeness of his body forces you to inhale his cologne and feel goosebumps travel down your arms. It’s been months since you’ve so much as held Taehyung’s hand and you feel like you’ve been starved. Your body trembles so severely that you dig your nails into his biceps to hold yourself upright. You moan into his mouth, already open and ready for you because Taehyung is nothing but giving.
The kiss isn’t bruising, not yet. It’s slow and deep. Taehyung takes his time reminding himself of your taste. You grip the nape of his neck to pull him down as you meet him by standing on your tiptoes. His height has always been one of your favorite aspects of his physical appearance. Dark, watchful eyes that pierce into your soul might be at the top of the list.
His tongue swirls around yours, only retreating to suck your bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth graze along the plump skin, each nibble making you dizzy in the head. You normally hate wet kisses, but there’s something satisfying about seeing Taehyung’s lips pink and shiny with your spit when he finally pulls away. Pride thrums in your chest; you did that. You made his tan skin flush pink. You made his eyes dark and sharp. You made his breathing ragged and desperate.
And, fuck, does it feel good.
You run your fingers along his sharp jawline and watch the muscles flex beneath his taunt skin. “Don’t clench your jaw like that. It’s not good for you,” you muse, allowing your fingers to skim over his Adam’s apple.
“I’m trying to stay calm.”
Your eyebrows fly up with concern. “What’s wrong?”
“Wanna bend you over the couch and fuck you until you can’t walk,” Taehyung says with such a gentle tone that the stark difference between what he says and how he says it has your body trembling once again.
You inhale sharply and let your hand fall from his throat. Instead, you reach for the lapels of his leather jacket and squeeze them.
“Why don’t you?”
You can’t look at him when you ask. Even though you’ve been dating for almost a year, Taehyung still intimidates the hell out of you sometimes. The darkness of his eyes when he gets horny sends you reeling. You’re sure if you look up, you’ll see The Look. He stares at you unabashedly with an expression of desire so strong you feel like he might consume you just by looking at you.
“You haven’t eaten yet and I need to take a shower.”
“How do you know I haven’t eaten yet?” With a pout, you finally dare to look your boyfriend in the face. The way he gapes at you is judgmental and doesn’t make you feel devour-worthy at all.
“I know you,” he scoffs. “You’re just like Jimin. I bet you haven’t even been awake more than two hours.”
Barely a year into your relationship and he’s already reading you like an open book. You can’t stay salty about it when his bread cheeks come out and he’s giggling at the frustrated “hmph” you let out.
“I’ll be fast,” he promises with a smirk that collapses into another fit of giggles. The hearty slap on your ass encourages you toward the kitchen while Taehyung makes his way to the bathroom.
You did already eat, but today is an outlier. Normally, you are like Jimin, staying up too late and sleeping in longer than everyone else. And sometimes you’re like Yoongi, too. You get so caught up in the songs you’re working on that you forget to stop to eat or pee or look somewhere other than at a computer screen.
The move to Seoul threw you off your usual work schedule. Everything you need to get done is looming over your head like a dark cloud. If Namjoon comes back before you finish editing the English lyrics of his upcoming single, you might die of embarrassment, no matter how many times Taehyung insists that Namjoon won’t be disappointed.
Taehyung wasn’t lying about being quick. He’s wearing a white cotton t-shirt and grey sweatpants when he returns, hair damp and swept away from his face. You’re still standing at the fridge, painfully aware of how little food you have. Plenty of grapefruit soju, though. Priorities.
“Do you want ramen?” You eventually ask. When Taehyung doesn’t respond, you turn to give him a sheepish smile. He probably thinks you’re ridiculous.
Taehyung is sitting at the kitchen table with your phone in his hands. His eyebrows scrunch together and he turns to you with narrowed eyes.
“Why were you looking at this?”
He lifts your phone in your direction. The doctored photos of him and Jennie glare back at you. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.
“Tae, I didn’t—” You snap your mouth shut because, honestly, it looks bad. It looks bad no matter how you explain yourself because Taehyung’s bottom lip is already quivering and you know you’re both replaying the stupid TikTok phone call in your heads right now.
The two of you stare at each other for only god knows how long. You’re the first to break; not many people can hold their own in a staring contest with Kim Taehyung. Yoongi is probably the only one. Jungkook would give a valiant effort, but he’d ultimately crumble in a fit of nervous giggles. Taehyung is scary when he wants to be.
Dating Taehyung started as an unbelievably exciting experience. You had your brush with fame before meeting the boys, but Taehyung was the first idol to give you genuine attention beyond whatever job needed to be done. Not that you’d ever sought it out; you had more dignity than that. No, Taehyung pursued you. Who could blame you when you fell head over heels for the sinfully gorgeous man who seemed larger than life? The long legs, big hands, and chiseled features were dangerous enough. Throw in a glowing personality, quirky sense of humor, and a big-hearted desire to care for others and you had a man who was too good to be true.
And who are you? Some dumb American kid with average looks, a standoff personality as a result of having a bit of social anxiety (and trouble acclimating to a new country), and a penchant for fucking things up. Maybe it was your fault for not seriously considering how hard it was going to be to date an idol.
“C’mere, jagi,” Taehyung murmurs, beckoning you.
You expected waterworks— hell, you’re ready to start crying yourself. Instead, Taehyung wears a tired but soft smile. He holds your waist as you climb into his lap, straddling him. He wiggles a little in the chair to adjust you more comfortably on his thighs.
“Koreaboo, really?” He gathers your face in his hands, thumbs running across your cheeks. His hands are soft and you regret not washing your face when you woke up. Sometimes it’s not fun to date someone as beautiful as Taehyung.
“It was an accident.”
You avoid his gaze, but Taehyung coaxes you back to look him in the eyes. It’s hard. There’s so much passion swimming in them. He blinks up at you with an earnestness that makes your heart ache because you’re always the one causing problems.
“They could have at least used better pictures of me,” he complains with an exaggerated pout.
“Maybe I’ll send them some from my private collection.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Taehyung grins as he threatens you, so you grin back.
“Oh, I dare.”
Quick fingers dig into your sides and you let out an embarrassing squeal. Taehyung doesn’t let up on tickling you until you’ve got tears in your eyes and your threats to elbow him in the face start sounding a bit too real.
“Please don’t torture yourself with shit like that, okay?” He mumbles the request into your neck because your arms are thrown around his shoulders.
You slide your fingers into his hair to cradle his head against your chest. When you dig your nails into his scalp he lets out a low groan. Nothing about the position you’re in is sexual, but you’re quickly reminded that this is the most skin-on-skin contact you’ve had with your boyfriend in months. With that fact in mind, you don’t feel bad when you scoot further into his lap and squeeze his thighs with your own.
“Tae?”
“Hmm?” When he tilts his head back to look up at you, he’s got that spacey, blissed-out look on his face.
“Tell me you love me.” You place your finger against the little freckle on the tip of his nose.
The slow, boxy grin is almost better than hearing the words. Your finger migrates to touch the freckle on his lip.
“I love you with all my heart.” He punctuates the confession with a kiss on the tip of your finger. “Your turn.”
You roll your eyes, but it’s the reaction he’s looking for.
“I love you, too. You dork.”
“So romantic,” he laughs, but the amusement doesn’t reach his eyes. Instead, he watches you with lust darker than what consumed his expression earlier.
You sit with your breath burning in your lungs as Taehyung slips his hands beneath your baggy t-shirt. His smooth palms slide up your rib cage until he reaches your tits, palming one in each hand. The tilt of his chin tells you he wants another kiss, and who are you to deny him what he wants? You dig your nails in his hair harder while you kiss him, tugging to angle his head in the direction you want. Small moments like this give the appearance that you’re in control. And Taehyung loves domming while you both pretend you’re the one in charge.
He pulls back with a wet smack. If it was anyone else, you’d be ashamed of the whimper that sounds from your throat as Taehyung removes his hands from your shirt. You grip his hair tighter, but Taehyung just chuckles.
“So needy. What am I going to do with you?”
You could give him a couple of ideas. There isn’t time, though. Taehyung is already grasping your chin and tilting it down.
“Open up for me, okay?”
Your cheeks grow hot as you open your mouth. You already know where this is going, so you stick out your tongue. Still, it’s difficult not to squirm when Taehyung presses his index and middle fingers flat against the wet muscle.
“Suck.”
You swallow around his fingers, sucking as best you can as he begins to thrust them into your mouth. It’s vulgar, the wet suctioning sound of his fingers dragging against your tongue. In and out, a steady pace that doesn’t go too fast. Taehyung has such long, gorgeous fingers. You quite enjoy when he wrecks your insides with them until you’re on the brink of tears. Which you’ve come to find is something Taehyung thoroughly enjoys doing.
“You miss having your pretty mouth stuffed?”
You know any attempt at a spoken response will come out as a garbled mess. You whimper, eyes fluttering closed as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push your tongue in between his fingers and curl around them.
“Gonna suck my cock like this, jagi?” He purrs the question, ending it so breathy it’s almost a moan as he eases over the term of endearment. “Show me how much you miss me, hm?”
Maybe it’s the deep, sensual way he purrs jagi with heavy eyelids and that crooked smirk on his face. Maybe it’s because he bites his lip when he says it or that he lets his lip go with such slowness that you can see the way his teeth scrape across his plump bottom lip as it falls back into place. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s shoving his fingers just a bit deeper into your mouth. Maybe it’s all of these things that make you shift so that you can press your clothed pussy against Taehyung’s thigh.
He flexes the muscle as you start rutting against it, rolling your hips to the rhythm of his fingers gliding in and out of your mouth.
“Look at you.” His lips brush against the curve of your ear, sending a shiver down your back. “So desperate for me that you’re going to get off on only my thighs?”
You’re not the type to be able to orgasm just from rutting and friction like this, but Taehyung has managed to learn your body faster than you ever expected. He slips his free hand beneath the waistband of your leggings and underwear. It’s the quick circling of his thumb against your throbbing clit combined with the rutting of your hips that sends you over the edge.
“That’s it, baby, you did so well,” Taehyung whispers praise against the skin his lips have access to on your collarbones as you shudder in his lap. “Love seeing you cum, fuck, doing this shit over KakaoTalk fucking sucked.”
Taehyung finally removes his fingers from your mouth when you stop moving. Seeing the string of spit that connects his fingers to your lips makes you feel weak, but you’re riding the high of his praise and skillful fingers, so you don’t care.
He wipes your spit onto his sweatpants and gently holds your chin with his other hand. He gives you a soft smile and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. You can taste yourself when you flick your tongue over the trail his thumb left.
“I missed you so much,” he admits with a gentle kiss on your lips. “And not just because of this. I missed all of you, everything about you, just being with you.”
“I missed you, too.”
It’s meant to be a confirmation of your mutual love, but it comes out like a whine. You know Taehyung doesn’t mind from the way his eyes zero in on your tongue running along your bottom lip. You don’t have to say anything more for him to know what you want. He nods once and you’re almost immediately on your knees between his legs.
“Fuck.” He leans back in the chair and lifts his hips so you can tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Gonna be good for me, baby?”
You quickly nod your head, though you’re focused on gently taking Taehyung’s cock in your hand. Alex isn’t wrong. Taehyung’s dick is big, but that doesn’t mean you have to go around talking about it. That’s for you to know and for others to wonder about.
You had to sign an NDA before you were allowed to see it, anyway, but you’d keep your mouth shut even if no legal action would be taken against you for gossiping.
“Kiss it first.”
He tongues the inside of his cheek as he watches you. His eyelids droop lower when you plant a puckered, open-mouthed kiss on the head of his cock. You press the tip of your tongue against the slit to lick at the precum already leaking from him. The buck of his hips isn’t unexpected, but you feel like you need to remember how to do all of this after being away from him for so long. Not to mention how tired your jaw is about to be.
Taehyung seems to sense your hesitation because he allows his body to go slack beneath you. The hand that has reached down to dig into your scalp doesn’t let up, but he doesn’t push your head down like he normally would when you finally slide his cock down your throat.
He doesn’t buck his hips again, even when you drool so much that the inside of his thighs become just as wet as yours. You squeeze the base of his cock, twisting your wrist to the rhythm you’ve established when you can’t take all of him into your mouth.
You reach down to gently roll his balls with your free hand. His cock twitches against your flattened tongue and you hum with satisfaction.
“God, your fucking mouth–”
You make eye contact with Taehyung as your hand ventures lower. There’s nothing more beautiful than the way his face crumples with pleasure when you massage his perineum.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” he whines.
You ease up slightly but still suckle on the head of his cock for longer than Taehyung wants. Why not have a little fun? All you’ll end up doing is riling him up even more, and that can only be a good thing for you.
Taehyung digs his fingers into your hair and yanks you up. It stings, but the pain might as well be white-hot pleasure once Taehyung is praising you with a gravelly voice.
“You’re too fucking good at that.”
You don’t even like sucking dick, but you’d do it all day, every day if Taehyung asked you to. But since he made you stop, you have other priorities to take care of, like the fact that there are way too many layers of clothes separating you from your boyfriend. While you were on your knees for him, Taehyung removed his shirt. The white cotton is discarded on the floor beside the chair and his half-dry hair is tousled around his head in a messiness only he could successfully pull off.
After wiggling out of your leggings and underwear, you climb back onto Taehyung’s lap. His broad chest shudders beneath your touch as you run your hands down to meet his soft tummy. His responsiveness strokes the ego you didn’t realize you have.
“Y’know, you never gave me the chance to ask you how travel went.”
“Seriously?” He knows you’re teasing, but you like the mock-irritated tone of his voice. It makes his chest rumble.
You use your grip on him to stabilize yourself as you grind into his lap. You scrape your nails at the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. Taehyung moans into your mouth, low and throaty, when his cock glides through your wet folds as you roll your hips. He lets you pull his hair, head falling back to expose the smooth plane of his throat. Your lips leave his to latch onto his throat instead. The kisses you give him are slippery and biting and hot.
“No hickeys, Y/N.”
Taehyung’s scolding is deep and sharp; you both know he’s not fucking around. It’s a command he has had to throw your way more than once. The idea of marking him up is just so appetizing, but you know you can’t. Sure, makeup can make just about anything disappear, but it’s annoying to deal with and Taehyung isn’t particularly a fan of the side looks the makeup artists give each other when they see dark bruises littering his neck and collarbones.
Maybe you’ll give him just a tiny one and suffer the consequences later.
You cling onto him tighter when you feel two of his fingers slip inside of you. Spreading your thighs as wide as you can without throwing off your balance on the chair, you roll your hips into Taehyung’s hand to take his fingers deeper.
“Please,” you moan against his neck. You can smell your shampoo and body wash on him. Something about him smelling like you makes you feel overwhelmingly possessive. He’s yours. Kim Taehyung is yours.
He turns his head to the side to capture your lips with his own as he snakes his arm around your waist. The position allows him to pull you tightly against his chest. He holds you in place as he starts thrusting his fingers into your pussy just as he had thrust them into your mouth.
Taehyung grunts as he keeps his legs spread in the chair, which in turn forces your thighs open when you try to squeeze them closed around his hand.
“Stay still.”
“Can’t.” You shake your head and thread your fingers through his hair, tugging the strands harder.
It’s too much; Taehyung lights a fire against every inch of your body each time he touches you. If he was anyone else, you’d be singed, but Taehyung takes such good care of you. You’re not singed. You’re ignited.
“You have no fucking idea,” Taehyung takes a deep breath, “No fucking idea how badly I’ve been craving you.” He warms you up with each thrust of his fingers, adding a third until you’re clawing at his shoulders.
“So, ahh fuck, fuck me,” you gasp, your mouth hot against the corner of his jaw. Your teeth scrape against his skin and he merely lets his head fall back to give you more.
“No please?”
You bite his cheek in defiance and get a slap to the ass that only makes you want to bite him more.
“Don’t be mean to me,” you whimper.
Taehyung’s steady rhythm against your front wall has your orgasm burning so hotly in your core that you feel like you’re going to cum if he even so much as turns his head to look at you one more time.
Your thighs are already sore by the time Taehyung removes his fingers from your pussy. He uses your sticky arousal as lube to stroke his cock and you don’t want to think about how excited you are about this.
“Hurry up.”
Taehyung raises his eyebrows at you just as he grips the inside of your thigh with one hand. The other he uses to line his cock with your body. You can feel the head press against your entrance, and you try to push your body down to swallow him whole, but Taehyung holds you up to stop you.
“Impatient cockslut, aren’t you?” Taehyung chides.
His previously spacey look is sharpened by the sparkle of mirth in his eyes. Your body tenses when he spits the insult at you, and he knows it’s making your clit throb even harder.
“Tae.” You bite your lip because you’re close to begging at this point.
Luckily, you don’t have to. Taehyung presses down your hip and you quickly take the lead, easing yourself onto his cock until you’re fully seated on his firm thighs.
Your body burns from the stretch it has to make to accommodate him, but you knew it would. Even when you’re fully adjusted to him, there’s always a bit of a stretch. He also knows he has to let you ease into it to avoid slamming himself straight into your cervix. The first time it had happened, Taehyung genuinely thought he’d broken you. You kind of thought so, too, if you were going to be perfectly honest. The struggle of having a big-dicked boyfriend.
“Okay?” He’s watching you with those lustful, dark eyes.
“Mhm,” you hum because you’re afraid of the way your voice will quiver if you try to say real words.
You’re so full, it’s a bit overwhelming. Not just physically, but emotionally, too. You missed Taehyung a lot, but holding onto each other in such an intimate position is making you realize just how lonely you were without him.
“I’m gonna move, okay?”
He waits until you silently nod your head before he adjusts in the chair, scooting down slightly to spread his legs better. You allow him to adjust your legs, bending them at the knee and hooking them over the arms of the chair. With a tight grip on your ass, Taehyung pulls you down onto his cock at the same time he thrusts up into you.
The pace Taehyung sets is desperate, but you don’t care. Your second orgasm is approaching at an alarming speed. It feels like it’s taking all of your energy to simply stay grounded with reality as Taehyung squeezes you and your hips crash into each other. You don’t even try to do anything, just let him take over your body as he pounds into you. For the most part, you’re a pillow princess and you both know it. Besides, how can you possibly keep up with someone so athletic? Taehyung’s stamina is ridiculous. Neither of you has an overstimulation kink, but Taehyung’s ability to just go and go and go might as well have given you one. None of this has ever bothered Taehyung, though. He likes giving more than receiving.
“Oh fuck.” Taehyung nips at the base of your neck when you clench around his cock just to feel him shiver.
There aren’t any rules about him marking you up. The petty side of him likes when you wear the dark bruises in the open, with no makeup or clothing to hide them. It’s a satisfying game he likes to play. He likes that everyone knows you’re getting dicked down and, therefore, are taken.
You like the secret satisfaction of knowing it’s Kim Taehyung who gives you those marks, and no one even knows.
What you don’t like is thinking about all the other people Taehyung may have enjoyed giving marks to.
It’s hard not to let your mind wander. Taehyung has never talked to you about his previous relationships, and there’s no way for you to know about them if he doesn’t tell you. The media can’t be trusted to accurately report idols’ love lives; today has been a perfect example of that. You’re stuck with only your imagination to make up all kinds of scenarios. Maybe Taehyung has been with other k-pop idols, or models, or actresses - people with more money, who are prettier and more sophisticated than you. Hell, you’ve never even asked him about his sexuality. What if he really has been fucking Jungkook! What if they’re in love and you’re just something temporary?
“I was made for you, jagi. You know that?” Taehyung’s breath is hot against your skin. His words are gentle, but the power with which he thrusts up into you is bruising. “Made for you.”
It’s as if he can read your mind, as if he can somehow sense the insecurities threatening to pull you out of the moment. As always, Taehyung manages to bring you back to the present.
Fuck, sometimes you wish he wouldn’t do shit like this to you. You’re already pathetically in love with him. You can’t imagine what more could come next, yet you feel yourself practically bursting from the seams with love.
Your moans fall in line with the sound of the chair scraping the floor and your skin slapping against Taehyung’s with every thrust. When your mouth falls open, Taehyung presses his thumb against your tongue. With eyes fluttering closed, you suck on his thumb and try to hold on as your body rocks up and down.
“Fuck, fuck, oh, god, Taehyung.”
“Yeah, jagi?” Taehyung pulls down on the corner of your mouth until his thumb is dragging spit across your cheek. “Tell me.”
His voice is so soothing it makes you want to cry. It’s unfair.
“You feel so fucking—“
It’s the slick pressure of his thumb massaging your clit that finally has you arching your back with a scream of Taehyung’s name. You’re so loud that you worry your neighbors heard you. There are plenty of people named Taehyung in the world, though, right? He could be any Taehyung.
If you ask Taehyung later, he’ll probably say he can’t even remember his own name because of how tightly you clench around his cock when you cum. The feeling is so overwhelming that you think you might pass out from holding your breath. You gasp, inhaling more air than you exhale, but Taehyung keeps going. Every subsequent thrust knocks the air out of you until you have the opposite problem and now you can’t keep any air in.
“I’m gonna…”
“Go ahead, baby. Cum inside me.”
Taehyung whimpers into the crook of your neck as he cums, the suggestiveness of your permission not lost on either of you. You’re on birth control and Taehyung knows a kid would probably ruin his career. So it doesn’t actually mean anything when you tell him he can stay inside; you’re not getting pregnant any time soon. Still, he gets off on coming inside of you, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.
“I was going to make a joke that I should go on tour more often if that means I’ll cum that hard again, but I think I don’t want to go on tour ever again,” Taehyung admits with a shaky laugh.
Just the idea of Taehyung leaving you for months on end again makes your stomach twist. He brings so much life to everywhere he goes, and you felt like much of that life left you when he did. Even if it was only temporary.
Taehyung holds you until his cock is no longer twitching inside of you. Once his arms finally fall to his side, you try to untangle yourself from the chair as his body, but your limbs might as well belong to someone else.
“Help,” you squeak hoarsely. You feel like covering your face when Taehyung laughs.
Taehyung helps you out of his lap, though you both are so wobbly on your feet that you hold onto the edge of the kitchen table when you stand. Taehyung looks wrecked, and you feel wrecked. You’re not sure your knees will ever work properly again.
“Why are we still listening to Stray Kids?” Taehyung grumbles when he realizes the speakers are still playing in the background.
“It’s a good album.”
“We should be fucking to my songs.” Taehyung pauses for a moment, thinking.“‘Christmas Tree’ is a fuckable song, right?”
“You’re joking.”
Taehyung shakes his head and reaches for your phone. His face is programmed to unlock your phone, just like your face unlocks his phone. You don’t understand how he can stand butt naked in the kitchen, cum all over his thighs, and search for the jazz playlist he made on your Spotify account.
(“Jazz Hands, Y/N. It’s a vibe.”)
Once his playlist has replaced Stray Kids, Taehyung wraps you up in a giant bear hug that lifts you off your feet. The hug nearly knocks the air out of you.
“Can’t believe you made me dirty after I just showered.” You can’t see his pout, but you can hear it.
“You’re the one who started this.”
Taehyung scoffs. He starts walking down the hallway, practically dragging you in his arms as he goes. Your toes barely reach the ground, but you’re more content to let your body fall slack and make him do all the work.
He kicks open the bathroom door and sits you down on the counter.
“No, you did this. You looked at me with those pretty eyes and said, ‘Tae’.” He tries to mimic your voice by moaning his name. “I’m a weak, weak man. You influenced me. I just wanted you to eat.”
“Well, I did eat.”
Taehyung presses his lips together. “Don’t say it.”
“I’m gonna say it.” You lean forward on the edge of the counter, trying to get in Taehyung’s space, but he’s ignoring you as he prepares the shower.
“Y/N.”
“I ate…”
“Stop.”
“Deez nuts.”
Taehyung drags his hands down his face, leaving his skin red. His reaction makes you giggle.
“Technically you only played with deez nuts. Your mouth, sadly, did not ever come near my—” He tries to correct you, but you’re already throwing a scrunchie at his face.
“You’re ruining the joke!”
“It’s a bad joke!”
Maybe your sense of humor is way better than his, but as you suffer another Taehyung tickle attack, you can’t help but feel ridiculous for how you’d behaved earlier. How can he look at you with sparkling eyes and a boxy smile that makes him laugh with his teeth, hand coming up to cover his face when you give him your poutiest of pouts— how can you see such genuine kindness and think Taehyung would ever do anything to jeopardize what you have?
“Wassup motherfuckers!”
You raise your eyebrows at Namjoon and tap the end of your chewed pen against your computer screen. Biting pens isn’t sanitary or cute but you do it anyway. The man’s eyes aren’t on your pen cap, though. He’s staring a hole into the podcast you pulled up because you know he doesn’t want to look at you.
“Namjoon, why did you start the episode like that? This is not your Automatic Dick era,” you say with a deep sigh.
“Beoryeo.”
“Excuse me?”
“The song. It’s called ‘Throw Away’, not… Automatic… Dick…” His correction dies on his tongue when he sees the exasperated look on your face.
“That is not the point.” You shake your head and exit the website. You’re not in charge of PR. That’s someone else’s problem.
Your attention turns to the newest draft of the song you’ve been stressing out about since you arrived in Seoul.
“This, though? This is fucking beautiful.” You adjust your laptop on the coffee table so Namjoon can better view the document. The two of you are at the dorm, lounging in the living room.
There are a lot of highlighted lines and many comments throughout the document. You wish you were like the members who scribbled their lyrics in cute leather journals, but your brain is too much of a disaster and broken by technology. If you don’t have your laptop, you can't write lyrics for shit.
“How are you so eloquent in Korean, but in English, you’re so…” You wave your hands around like you’re rifling through the air for the rest of your sentence.
“Casual?”
“Yes.” Sure, we’ll go with that, Joonie.
“Well, that’s why I’ve got you!”
At least he thinks you’re eloquent. The boys probably think you’re spending all your time in your office easily pulling masterpieces out of your ass when in reality you’re Googling, “what's the word for when you can't remember a word?”
It’s lethologica, by the way.
You love Namjoon, but sometimes you think he has too much faith in you. Writing songs is hard. He of all people would know that. The difference between you and Namjoon is that when Namjoon struggles with writing he gets all emo, buys a bunch of weird furniture, and flies to another country to look at foreign art. When you struggle with writing, you just go home and play video games with Taehyung until you’re ready to try again.
You’re both practicing avoidance, but Namjoon’s method just looks a little more dramatic than yours. Despite his assumptions, that doesn’t mean you’re better at handling yourself. You just do things differently.
“We’re so lucky to have Jagi PD!”
Namjoon groans and covers his head with the hood of his hoodie as Jungkook flies into the living room.
Strong hands cup your armpits to lift you off of the couch. While Jungkook is crushing every bone in your body as he hugs you, all you can think about is how you were kind of a little bit sweaty, and now Jungkook has his hands all in your armpits.
“Jungkookie, don’t pick people up without their consent.”
Hobi enters the room behind the younger man and gives him a stern look which makes Jungkook immediately put you down on your feet.
“Sorry, Y/N,” Jungkook says with a pout and galaxies in his eyes. You give his shoulder a playful smack. His baggy black t-shirt sticks to his skin, and you’re less worried about being sweaty. Jungkook is soaked.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. I’m tough.” You flex your nonexistent muscles to make the precious maknae laugh his pout away.
“You should come train with us, Jagi.”
“Jungkook,” Namjoon exclaims from where he still sits on the couch.
He turns to his friend with wide eyes. “What?”
“Stop calling Y/N ‘jagi’. Taehyung is going to kill you.” This time Jimin pipes up.
You hadn’t realized he’d entered the room, too. The three newcomers are varying degrees of sweaty with pink cheeks and wearing workout clothes. You suppose they’ve just come back from working out or perhaps a dance practice. They’ve all been back from tour for a few weeks now, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Bangtan Boys it’s that they never fucking rest.
It’s exhausting just to think about it.
“It’s okay,” you say with a shrug. “I think ‘Jagi PD’ is pretty fucking funny, to be honest.”
The nickname Jungkook created for you is cute in your opinion. You are a music producer. Jagi PD is better than using your last name. It could be like your stage name. Maybe you can get Namjoon to credit you as Jagi PD under the songs you write. Using your first and last name seems lame when it’s paired with fun names like SUGA, RM, j-hope, and Slow Rabbit.
“Pretty fucking funny,” Jungkook repeats. He gives the other men a triumphant look before launching himself onto the couch with Jimin.
Hobi chooses to sit on the couch on the opposite side of the room with Namjoon. From the way Namjoon has nestled back into his seat, it’s clear that his song will have to wait. It’s for the best. You’re not thinking about music anymore.
You can’t blame Jungkook for interrupting your work, but the true source of distraction saunters into the room with his arms full of grocery bags.
“Hey, jagiya,” Taehyung greets you sweetly with a kiss on your forehead as he walks through the living room to get to the kitchen. The final two men, Jin and Yoongi, trail behind Taehyung with their own bags.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin give Jungkook a pointed look when Taehyung uses the term of endearment.
“What are you guys making?” Jungkook is curled up against the arm of the couch with his phone in hand. He’s holding it sideways which makes you think he’s probably playing In The Seom. The app is old news by this point, yet Jungkook’s attention is still consumed by it. It’s hilarious.
You wish you could meet the game developers. Whoever made Taehyung’s character look so fucking feral deserves a raise.
“You’re gonna cook?” You don’t hide your shock at the idea that Taehyung would be cooking anything, and that makes everyone laugh.
“I’m making dinner,” Yoongi clarifies. “And it’s a surprise, so stop paying attention to me.” He shoos Jin and Taehyung out of the kitchen.
Jin sits on the couch with Jimin and Jungkook, while Taehyung sits with you. The armchair really only seats one person comfortably, but you wiggle so Taehyung can sit half next to you and half under you. He arranges your legs to drape over his lap. It’s nice, being this close. You can snuggle into his side and let him wrap his arms around you without worrying about who can see or what people think. All the boys are supportive of your relationship with Taehyung. It’s a bit frustrating that there’s no way for you to fully express how appreciative you are.
“Well, what are we supposed to do?” From the couch in the living room, Jungkook shoots Yoongi a glare as if Yoongi’s request for some alone time while he cooks is a personal attack.
Yoongi snorts and turns his back on Jungkook to begin unloading the groceries. “I don’t know, talk to each other.”
“You guys are boring. I only want to talk to Y/N.” You’re not sure how you’ve become Jungkook’s favorite, but it’s exceptionally endearing.
“You’re not even going to pay attention,” Namjoon points out. “Always on that damn phone.”
He’s still got his hood up, and he looks like he was half-asleep. No one but you gets the joke, so Namjoon nods his head in your direction before returning to his slumped position.
“I like watching Jimin-ssi’s character spin around in little circles.”
“It’s cute, isn’t it?” Jin chimes in. “He looks so small.”
The glares Jimin shoots everyone in the room are terrifying. You think about something you’d heard someone say: the shorter the person, the closer to hell they are. Something dramatic that only a tall person would say.
“All the characters are the same size,” he exclaims. “And I don’t do that!”
“Yes, you do. There are fanmade compilation videos of you spinning around, Jimin-ssi! I’ve watched them,” Jungkook confesses with full confidence.
A small squeal sounds from the opposite side of the room. You turn to see Hobi practically bouncing on the couch.
“Please, can we watch some? I want to hear the cute sound effects.”
A pillow flies across the room, and Hobi just barely dodges it. Jimin crosses his arms firmly against his chest and scowls as Jin and Jungkook enthusiastically agree and Hobi snatches the TV remote before anyone else can.
“At least watch a video that isn’t about me doing something embarrassing,” Jimin breaks down enough to plead (not beg!) with Hobi. He eyes the room and his gaze falls on Taehyung. A small smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth and you feel Taehyung slowly exhale. “We should watch one about TaeTae.”
You try to cover your laughter with a cough, but Taehyung applies a light slap to your thigh in retaliation.
“Why me?” he pouts.
“Yes! Let me pick!”
“Jungkookie, no. It was my idea.” Hobi scrolls through his phone until his face lights up with glee. “I’ve watched this one before and it’s so cute, Y/N, you’re going to love it.”
“The suspense is killing me.” You wiggle your eyebrows at Taehyung. The rolled eyes you’re met with feel like a victory.
“Okay, it’s called, BTS struggling to understand ‘Tae-tae language’,” Hobi prefaces while the video loads on the TV.
Jin laughs at the loud snort you let out. “TaeTae language is hard to understand.”
“Maybe you guys aren’t creative enough to understand me,” Taehyung scoffs.
“Hey! I understand you!” Yoongi protests from the kitchen.
Taehyung looks like he might say more, but the video interrupts him. It starts with highlights from the comments section of previous videos. One comment mentions Namjoon being their bias.
“Is that weird? Like, to watch this kind of stuff and hear people talk about their biases?” If you were famous, you were absolutely positive that you’d never Google yourself. You would not want to know what kind of weird shit was out there about you, even something as seemingly innocent as silly compilation videos.
“I think it’s funny,” Jimin says with a smirk and half-moon eyes. “I’m everyone’s bias, anyway.”
“That’s not what TikTok says.” Jungkook turns his nose upward at Jimin, though his eyes never leave his phone. It’s a shame In The Seom didn’t allow him to drown Jimin in the ocean, or he totally would have done it by now.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just check how many videos there are under my hashtag.”
Jimin snorts with a roll of his eyes, seemingly dismissing Jungkook’s claims. But you see him twist on the couch so the younger man can’t see that Jimin pulls up TikTok on his phone. As if TikTok was the end all, be all. You want to tell them it’s impossible to know who’s the most “popular” or whatever, but you know that conversation is futile.
“Y/N, you were Army before you started dating Tae!” You can practically see the light bulb going off in Hobi’s brain. Or, rather, the Army bomb. “Who was your bias?”
Hobi’s question barely leaves his lips when the room grows quiet. Seven pairs of eyes stare at you expectantly, including your boyfriend’s. You keep your eyes on the TV, though you aren’t seeing the compilation video playing anymore.
“I don’t know. I didn’t have a bias. Y’know, OT7 and all that shit.”
Suddenly, the room erupts. Screeches of protests and arguments are shouted across the living room, the boys yelling on top of one another and slewing insults at each other.
“Oh come on, Y/N, tell us!” Hobi whines.
“Yeah, we wanna know! We won’t judge you.” Pulling this precious information out of you is so vital that Jungkook looks away from his phone long enough to give you a pouty face.
“It’s obviously me. I’m Worldwide Handsome.”
“Leave her alone, guys.” Taehyung shifts in his seat and adjusts how your legs drape over his lap. His large hands massage soft circles into your calf muscles. “This is so childish.”
“Right. A bias is just whoever a fan is partial to,” Namjoon says with a shrug. “What matters is that fans support us as seven.”
“No, a bias is the one the fan wants to fuck the most.” This time Jungkook doesn’t look up from his phone when he speaks.
Jin hums in agreement, winking in your direction and making Taehyung scowl.
“You’re just scared it’s not you, Tae.” For someone Taehyung calls his soulmate, Jimin seems to jump at every opportunity to fuck with his friend. He turns to you with those haunting siren eyes that lure in even God’s strongest soldiers. “Is he, Y/N? Is your bias Taehyung or someone else?”
“I thought Hobi’s question was, who was my bias? Not is.”
His siren eyes narrow at you. “Stop arguing semantics and answer the question.”
You can’t hold a staring contest with the now-paused Youtube video, and Jimin’s sudden snappiness makes you feel the need to look away. Right into the eyes of your answer, the only person who hasn’t spoken during the entire bias conversation.
Yoongi’s sharp eyes catch yours when you look away from the TV. Never one to miss a beat, he raises a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at you, the ghost of his classic Yoongi smirk barely lifting the corner of his mouth before the entire room erupts into shouting again.
“YOONGI?! REALLY?! OUT OF ALL OF US, YOU PICKED HIM?” Jimin jumps up from the couch, knocking pillows all over the floor.
“Watch it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi scolds the younger man for his informal language. Jimin only rolls his eyes.
“Damn, Jimin was right. You aren’t her bias, TaeTae.” Jin shakes his head with a solemn look. He gets up to leave the room, giving your boyfriend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he walks past. “I’m going to my room to play Mario Kart. This is too depressing for me.”
At the mention of video games, Jungkook perks up. “Wait Jin hyungie, I wanna play, too!” He tosses the last couch pillow in Jimin’s lap and scrambles to catch up with Jin halfway down the hall.
Yoongi wears a full-blown smirk now. You watch with wide eyes as his tongue slips out to drag across his bottom lip before he’s drawing his lip between his teeth. “Cute.”
“Fuck off,” Taehyung hisses at the older man, lifting your legs off his lap.
“Tae…” You reach out to grab his arm to stop him, but he’s already heading to his bedroom. The door slams shut so hard that the photos on the walls shudder.
You turn back around to glare at the remaining men. “Did you have your fun, hmm? Was it worth it?”
“I really… I didn’t think…” Hobi fumbles his words, clearly uncomfortable with the outbursts he’d unwittingly caused.
“If it doesn’t work out with Taehyung, call me, yeah?” Yoongi sends you a wink, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.
You feel your face heat up and you refuse to look at him. You wait until he goes back to preparing the food before you stand up. Without another word, you follow in Taehyung’s footsteps until you reach his door. It’s locked, but you expected as much.
“TaeTae,” you call softly. “Please let me in.”
You wait in silence long enough that you consider going home. If Taehyung doesn’t want to talk to you, you aren’t going to push him. Even if you think the reason for his outburst is stupid and that he’s acting like a child.
Eventually, the door is opened wide enough for you to slip inside. Taehyung doesn’t look at you when he shuts the door. Instead, he sits on his bed and leans his back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on his hands delicately folded together in his lap. His eyes are already red and slightly puffy. The sight is glass in your veins.
“Tae, please don’t be upset,” you start slowly. Climbing into his bed, you scoot until you’re lounging next to him. He doesn’t pull away when you rest your head on his shoulder.
“It’s embarrassing.”
You let out a small sigh, not because you’re frustrated with him but because you’d known watching fanmade videos would turn out to be a bad idea.
“If it makes you feel better, you were still in my bias line.” It’s probably not the best way to reassure your boyfriend, but it at least makes him look at you.
“Who else?” His eyes are narrowed.
“I don’t think I should answer that.”
Taehyung’s bottom lip droops and you feel your heart seize.
“Okay, okay!” Maybe holding his hand will make it better. “Jimin, but, no don’t give me that look! Just listen.”
Taehyung’s pout deepens, but he doesn’t interrupt you.
“It’s not like when I hang out with Jimin or Yoongi I’m thinking about those things, okay? It’s just a natural thing that happens. Anyone can be drawn to specific people in a group; the same thing happens with friendships. Like you and Jimin. It’s normal.”
Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced, but he laces his fingers through yours. You interpret the light squeeze he gives you as permission to continue talking.
“Yoongi is cool because I always saw him as this, like, mental health icon for me. He talks so much about mental health and fans see how he has grown and gotten healthier over the years. It’s inspiring, right? You’ve seen it firsthand.”
“That’s true,” Taehyung sniffles.
You nod your head. “Exactly, I respect him as a person and an artist. And with Jimin, I’ve always been almost jealous? of him. Because he can so beautifully balance both masculine and feminine qualities and aesthetics. He looks good no matter what and has learned to accept himself instead of forcing whatever weird masculinity shit y’all had when you debuted. That’s inspiring, too.”
Taehyung is silent for a while. You give him the space to process what you’ve said, and you hope that it’s enough to make him understand that a bias is not just about who you want to fuck. Jungkook is such a flirt; of course, that’s how he would interpret things.
“Why did you like me?” He finally looks at you. His eyes are a little pink from his tears, but his cheeks appear dry. The innocent curiosity in his expression tugs at your heart.
You reach up to run your fingers through his fluffy hair, combing out any tangles and gently massaging his scalp. This is probably how Taehyung feels when you worry about fans, paparazzi, and sasaengs.
“Well, you’re hot,” you say with a grin. You feel a bit lighter when Taehyung’s mouth curves slightly, too.
“Is that it?”
“Of course not.” You stick your tongue out. “You were my favorite in the vocal line. I loved how smooth your singing voice is, and how thoughtful you sound when you talk about how important the members and Army are to you. How could someone not love the inventor of I purple you?”
It feels weird to talk about how you liked Taehyung before you knew who he was. You never made your status as a fan obvious in the beginning. Professionalism is more important than fangirling. Even now, you only casually discuss your interest in the group before meeting them.
“Your sense of fashion made me laugh. You always seemed so happy, even though people like to focus a lot on how mean you can look. And I thought your relationships with Yoongi and Jimin were cute. You’re a great example of how men can and should be soft and loving.”
They’re all highly-simplified explanations for why Taehyung caught your eye in a group of seven, but they seem to put him at ease. He slides into the bed so he’s lying on his back under the covers. With his eyes locked on yours, he pats his chest.
“C’mere.”
You lie down under the covers next to him. It feels nice to rest your head on his chest and throw your leg over his waist. Ever since Taehyung came back from the tour, you’ve wanted to be attached at the hip. It’s not that you can’t handle being alone, but you don’t think it’s a bad thing to want to be with the people who bring you joy— especially when you live in a new country.
“You know I’m in love with you, not Yoongi or Jimin.”
“I know.”
“Do you actually?” You shift your head so you can look up at him.
Taehyung meets you halfway. You let your eyes close as he slots his lips with yours, allowing your body to melt into his. The desperation the two of you had for each other when Taehyung first returned to Seoul eventually died out. Now, you’re okay with taking things slow. You can savor the feeling of his body on yours, firm and warm beneath you. You can savor the smell of his cologne and his taste as you breathe him in and slip your tongue inside his mouth.
“I do,” he responds with a heavy exhale once you pull away. “I’m sorry I got upset. I just got so angry when hyung…” Taehyung scrunches his eyebrows and his nose scrunches along with them.
You massage his forehead and try to forcefully smooth the wrinkles there. “Yoongi is just being an ass. He loves you, too,” you point out.
Taehyung can’t argue that, so he leans down to kiss you again. You know how important physical contact is to him, especially when he’s upset. With that in mind, you slip your hands beneath his t-shirt. Splaying your hands flat against his chest feels nice. It’s a reminder that he’s real, and he’s here. He’s safe and healthy and yours.
“We both get pretty jealous, huh?”
Taehyung gives you a sheepish smile, all cheeks and pretty lips. You love his little lip freckle, but your favorite will always be the one under his eye.
“Not as bad as Jungkook, though.”
“Mhm, please don’t break up with me over a perilla leaf or anything.”
Taehyung giggles and you feel like you’ve got helium inside you. If you don’t hold onto him tightly enough, you might float away with how light and carefree being with him makes you.
“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he says as he nibbles your earlobe.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
His hands find the hem of your t-shirt, and you sit up to allow him to undress you. It’s a delicate process because Taehyung wants to take his time, too. It might seem like the two of you use sex to solve your problems, but you never see it like that. For you, letting Taehyung take his time breaking you down, just to build you back up again, is an act of emotional intimacy, just as it is physical. When Taehyung gets comfortable between your thighs, dark eyes locked with yours as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the hold he has on your wrists grounds you. And when he hovers over you with your legs wrapped around his hips as he thrusts into you, you whisper gentle praises against his throat to remind him that you are his and he is yours.
You spend the rest of the afternoon in Taehyung’s bed. It feels good to snuggle with him while he talks to you about all the jazz clubs he forced Jimin to go to during the little free time they had on tour. It seems the tension in the house fades because the rest of the boys are loud and energetic; it’s impossible to tune them out when their laughter bleeds into the room despite the door being closed.
“Do you think Taehyung and Y/N are done having make-up sex?”
“It’s pretty quiet in there. Maybe they fell asleep.”
You groan and bury your face in Taehyung’s side. It’s almost as if Jungkook and Jin are purposefully talking outside of his bedroom to make sure you can hear them. Knowing them, it’s not a far-fetched idea.
“Probably tired themselves out. The screaming was really—”
“JUNGKOOK!” Taehyung sits up so abruptly that you fall back onto the bed. “SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
Jin and Jungkook’s laughter eventually fades down the hallway, but Taehyung gets out of bed anyway.
“Yoongi is probably almost done with dinner,” he grumbles. You watch him zip up his jeans and admire how tall and lanky he is. Sorry to Yoongi and Jimin.
He manages to get his arms caught in his t-shirt somehow, so you begrudgingly get out of bed to help. You tease him endlessly because obviously fucking you is so good that he doesn’t know how to use his limbs anymore.
Your teasing is nothing compared to the way the other boys drag you the moment you step out of Taehyung’s bedroom.
“You okay, Y/N? Sounded like you might be dying,” Jimin grins as he prepares the kitchen table for dinner.
Jin snickers, throwing out his own commentary. “Taehyung, you got it pretty good even though you aren’t her bias, huh.”
Before Taehyung has a chance to bite anyone’s head off, you chime in.
“Yeah, yeah, Yoongi was my bias when I was a fan,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You can practically see Jungkook registering that you said “was a fan”, and that makes him pout. As if you aren’t still a fan. What a baby, just like Taehyung.
Yoongi snorts as he retrieves a dish from the oven. “I cannot fathom why.”
“Me either,” Jimin agrees with a giggle. He’s completely unfazed by the dark look Yoongi shoots him.
You join in on Jimin’s laughter, and you’re pleased to see that Taehyung is smiling too. The whole thing is so ridiculous. Maybe you’re feeling a bit too comfortable because you start oversharing.
“And I was a Yoonmin shipper, I’m not gonna lie.” You’re laughing so hard that you don’t realize neither Jimin nor Taehyung are laughing anymore. After a few seconds pass, though, your smile slowly falls. Jimin’s face has turned bright pink and Yoongi has his back to the table.
“It was one time, okay?” Jimin’s eyes burn holes into Yoongi’s shoulder blades from across the room. “Okay, two times.”
The older man doesn’t comment.
You nudge Taehyung’s leg with your foot under the kitchen table. He presses his lips together as hard as he can, but the smile just gets pushed into his cheeks. A rush of air explodes from his lips in a loud raspberry, and that’s what triggers your laughter again.
“Oh my god, I really wish I was surprised but I’m not,” you confess with a wheeze.
You’ve clearly touched on a sensitive topic. Jimin blabbers away about how it’s not that big of a deal, all while Yoongi silently finishes arranging the dishes on the table. It would feel uncomfortable, but Jimin’s flushed face and the tiniest of smiles curving Yoongi’s lips make you think it meant a lot more than what Jimin wishes to admit.
And that’s really fucking cute.
As the rest of the boys come piling into the kitchen, Taehyung scoots his chair until yours are touching. You bump shoulders and tilt your face up so he can press a kiss against your jaw.
“I love you,” he whispers. “With all my heart."
“I love you, too.” You lace your fingers with his and let your hands rest against his thigh. “You dork.”
The kitchen is chaos, but all you can focus on is the boxy smile Taehyung gifts you.
all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3
do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work
@bts-ruu @chuberella23 @guks-lip-piercing @sailoryooons @hvnnibvni @jinsquishes @jjkeverlast @klitklittredge @koobsessed @moonchild1 @moonleeai @nonbinary-demonbrat @parkdatjimin @reliablemitten @saweetspoiled @sugarwithtea @swga-ficrecs @taegiblr @yoongukie-ff
(and i'm tagging y'all cuz ik you were excited for this) @norushtolive @btscontentenjoyer
#taehyung x reader#bts fanfic#bts x reader#taehyung fanfic#taehyung angst#taehyung smut#taehyung fluff#bts angst#bts fluff#bts smut#jai writes#gimmethatagustd#wyb
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WORLDSTAR MONEY. l.hs
IN WHICH heeseung, a well known rock band member, was unable to get a tattoo due to conflict between the concert date and his appointment so he decides to find another tattoo artist available for the day.
🧨 ׅ ۟ 兼 INFO ֹ 🗯 ֹ ۪ ❗
﹙ 𝟷𝟷:𝟷𝟷 ﹚heeseung x fem!reader
﹙ 𝟷𝟷:𝟷𝟷 ﹚including: enhypen's jay, jake and sunghoon. tbz' juyeon. aespa's giselle. le sserafim's yunjin is sometimes being used as a face claim for y/n
﹙ 𝟷𝟷:𝟷𝟷 ﹚band member!heeseung, tattoo artist!reader, kinda enemies to lovers, social media au, smau, sugestive but no smut, not minors friendly tho sorry :/
🧨 ׅ ۟ 兼 DISCLAIMERֹ 🗯 ֹ ۪ ❗
includes a lot of kms/kys jokes and a lot of talking about drugs and other illegal substances.
🧨 ׅ ۟ 兼 MASTERLISTֹ 🗯 ֹ ۪ ❗
00. profiles 1 // profiles 2
01. Seoul where da 🎨💉 at???
02. you're a fake army... ON GOD!
03. daddy's bout to kill himself...
04. stfu virgin mary 👎
05. i'd rather be homeless than hoeless
06. relax bob the builder
07. ur my boyfriend in law
08. let daddy handle this for u
09. it's getting weird... stop it.
10. drunk words are sober thoughts
11. not ur first time being weird
12. there is something i can't do
13. university of rizzward
#heeseung x reader#enhypen jay#jake sim#lee heeseung#park jongseong#enhypen comeback#enha#heeseung smau#jay smau#jake smau#sunghoon#sunghoon smut#jake enhypen#enha heeseung#jake enha#sunghoon enha#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#jay enha#jay enhypen#sunghoon enhypen#enhypen#heeseung#jay x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon smau#jay smut#jake smut#heeseung smut#heeseung x you
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[9:12 a.m.]
gif creds: @jaeyxns
PAIRING ▸ husband!jay park x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ fluff, domestic love, husband!au, parents!au, a snippet of what i think jay's life would look like in like 15 years
WARNINGS ▸ mentions of (past/others') pregnancy, uhh i think that's it
WORD COUNT ▸ 1k words
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ nothing super big but i was writing something else and then suddenly i was writing husband!jay. not sure either <3
"good morning, my love," your husband says from behind you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as he goes about fixing himself a mug of coffee.
"good morning, jay," you say with a smile, flipping the omelette in the pan to ensure both sides were well done before then flipping it into the plate next to the stove.
"when did you get home last night? ria, danny, and i missed you," jay says, taking a seat at the barstool at the counter so that he could be in the same space as you.
you turn to him, only to see him already staring at you as though you had hung the sun itself in the sky. you smile, sliding the plate over so that he could start eating before your rowdy children could come and fight their father for breakfast.
"i think around midnight. i'm sorry i had to miss barbie night," you say with a pout, focused on cracking the next egg in the pan carefully.
"oh don't worry about it. is your friend alright?" jay asks, getting out of his seat to grab the bottle of ketchup from the fridge. you nod absentmindedly, mentally trying to track the number of eggs you needed to feed your hungry little monsters (who were still sound asleep) and yourself and jay.
"yeah. in fact, it turns out that she's pregnant!" you exclaim, and jay can't help but smile at the excitement in your voice. "it would explain the sudden flu-like symptoms."
jay offers you a bite of his omelette as you rush around the kitchen. you accept it happily, giving him a thumbs up as you hurry to flip the next omelette.
"i had a feeling from a couple of weeks ago, honestly. i just didn't want to say anything in case it wasn't something that her and her boyfriend wanted," you explain and jay nods in agreement.
"especially since he's in the army. it's a tough decision. i mean we were married for two years before we even thought of danny," jay says and you smile, nostalgia filling the air.
"do you ever miss that? the honeymoon phases and all of the romantic stuff that we used to do before the kids?" you ask, strangely nervous about jay's answer.
jay ponders for a moment before shaking his head no, finishing off the last of his omelette cleanly.
"no. i mean our life might be a lot less 'romantic' and a lot more chaotic because of ria and danny but there's no place i'd rather be than with my kids and my beautiful, smart, and amazing wife," jay says, getting up to accept the next omelette. he sets down his now refilled plate, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking the two of you side to side.
"i know. honestly, our teenage years were nice. what, with the sneaking out of the house and the awkward prom pictures and everything but this is perfect. barbie nights and spending time with my perfect husband and my little angels?" you sigh, contended, as jay hums and rests his chin on your shoulder.
"keep saying things like that and we're going to have to add to the list of angels running around the house," jay says, his voice deep and full of promise. you clear your throat, a sudden heat rushing up your spine, about to somehow refute his statement when you hear the telltale signs of little feet padding down the stairs and you just barely manage to push jay off of you in time for danny and ria to come down the stairs.
"mama! dad! i'm hungry! i already brushed my teeth! ria didn't so she's stinky stinky but my teeth are sparkly," danny says, rushing up to jay to show off his pearly white teeth.
ria whines in protest, clamoring with all of her five year old might to show her father her clean teeth as well. "daddy, dandan's lying! i brushed my teeth! even all the way in the back!"
"baby, i believe you but remember what i told you? that dandan's gotta watch you brush your teeth just to make sure you're doing it right?" jay says gently, lifting his daughter up to press a kiss to her cheek, laughing when his nine year old son pouts and rushes to your side instead.
"mama, why doesn't dad say 'good job' even though i brushed my teeth?" danny says, fisting your skirt with a heartbroken tone that tugs at your heartstrings and you turn around to fix jay with a glare.
"dandan, good job buddy! i'm so proud of you! in fact, i'm so proud of you that i want you to have the first omelette," jay says, conceding his omelette to danny and ruffling his hair.
your son is easily appeased by the affections of his father and takes his seat at the counter to eat happily and jay gives you a coy wink before pressing another kiss to your forehead.
"let me take my princess to brush her teeth - again," jay adds on at the end when he sees the protest bubbling up in ria's eyes. "you make sure my buddy gets to eat as many omelettes as he wants, okay?"
"daddy! be nice to mommy! you have to say please!" ria scolds jay, pointing her little finger in her father's face.
"yeah! dad, remember a gentleman always says please and thank you to his lady," danny says with a mouthful of omelette and you abandon your post to scoop up your son in a loving embrace.
"oh my god, he's growing up! you used to teach him how to read and now he's telling you how to be a gentleman; soon enough, he'll be telling that to his own kids," you cry out and jay rolls his eyes playfully.
"oh ew! mama, no thanks," danny says, crinkling his nose and making such a funny expression that you and jay can't help but laughing, causing danny and ria to laugh as well.
and your heart is so full. so full because this isn't just today's antics but the beautiful reality you get to experience for the rest of your life.
everything is perfect.
#jnnul#enhypen#enhypen soft hours#jay soft hours#jay soft thoughts#enhypen imagines#jay imagines#jay park#jay park fluff#jay park x reader#enhypen x reader
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criminal (tiffany x f!reader)
a tiffany au, chapter story.
⤷ synopsis: tiffany is the leader of a criminal society known as the syndicated. she meets you through her father who wants her to marry you as a way to grow army of the syndicated. it all starts to spiral out of control until tiffany and you begin to develop feelings for each other. tiffany being unable to love/be loved, doesn’t know what this new emotion is, you help her figure it out. however, an unknown society begins to invade any possibility of happiness entering the two societies and tries to take revenge from the past. a past two guys tried to put behind. but can you two truly defeat whatever unknown society has started to take over the world?
⤷ characters:
switch!f!reader - co-leader of the jaded morningstars
switch!tiffany - leader of the syndicated seraphs
jung ho-seok - father of tiffany
kim namjoon - father of the reader
IU - mother of tiffany
han sohee - mother of the reader
kim chaewon - sister of the reader
rosé - right hand woman of the reader/older sister
bang chan - left hand man of the reader
huh yunjin - right hand woman of tiffany
min yoongi - left hand man of tiffany/older brother
newjeans - the reader’s younger sisters
dreamcatcher - the reader’s cousins (special appearances)
aespa - tiffany’s younger sisters
itzy - tiffany’s cousins (special appearances)
the serpents/vampires
the dearils/shapeshifters
lilith’s messengers/demons
hades’ pigeons/phoenixes
+ more guest appearances/special appearances.
⤷ warnings: violence, sexual themes, suggestive language, cursing, mature themes, gore, mentions of traumatic experiences, fluffy, slightly angsty, supernatural characters/places, themes of paranormal activity, greek mythology, dark.
⤷ themes/tropes of the story: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, cults, dystopian societies, cyberpunk, paranormal, supernatural themes, mentions of greek gods/goddesses, mentions of demons/vampires/evil seraphs/phoenixes/shapeshifters.
⤷ songs:
s-class by stray kids, venom by stray kids, freeze by stray kids, charmer by stray kids, etc.
cyberpunk by ateez
end of the night by jay park
love killa by monsta x, got me in chains by monsta x, rotate by monsta x, etc.
dive by jooyoung
bother me by chungha
mirotic by tvxq, everyday it rains by tvxq, wrong number by tvxq, etc.
trauma by sf9
love on the floor by nct 127
criminal by taemin, move by taemin, artistic groove by taemin, heart stop by taemin & seulgi, eclipse by taemin + a lot of songs by taemin.
bite me by enhypen
eve, psyche & the bluebeard’s wife by lesserafim
sinphony by kim wooseok, shame by kim wooseok, red moon by kim wooseok, etc.
miss right by bts, dimple by bts, coffee by bts, rain by bts, 21st century girl by bts, etc.
h2o by lay
⤷ a chapter series.
⤷ chapter 1: the unknown society.
#kpop smut#kpop x reader#snsd tiffany#snsd#snsd smut#wlw smut#tiffany#bts au fic#kim namjoon#min yoongi#bang chan#bp rosé#aespa kpop#itzy kpop#newjeans kpop#kpop lesserafim#huh yunjin#iu kpop#han sohee#female reader#kim chaewon#lesserafim chaewon#lesserafim yunjin#bts namjoon#bts yoongi#dreamcatcher#kpop dreamcatcher#ateez#taemin#bts kpop
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The reference sheet for my Eddsworld Red Apocalypse Persona 😼
I love this AU so much what the actual fuck what happened how did I get sucked into this it's got me in a chokehold hELP
Info Dump about my bbg under the cut blink blink
Jay started off as a soldier for the Anti-Red Army, and he was rather loyal to it, rarely ever questioning the intentions of his superiors and just working his way up the ranks, not really caring about what he had to do to do that
Eventually, however, the higher up he go the more,,, rumors,, he'd inevitably hear about his fearless leader and what he's really doing
At first she didn't think much of it, just brushing it off as insubordination or whateva, but eventually she starts looking into - out of morbid curiosity, surely, and suffice to say he didn't exactly like what he had found there
She confided in someone she thought she could trust about it, they weren't particularly close but she thought that they wouldn't be the type to open their mouth - turns out they were, and they flapped their gums all the way up to the big man himself
Turns out Fredrik did not like people talking shit about him
Shortly after that, Jay found themself being called in late for some "extra help" in Thatcher's laboratory, which quickly turned into a less than pleasant experience for them
Though they managed to survive the experimentations, not without some serious repercussions - their body had to effectively remold itself once a knew genome was spliced into their normal, and frankly they shouldn't be alive but they were, and they were determined to keep it that way
Their body hurt, it ached and was sore with every breath they took, and they were covered in their own blood but they managed out of the army's immediate range if they were to look for them
To be a little self indulgent and cringe 2016 he was found by the Eddsworld Crew and helped him get back on his feet
Not without of course keeping him in a pseudo-prison of sorts - no normal person looks like that and naturally they suspect foul play afoot
But all seems fine as Jay explains himself and how exactly he got into this situation - there's still suspicion of him, I mean c'mon the guy just admitted to being an A-RA soldier, no doy, but in an attempt to bridge this gap he did end up spilling his guts about what exactly Fredrik was planning - or at least, as much as he could recall, as a peace offering of sorts
Fredrik has yet to seriously search for Jay, he most has a passive warrant out on him that surely won't end at demotion and dishonorable discharge
It's definitely suspicious that he hasn't, seeing as Jay is an escaped experiment, but hey, that's just a theory :3c
Sigh,,, I miss MatPat
#AHHHHH I LOVE THIS AU SMMMMMM#eddsworld#ew#eddsworld au#eddsworld red apocalypse#ew au#red apocalypse jay#jay#persona#self insert#red apocalypse oc#reference sheet#jay draw#art#digital art#fanart
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Of Honeysuckle and Haiku [Tech x Fem!Reader]
Warnings and Information: This is my submission for an event hosted by the wonderful @cloneficgiftexchange, written for @apocalyp-tech-a. I hope you enjoy my first Tech x Reader!
2nd Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader who works as an analyst/researcher for the GAR. Minor AU changes (no missing and/or dead Clones here (but Echo is still part of CF99)!). Prompt sentence/s will be orange to keep in line with the color scheme of the graphics. Tech has a “secret” crush on Reader that she knows about. Flirting is stored in the info-dumping/poetry. Star Wars and real-world swearing is as naughty as it gets. Some Mando’a. Brief references and allusions to injury and other canon-typical violence, and a small flashback where Reader’s senior colleagues are (implied to be) behaving like jerks to Tech, but nothing explicit. Use of stylistic and narrative italics. Fictional flowers.
Prompt: Can't we ever go to a nice place? | Oh, that's what that button does.
Word-count: 8,270
Another Primeday, another pile of notes in your locker.
That's how the weeks always started.
You worked closely with the Grand Army of the Republic as something of an analyst and unofficial bookkeeper, going on for two years now. Colleagues and work-friends would slip scraps of flimsiplast in the ventilation grooves of your locker as a way of non-electronic communication.
The old fashioned way, older department heads joked.
The flimsi stacks contained a mishmash of written comms. Inside jokes. Recipe trades. Reminders to get CT-6922’s helmet serviced for the video feed you needed for Jais in the Reverse-Engineering Department if they're ever going to find out how that new Separatist spider droid worked.
And a poem, written in spidery Aurebesh lettering from your “secret admirer”. Always the top of the pile that collected at the bottom of your locker.
You knew full well who it was after a while, piecing together all the clues he'd strung along for you. Game recognizes game, as they say. It took cracking a complicated cipher in order to-
Nah, who are you kidding?
You got impatient and asked Jais in R.E.D. to help you with scrubbing the security footage for the last person to stop by your locker one morning, finding a haiku waiting for you. A haiku regarding subject matter you had just been discussing with a colleague the other day who had a grueling day of carefully dissecting a Flame Beetle from Kashyyyk ahead of them, and you were slated to assist them.
The shimmering shell
That conceals a beetle’s wing
Is called elytra
- I wish I was a beetle
Mild alarm that someone was messing with you turned to curiosity soon after; it had been Tech of Clone Force 99 who dropped the poem into your locker some weeks ago.
He'd been helping the analysts while he got his leg in working order, having broken both the tibia and fibula of his left leg in a skirmish. (That's about as much as you knew at the time.) Tech would be returning to fieldwork sooner than later; between check-ups and some physical therapy work, the genius and navigator of CF99 kept himself busy here, so he would still feel useful to the GAR while recovering.
Of all the analysts Tech assisted, you seemed to be his favorite given that you actually liked letting him help you, and didn't saddle him with a dull day of deskwork like some of the senior analysts who wanted him out of their hair.
You felt it was incredibly unfair to Tech, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. You'd tried.
Instead of reading this week's new stack of flimsi notes from your weekend off at your locker, you decide you'll read them at your desk for a change. The smell of Tech’s typical caf blend is particularly inviting this morning. It’s been raining since last week, this morning the hardest yet. Thank the Maker you had a rain repeller in proper working order for the walk to the research center from the speeder cabs.
“Good morning, Tech.”
Sitting down, from around the other side of the desk, you can see he's in a walking boot now. An improvement from when you last saw him just two short days ago.
“Hey, that's a good sign! Think you'll be back with the rest of the Bad Batch soon?”
You take no offense when his eyes do not lift from the screen of his datapad. “Good morning. I suppose, yes…” He doesn't sound entirely enthusiastic like one might've expected, but you have enough of a grasp on his mannerisms by now to know that Tech is eager to return to his brothers in due time.
You've met the rest of his squad on a handful of occasions as they've come to check on him, making sure he's not missing all the action by keeping him up to speed on their exploits.
Smiling, you slide a cup of caf you believe to be Tech’s closer to him as you leaf through the notes from your locker.
“Don't let your caf get cold.”
The datapad drops away. “That is for you,” he explains, “if you desire to try it, that is. I recalled you expressing interest in the last blend of caf I brought in, saying that it smelled good last Taungsday.”
You blink, surprised he remembered those details. Well, not that surprised; you understood Tech had a remarkable memory that allowed him to recall obscure details. It’s saved you from a few headaches, like that same Taungsday when a visiting representative from Glee Anslem insisted upon having the innocuous bouquet of Nabooian Honeysuckles sent off for allergen testing. Whatever it was that provoked the Nautolan’s (thankfully minor) allergic reaction, it was not the flowers, though they were refused return.
Shame… the delicate white, orange and cream blossoms were such a thoughtful gift from Senator Amidala to the visiting representative and now they look so out of place on your desk, still in the elaborate ceramic vase they came in. You’re going to need to find a way to return it to Ms. Amidala once the flowers have shriveled and lost all their silky petals.
Thanking Tech for the thoughtfulness behind brewing you a cup of caf, you give it a careful taste and find the flavor far more robust than the instant mix the breakroom keeps on hand while you read the first of the notes. (Looked to be a heads-up that a commando had some grisly footage to be analyzed because Trandoshan pirates were involved and the credits were on Delta Squad being responsible.)
“Mmm… That’s nice. Thank you again, Tech.”
“You are welcome.” he replies, half-ducking his head back down into the datapad, though his eyes remain on you.
Framed by the yellow lenses of the black-strapped goggles he wears, there is an observative nature to those brown eyes. The phenotypic eye color for all Clones is brown, he explained to you once. Though yes, there were a few aberrations in physical traits among his brothers in the GAR, just not quite to the same scale as the experimental squadron that Echo from the 501st Legion (once thought to be dead) joined not long ago. Echo still keeps in contact with the 501st, Captain Rex and a brother named Fives the closest of all. You figure what he must have been reading off his tablet before he came in this morning were more messages from his brothers.
Setting aside notes as you read them, you’re careful to keep the scrap of poetry for last as always. Wonder what it’ll be today. A sonnet? Free-verse? Acrostic or maybe a limerick? Another haiku? Tech seemed to love leaving you haikus most of all.
Still finding his eyes upon you, you lay aside the last note about keeping an eye out for a missing label-maker and delicately clear your throat. “Yes, Tech?” You’re careful to offer him a friendly smile, a quiet measure of assurance that you’re not annoyed or disturbed by his watchfulness.
“Senator Amidala sent a letter of apology to the center regarding the honeysuckles and vase,” he begins, explaining the letter was forwarded to everyone who worked in the analysis department, “and since she feels terrible about the situation inadvertently caused for both her guest and the center, she suggested someone is welcome to keep both, if they wish.”
“Well that’s very kind of the senator.” you reply, giving the flowers on your desk a look of consideration, one that prompts a strange expression out of the genius you generously share your desk with.
You ask what the matter is with another swig of caf.
“I hope you don’t mind too terribly that I… accepted on your behalf.” Tech confesses, aware he’s more than likely crossed a line by doing so. You and Tech do not know each other all that well, but he’s strung together enough clues to have some idea of what you like. He’s noticed what you give the most attention to, and you had secretly been admiring the Nabooian bouquet for some time on Taungsday…
Cautiously, Tech adds, “You could always give them to a friend.”
Casting a third glance over the tri-colored flowers, Tech is assured that won’t be necessary, and he’d been correct in his assessment all along. “I don’t mind at all; thanks for saving me the trouble. I was secretly hoping to take these home, I’ve been obsessed with Naboo for a while now…” you admit, dropping your voice into a near-conspiratorial whisper.
There was an often sunny windowsill back home with plenty of space for the vase and flowers that would make for the perfect spot to show both off. Maybe it’d inspire you to finally take that trip to Naboo you always wanted. Naboo sounded like a nice place, nestled in the Chrommell system of the Outer Rim Territories.
Idyllic, picturesque, it was often described.
All this analyst-work had you in a position to see the glorious, the gory, and everything in-between in the adventures of the Grand Army day in and day out. Compiling reports near and far was beginning to instill a sense of longing for adventure in you; nothing grand was necessary, just something different. Something beyond the walls of the GAR research center here among the Core Worlds.
I’ll be satisfied with a taste of adventure. Just one bite. Just one, I promise.
The yellow-lensed goggles are adjusted. “What fascinates you so much about Naboo?” Tech asks, curiosity burning at him.
“Oh… I dunno,” you say with a shrug, smiling, “it’s hard to put it all into words.” And you wouldn’t exactly have the time, either, with your shift due to start soon. While you’ve still got the time, you should finish as much of the caf as you can before it grows cold, and finally get around to this new poem Tech’s left for you. Maybe he can already guess that you know these are from him, but a part of you finds it fun in some way to pretend you don’t.
Fixing an errant strand of hair back in place, you unfold the note and read. Another haiku, today, lamenting the dreary weather.
To simpler splendors
Like summer's gentle breezes
and honey most sweet
- When will the rain stop?
You find it curious and strange - this possible complaint - given you know Clones come from the storm-cloaked world of Kamino. Surely this weather feels just like home for him; familiar, maybe even comforting. But maybe it’s not his complaint, it could have been your own off-handed remark from some time ago that he’s echoing back to you now.
Tech’s level of observation was truly incredible, sometimes. You already felt yourself missing his knowledgeable presence once he was healed up and returned to the Bad Batch. That wouldn’t happen until he was rid of the walking boot and cleared for active duty, which was mildly comforting to you, selfishly speaking. Logically you know this arrangement is temporary, and you will not always have your willing assistant.
A willing assistant who has given his attention to closing off communications with Wrecker, from the sound of things as CF99’s genius reads the messages under his breath. Tech is trying very hard to appear like he’s not taken notice that you’ve read his latest haiku.
You set the poetry aside along with the other locker notes, and pick up your clipboard full of the day’s tasks. “Take your time, Tech.” you promise, chuckling warmly as he flashes the famous pointer finger in your direction, requesting just an extra moment. “I know Wrecker misses having his big brother around.”
Tech says nothing in response to your teasing quip, only offering an appreciative if distracted smile before he’s ready to help you with your tasks for the day.
On Primedays, the first item of business on the list is often the most nerve-wracking of all your assignments, today no exception.
“Dammit, I grabbed the wrong screwdriver… Would you mind handing me the… the, uh…?” Tech takes the incorrect screwdriver from your fingers and replaces it with what you need while you struggle to think of the name for the correct type, much to your relief. “Oh, thank you Tech. Will you need this back when I’m done?”
Tech nods, a silent promise it was no trouble. “I will not. I’m finished with what I needed it for. Feel free to use it as long as you need.” He does not need to remind you to go slowly.
Your first research assignment of the morning involves dismantled bombs, and the additional Clone tucked in one corner of the room clad in the bright orange of ordnance specialists serves as an eye-catching distraction rather than a precautionary measure. Nicknamed Reddy, this Clone trooper is only doing his job, of course; he’s supposed to be here as part of the protocol. This facility has gone one thousand and twenty-seven days without an explosive incident, which is a comforting number, but there is no room for complacency. In the unlikely event a bomb somehow reactivates, Red Wire is here to snuff it out for good.
(Or tell everyone to evacuate and seek shelter if he somehow can’t.)
Helmet clipped to his utility belt, Reddy is reading the printed report, bobbing his head in time to some jaunty tune he’s got stuck in his head. “Disarmed and partially dismantled by… CT-9903. That’s your squadmate Wrecker, right?”
“Correct.” Tech replies tersely, hoping not to prove himself distracting to you. He’s only standing as close as he is to give or take tools as you need them.
Reddy nods his head in approval of the work scattered over the examination table. “He did a good job. Definitely has the gentle touch needed for bomb disposal.” Yes… Wrecker certainly had steadier nerves than yourself right now. You would prefer not to have shaking hands, no matter how incapable this bomb is… should be… of going off.
“Reddy…”
He catches the warning. “Sorry, ma’am.”
You just need to pull off a particular durasteel plate, and take detailed pictures of a unique section of wiring to enter it into the GAR database of known bomb constructs and find close or exact matches. Then Reddy has the pleasure of disposing of the remnants for you. Fewer distractions while you remove notoriously fiddly screws, the better.
So why are your hands still shaking now that you should be able to focus again?
“... dammit…” You’ve worked yourself up about the unsteady nature of your hands now. Stress will only worsen it, prolonging the tremble. Setting the screwdriver aside is the best course of action until you can find your nerve.
Rational thoughts, you remind yourself, everyone has had this happen to them at one time or another.
“May I?” Tech offers, voice softer than you ever remember it being before now.
He is careful in offering to help without immediately trying to take over your work. Tech recognizes you are capable in all the various aspects of your job, and he does not wish to undermine or blow off your expertise. He understands from experience how that can be frustrating, even disrespectful.
And Tech aims to be very respectful of you. He's been very careful in how he's hinted his interest in you thus far. (Maybe too careful.) The haikus in your locker had been because he heard you liked poetry, and he proactively accepted the honeysuckles Senator Amidala offered for the trouble because he thought you might like them. Sharing his favorite blend of caf was a decision more premeditated than the other two.
You step to the side, accepting the offer.
“Thank you, Tech...” you say, gesturing to the tools in an unspoken measure of please, by all means. Tech takes position where you previously stood, and begins to work on the dismantled explosive. Long, dexterous fingers make the process of loosening and extracting the remaining screws look deceptively easy.
“You’ll want your datapad soon,” Tech suggests helpfully, soon down to just two more corner screws to remove.
“Oh, yes…!”
Scooping the tablet off of the examination table, you habitually skip your fingers across the reactive transparisteel and pull up the camera function, priming everything to capture the colorful chaos of wiring and circuitry inside once Tech has removed the panel. Once it is lifted out of the way, Tech side-steps to allow you in front of the bomb once more so that you can capture records for the GAR database.
However, the camera will not focus.
“Strange…” You tap the center of the screen, hoping perhaps the datapad will behave like your modern comlink and auto-focus, but it does not give you the result you hoped for. You chuckle somewhat bashfully. “Sorry, it’s… been a while since I’ve used this old datapad for taking pictures.”
“Press the red, center button on the top row twice.”
Taking the advice of the bespectacled Clone beside you, the image on the screen comes into crisp focus, not a detail lost. “Oh, that’s what that button does.” This tablet is an older generation, but the facility keeps it because it's sturdy and reliable. No sense in replacing perfectly good technology so long as it continues to work.
“Been using these tablets for ages and I never knew that. How'd you know that?” Reddy asks from the corner, safely voicing his curiosity now that the hard part is behind you. “Just real tech-savvy, I take it. That how you get your name?”
Tech smiles knowingly. “Learning the ins and outs of each machine I use is crucial to my effectiveness in service of the Republic. Much in the same way you're here to assist the researchers, analysts and reverse engineers in bomb identification, in some cases.” The second question goes unanswered, you notice, but Reddy seems to let it go.
“Hah, can't argue with that comparison!” he says agreeably, his smile sunny. You’ve always liked that about this particular member of the bomb squad; Red Wire has an optimistic disposition and general attitude despite the nerve-rattling nature of his job. He’s not terribly jaded or gruff like some of the other Clones on rotation at this facility.
Once you've collected all your necessary pictures, you are promised that he'll take it from here. “Good work as ever ma'am. I'll clean up while you get started on the search.”
“Thank you, I appreciate the help as always from both you and Tech.” you say, patting him on the shoulder before you follow after Tech, who’s already making his way back to your desk, neck craned over his datapad. Stepping past the blast doors to catch up to Tech, you breathe a sigh of relief while Red Wire begins the disposal process, the hardest task of the morning behind you.
“Glad that’s over,” you say, finally feeling your quickened pulse slowing at last, “Thank you for the help once again, Tech.” You’re certain he heard the first thank you, but extra gratitude never killed anyone.
Tech’s deliberate stride slows to match with yours. “It was no trouble. I thought you might want the help.” A polite smile breaks the veneer of the usual expression of thoughtfulness and concentration you’ve become accustomed to in the time Tech’s been here.
You’re very familiar with how he appears when he’s concentrated: the furrowed brow, his shoulders rolled forward, the subconscious setting and unsetting of his jaw as he mulls over a million thoughts. Wowing your colleagues with how he could extrapolate info from separate, complex datasets within multiple windows on the screen of his datapad without error.
The way his brown eyes, deep and dark, looked like honey when framed behind his goggles…
Sitting down at your desk where you fire up the database you’ll be working with, already you see the slight furrow of his brow as Tech takes his seat on the other side, trading messages with his squadmates while he elevates his leg to alleviate the pressure of the walking boot. Tech misses being out there in the field more and more with every passing day.
“Tell ‘em I said hi.” you request with a soft chuckle before allowing him to concentrate on keeping himself in the loop. You just have to hope his handsome face painted in deep concentration doesn’t prove too distracting for you as you cross-reference your wire samples. The squad leader of the Bad Batch, Sergeant Hunter, had teased Tech once a few weeks ago, when he dropped by with Echo, on the depths of Tech’s concentration. That’s when you’d truly taken notice of it for the first time.
Tech, utterly embroiled in some “little” project he’d created for himself here at the research center, was staying long after your scheduled hours, repeatedly promising that you really don’t have to stay here.
You turn another page in your holomag. “I’ll be fine staying here a little longer. I want to make sure none of the senior analysts bother you. Again.” It was a slow Zhellday afternoon you had no other plans for, and a couple of people a little further up the chain of command really had a bug up their ass about Tech’s presence here today in particular, continually complaining about an incident with his crutches.
Someone hadn’t been looking where they were going and bumped into the mobility aids propped against a wall, knocking them over this morning. Unfortunately, there had been a tray of glass instruments set aside nearby that did not survive the crutches’ sudden descent. The senior analysts, most of them much older than you, wanted him thrown out of the facility and have the agreement with the GAR that Tech would be here until his broken leg healed nullified.
“He’s got a broken leg! Is he supposed to just hobble around the lab without his crutches? It was an accident, but I’m starting to suspect you’re looking for excuses to get rid of him because you’re feeling threatened by his intellect!”
Clone Force 99’s second-in-command hums shortly in delayed response, a frown marring his otherwise concentrated expression. Tech adjusts his goggles as he pours over some reference. The man with partial skull iconography inked across his similarly tanned face next to Tech carefully nudges him with his elbow.
“Tech, this is when you’re supposed to tell the nice lady thank you.” Hunter warns him, teasingly of course. He’s gotten back from a long deployment, and rather than going to the nearest mess hall with Wrecker and Crosshair, he’s come to check up on Tech, finding that he’s still at the GAR research center. He’s too tired to give any kind of reprimand just for the sake of appearances.
“Especially after this morning… Don’t make me do the nat-born thing, vod.”
Tech sort of scoffs, the threat of referring to him by his CT number, like a misbehaving natural-born child hearing the use of their middle name, by his brother having little effect.
“No thanks necessary, honestly.” You turn the page to your holomag, skimming the article to see if it’s worth an in-depth read, then meet Hunter’s eye. “It was honestly a bit cathartic to have a go at those jerks.” Decrying them as jerks to the squad leader of the Bad Batch was putting it real mildly given your true thoughts of them right about now.
Echo gives you a knowing nod. The sergeant smirks, and this is what gets Tech to break his silence.
“Don’t, Hunter.”
“Glad you made a friend, Tech.” Hunter says it with complete sincerity, so far as you can tell. Leaning back in the borrowed lab chair, Hunter kicks his feet up for a moment on a corner of the desk to adjust some parts of his armor. “Wrecker might get jealous.”
“I think we all would.” Echo says with a kind chuckle.
“Plenty of me to go around,” you promised the three of them, “I love making friends with the GAR.”
A few hours later, now four items deep into your checklist for the day with the wire cross-referencing behind you, you lean back in your chair and stretch your arms above your head, feeling something pop with great satisfaction. “Mmm! That felt good. Hey, Tech?” He nods to show he hears you, at which point you continue. “I’m thinking of running home real quick during lunch to take the honeysuckles home so I’m not wrestling with those on top of everything else I’ll have to take with me tonight. You gonna be okay on your own for a bit?”
“I will be fine.” he assures you, sliding the clipboard from “your” side of the desk over to his. “I may need the password to your desk-mounted computer terminal, however.”
“It’s ‘naboofields’. All one word, no capitals, special characters or letters.”
You root around your desk for one of the seemingly innumerable sticky-flim pads you possess, scribbling down the password - just in case - as neatly as you can before removing the top flimsi-note and hand it over to him. Honeyed eyes blink once in mild surprise after he inspects your handwriting.
“Not very secure, I know.” you laugh bashfully, straightening a few sheafs of flimsiplast before gathering up the stack of locker notes to tuck them in your pocket. Busywork to avoid any kind of lecturing look. But when you meet his eyes for the moment before wondering how best to pick up the ceramic vase full of beautiful tri-colored honeysuckle, you find no disappointment. Only more curiosity.
“Have you ever been to Naboo?” Tech asks. He’s noticed this particular topic has been cropping up a lot between the idle doodles on flimsi scraps of the bulbous Shaak grazing through lush emerald fields and little reminders you’ve written to yourself scattered across your desk lately. Ticket prices. Best time of year to go. Popular festivals. Fashion. You were weaving a curious pattern.
Tech doesn’t do this very often, but he hazards a guess. Could you perhaps be… homesick?
“Were you born there?”
You shake your head. “I wasn’t born there, and I’ve never visited before. Naboo’s just some… silly dream of mine lately.”
“Why do you say ‘silly’?” The question is earnest and sincere, and Tech sits forward off the backrest of the lab chair, posture straightening out. “Has someone said something unkind about your desire to see Naboo?” He couldn’t imagine why someone would disparage this; many galactic citizens express some level of desire to visit this planet in the Chrommell sector at least once in their lifespan.
He’s assured there’s no one being unkind to you when you wave him off, sliding the vase across your desk carefully. “No one other than me, I guess. I dunno when I’d ever have a chance to go visit between the work I do for the GAR, plus being in the middle of the Clone Wars for stars’ sake…” You’re considering if it would be worth telling him about your developing case of wanderlust, your craving for a taste of adventure. (Just a taste… just a taste!)
What Tech was supposed to do with that revelation, you weren’t sure. Did you want his help planning this whimsical trip? Or did you just need to confide in him with this harmless little secret?
“Would it be impolite to presume you don’t have many vacation days accrued in order to enjoy a short holiday?” Tech assumes you’re well aware of labor laws the GAR has to comply with for civilian staffing, like yourself, but he has no means of knowing how much PTO you have stored up without rooting into the system.
“Karabast, I- I hadn’t even thought of…” Your thoughts trail off as you look out one of the rain-spattered panes of transparisteel and determine you need to stop by your locker to gather your weather wear and rain repeller. When was the last time you had some extended leave from work that wasn’t a sick day, anyways? “I have some PTO I’m owed, but I try to be smart and save it for emergencies… I, uh, think I have more than two week’s worth.” Truthfully it’s been some time you looked at the amount of PTO you’ve accrued. It very well could be less than you remember, or more than you imagine.
Tech makes a quiet murmur of agreement that saving the time off for emergencies is rather smart, shrugging after a stretch of clearly contemplative silence. “I was merely curious.” The statement makes it tempting to tease him in return, say something like aren’t you always? but he has something more to say before you work up the nerve, gesturing to the clipboard. “May I watch the helmet footage for you while you take the Nabooian Honeysuckles home?”
“I was warned it was grisly.” you caution him out of kindness, thinking back to one of the locker notes. “So, as long as you don’t mind or won’t be bothered, I suppose you can look at the footage for me… Credits are on it being sent from Delta Squad.”
Scrutinizing the datadisc, Tech finds RC-1207 etched into it. Commando Sev, he tells you, went missing on Kashyyyk for a month early in the war… (Thank the Maker, his pod brothers had been fortunate in finding him.) Sev has never spoken of the experience.
“This should prove to be fascinating, in some regard.” Tech speculates, slotting the disc into an external inspection device to set everything up to complete this in your absence. Goggles are adjusted every so slightly, changing the way they are seated on his face. “I’ll leave the notes for you on your desk by the time you return.” he promises.
You make sure you’ve gathered the last of your things, saying that you better get going now that everything’s agreed upon. Carefully cradling the vase in the crook of your arm, you arrange the bouquet slightly with your free hand to avoid bruising any of the velveteen petals as you carry it.
Turning on your heel, you head for your locker to collect your rain repeller. “Appreciate it, Tech, thank you. I’ll catch you later.”
“Watch out for the deeper puddles, don’t slip.” Tech calls after you.
He’s overheard many of your colleagues using this phrase the last couple of days to warn one another; the longer the rain’s gone on, the deeper the areas of rain retention have become since the water table is oversaturated. There has been no break in the weather, but the end is in sight.
‘When will the rain stop?’ Soon. Maybe even tomorrow.
Habitually, you call back that you’ll be careful and another farewell, flashing him a sunny smile as you head out the door for the speeder cabs, the honeysuckles in one hand, repeller in the other. You don’t expect to be gone long.
Taking the vase full of honeysuckle home is your highest priority, right along with making sure the flimsiplast scraps in your pocket remain dry. Flimsi, while conveniently reusable, was hair-thin, had a slight transparency to it, and dissolved in water. (Why some disposable gowns for med centers were made out of the acrylic material when it was kriffing semi-transparent you had yet to figure out.) If you were careful of the shifting winds before you got to a speeder cab, Tech’s poems would stay safe and dry in your pockets, joining the others in a box of precious keepsakes at home.
Maybe you could put them all in a scrapbook one day, able to read and admire them all at leisure, or whenever you miss having new haikus show up in your locker once Tech’s broken leg is fully healed and he rejoins his brothers. Tech’s been careful not to voice how much he’s come to miss his brothers - else he risks sounding ungrateful for the research center agreeing to let him assist there after much back and forth - but you know he’s getting somewhat impatient.
“If I had known a second BX droid was around the boulder, I wouldn’t have tried to kick the first over the precipice…”
“That’s how you broke your leg?”
“Had it broken for me when the commando droid grabbed me, more accurately. Better me than Echo…”
He’d return to his brothers in time with the whole of hyperspace at his fingertips. Hunter would get his second-in-command back. The Havoc Marauder will have both of her pilots and it won’t be Echo spending time alone in the cockpit. Wrecker and Crosshair will once again have their brother to parse through factitious scenarios and the complicated mathematics necessary to pull it off relating to their enhancements to help one another in staving off hyperspace hypnosis.
And you’d go back to dreading Primedays and dreaming of clover covered plains on Naboo between every string of data you analyze for the GAR once Tech left. You’d miss the extra pair of capable hands and his talented, dare you say exceptional, mind. You’d miss the presence of yellow-lensed goggles and the steady, red light of the cylindrical camera attached to them that sometimes followed you around the analyst lab, that were as much a part of Tech’s face as the rest of his features.
You’d miss him and the harmless little crush Jais teases you over since helping you find out who your secret admirer was.
“Swing by your locker lately?”
“You have better eyesight than a Mynock but all the subtlety of a Reek, Jais. Yes I saw he left me another haiku.”
“What do they say?”
So much by using so little.
Tech has just seventeen syllables to work with, but boy does he make them work.
They will last far longer than any tender blossom, tucked carefully on the windowsill and lovingly arranged to fill in the gaps in the bouquet during transport. Home only for a short time, you settle for tucking the new haikus and other notes on the low table in the living room to sort through later tonight while eating dinner.
Come to think of it, maybe you should invite Tech over for dinner sometime, while he’s still here. (While there’s still time to leave things behind in order to remember him by.) He’s been staying in temporary accommodations in the unofficial research district since the nearest GAR barracks are an hour away, and the district isn’t too far from your place. You’re not sure what the protocol on this is (or if there’s any), and he’s more than welcome to turn you down, but-
This harmless crush has gone beyond only going one way.
You’re going to miss Tech when he leaves, not just because it means you'll lose an eager assistant who shares what he learns while you work. You've grown to like him in ways you haven't devoted proper time to exploring why with the nature of your work, but you like Tech too. And you don’t want just a vase full of honeysuckle that will one day wither and a smattering of haikus to remember him by.
You want something more. Something meaningful before he goes back to making mayhem for the Separatists.
And maybe it can start today, if you're clever enough.
It's time to stop daydreaming.
When you return to the research center, you first put your rain repeller away in your locker and collect the few notes that appeared while you were out. No new poems, only warnings that one of the senior analysts had a bug up their ass the size of a mynock (scratch that, a bantha) again over something minor, and it's best to stay out of their way until they cooled off.
“Hey, Tech, I'm back.” You announce your return from the lockers to avoid potentially startling him, finding him fiddling with a part of his vambrace. “Got some cryptic notes in my locker. Feel like I missed some excitement while I was away.”
“Yes… You certainly did.” One of the analysts lost their temper with the ‘newfangled’ caf-pot in the break room, Tech explains. Nothing newfangled about it in truth, it just wasn't working because it had been unplugged for cleaning and someone just forgot to leave a note.
“Speaking of notes,” he says as an aside, procuring a printed message from Lieutenant Waxer of Ghost Company in the 212th, “This came in just before you arrived while I was at the copier.”
Giving the lieutenant’s request a once-over, you find a general greeting after the Grand Army of the Republic’s letterhead, asking if someone would mind helping him locate the origin of a particular word in the language of the Twi’leks. Printed requests are deemed non-urgent, but it’s simple enough that you don’t mind adding his query to the bottom of your daily checklist, on which you find only the helmet footage crossed off.
“Thought you’d have gotten more done than this.” you say, chuckling as you take a seat at your desk.
Tech adjusts his goggles and meets your eye. “Felt it would be impolite to take your work from you when we had an agreement for just the footage.” He returns to fiddling around with his vambrace and his datapad, perhaps trying to sync something up.
His concern of taking further work from you without asking is very kind, and rather touching. You feel warmth in your face disproportionate to the heating system warming the labs on this rainy day. “Oh. Well, I wouldn’t have minded too much, but thank you. What’d you do instead until I got back?” You figure it didn’t take all too long to study the commando’s footage, finding the notes Tech’s took for you pinned underneath the datadisc the feed was stored on. Lifting the high-tech paperweight, you give the notes a glance.
It’s the same thin lettering as the haikus.
Tech tuts in thought while snapping a part of his vambrace back where it belongs. “General research. Nothing important.” He does not immediately elaborate on what he had researched, thinking you may want to take a moment to mentally prep yourself for returning to work and start on the next task at hand.
They were not concerns he (often) had to keep in mind with Hunter, Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair because he knew them so well compared to other people, compared to you. They spent the most time together and could give him a playful ribbing for overstepping boundaries, or starting detailed explanations when it wasn’t the best time. No one cares! was often said in-the-moment, and apologized for in ways that did not involve the words I’m sorry - and that was normal with his brothers.
So when you break into a big, friendly smile and draw out the word “Liiiike…?” while you continue to settle in, Tech knows it’s okay to elaborate. That you seem interested in what he has to say.
“It was the origin of halliksets. I became distracted when I learned they were quite popular on Naboo, and spent some time looking into that instead.” As he expected, you perk up with the mention of Naboo, interest piqued. “They’re made with seven strings, and the ore commonly used to make them comes from Kreeling, a mining planet also within the Chrommell sector.” The ore seems to be used to decorate the rounded body of the instrument, from what he had been reading. Ornamentation rather than function.
“Huh,” you say politely with a smile to match, “I had no idea. That’s really neat.”
You thank him for sharing before agreeing that perhaps you should get started on some of your work when he warns you that he can hear someone from another department coming, and it may be wise to appear busy.
For the next fifteen or so minutes, you and Tech are careful to appear focused on tasks from the clipboard. Something about figuring out why a standard caustic compound utilized by the GAR didn’t work. Tech casts a subtle glance over his shoulder while you muse over the specs, wondering just like you why someone from another department is taking their sweet time to leaf through all the disposable pipettes in the storage cabinet of all things. Trying to eavesdrop? Just really particular about their lab supplies? Who karking knows.
While looking into the humidity record on Felucia the day of the recorded equipment failure, you take a moment to open the system you submit your time-off requests to and look at the amount of paid time off accrued. Two and a half weeks. That’s not bad.
“Good to know….”
“What is it?” Tech asks.
“Oh, just poking into weather records,” you hum, hiding the portal, “Seems the caustic compound failed because of higher than average humidity that day. It was under six months old, so I don’t think it was a product age failure.” From the flashpoint of the Clone Wars on Geonosis, much of the equipment utilized barely sits on a shelf any longer than six standard months after its production and purchase for the Grand Army.
Clones were clever. Well trained. They knew how to account for things like planetary climate, weather conditions and equipment age out in the field, but you’ll always have the occasional fluke. Things beyond your control, beyond what you trained for. (Some things you could never train for.) But the Grand Army of the Republic could be trusted to give it their all, no matter the occasion, no matter the challenge.
You trusted men like Red Wire with your life here in the labs when you had to work with disarmed bombs, never doubting his ordnance training for a second. The same goes for the man sitting on the other side of your desk from you now, the injured leg in the walking boot propped up in a spare chair. You trust Tech too.
When the personnel from another department finally leaves, they’re grumbling something venomously about the missing label-maker under their breath, the word “di’kut!” loudest of all.
You recognize the Mando’a. Pronunciation DEE-koot. Multiple meanings. Idiot. Useless. Waste of space. (More accurately a waste of their time… Pretty sure someone already said the label-maker wasn’t in there.) You wonder where they know the word from.
Speaking for yourself, you’ve picked up a smidgen of the language from working as a researcher and analyst, and you’ve added a few more words to your repertoire from Tech’s uninterrupted correspondence with the Bad Batch that he’s allowed you to see some of.
And speaking of them… Now that you and Tech are alone, this might be a good time to try putting your plan in motion knowing how much PTO you have to work with now. You want to go to Naboo, and you want to see if there’s any way you can convince Tech to go with you. Maybe even meet you there with the rest of Clone Force 99. Make bumping into them look like a coincidence.
“Hey Tech, when you return to your brothers, any plans or ideas on where you’ll go first?”
A pad of sticky flimsi-notes is pulled from one of the many drawers of your desk, and you root around for a working pen while you wait on an answer. Calling upon courage from the very heart of the cosmos, you hope you can pull this off.
Tech answers the break in relative silence with a quirk of his eyebrow. “None that I’m aware of, but I suspect we’ll be going wherever we are needed.” There is a long contemplative pause, eyes flicking to his trusty tablet more than once as a few new messages from Wrecker come in.
“Is there some reason you’re asking?” He pushes the datapad aside now, giving you more of his attention, which is appreciated.
Shoulders bounce. “What if I said I was just curious?” You don’t expect him to buy that, he’s too clever. But you need a moment of quiet contemplation on his part to count out the syllables without messing up. Once you’re certain you have five, then seven syllables, you flash him an easygoing smile. “Being curious isn’t a crime, is it?”
“On some planets it is. Some rather… ridgid, often self-isolated cultures across the galaxy view curiosity as a sign of an idle mind and fear it will inspire mischief. Free thinking. Rebellion.”
The question had been rhetorical, and you don’t mind that he answered, but you find the fact quite sad. You also don’t want to begin to imagine how that sort of “crime” is punished. Curiosity is a natural part of life to all, to criminalize it is… frankly ridiculous.
“Well good thing we’re not in one of those isolated cultures.” you say, now thinking how you’ll finish penning this poem. Should you add your reasoning for why you wrote this at the bottom? (Would you even have room?) Maybe you should just tell him after he’s read your poem instead.
“Agreed.” Another message comes in from Echo this time, but Tech ignores it, continuing to hold eye contact with you; almost like he’s performing an inspection. “So I hope it does not feel like an accusation when I say I don’t believe you are ‘just curious’.”
“I did have an idea…” you admit, fiddling with the pen in your hand for the moment, “Since I heard Clone Force 99 isn’t keen on following every little order…” This is when you choose to slide the haiku you were working on over to “his” side of the desk, waiting in nervous silence as brown eyes scrutinize every Aurebesh letter laid bare before them.
Can't we ever go
to a nice place, verdant fields
of spring eternal?
- Feel like breaking a few rules?
Tech’s eyes lift from the flimsiplast note, looking surprised. He didn’t take you for the sort of person who’d encourage breaking certain GAR protocols, let alone… Your name falls from his lips, asking what this is about in the same tender tone.
“I thought about what you asked regarding how much time off I have, and I found out I have two and a half weeks…” You explain, fiddling with the pen some more to occupy your nervous hands while he continues to monitor you. “I thought… Maybe once your leg heals up, and you’re cleared to return to active duty, you could find an excuse to spend some time on Naboo. Get to know each other better, perhaps?” He clearly has some kind of feelings for you that are in the earlier stages of reciprocation, and if you’re away from the lab, and he finds the time or the excuse to nip down to the Chrommell sector and meet up with you on Naboo, then neither one of you have to worry about behaving quite so professionally.
Looking down at the haiku once again, Tech takes in your explanation, your invitation, and offers a mild chuckle at long last.
“You know what my brothers will say if I tell them about this?”
You swallow nervously. “W-what?”
“That it almost sounds like you’re asking me on a date.”
You do what you can to keep your jaw from dropping, but there’s little to be done about the fiery feeling building in the apple of your cheeks that suggests there may be color blooming there. If you’re blushing, Tech certainly does a splendid job of politely pretending he sees no such thing while he gives your poem another look.
You do the same in kind when additional color builds in his own face and crawls up his neck from under the top of the body suit. “I take it you figured out who was secretly leaving you the haikus.” His smile is timid, but not quite as nervous as your own.
“I did. A while ago, actually.” you confess, confirming his suspicions. “I had help checking the cameras to see where the first one came from. I didn’t see a reason to say anything, or stop you.” You add that you’ve kept every single one, too, to some surprise of the computer and weapons specialist sitting across from you.
He sits forward now, carefully easing the walking boot to the floor. “You really want to spend time with me on Naboo?” Your earnest nod surprises him further. You do. Out of millions of Clones in the galaxy, you’re asking Tech (and his brothers by proxy) to join you in visiting the idyllic planet.
You carefully carve out a little portion of your PTO and submit the request as the very first step in the planning process, and while you await approval you and Tech will continue to work together as normal. You still have to behave professionally in the meantime.
Well, as professionally as possible when Tech decides he can now confess he has a backlog of haikus for you, enough so you could have one waiting for you in your locker every day until he’s cleared to return to fieldwork in a few weeks, in theory.
“Poetry every Primeday, honeysuckles today, and now you’re offering daily haikus? Maybe I will be asking you out on a date if you continue to spoil me like that.” you warn him, chuckling. Of course now you get the feeling Tech will make sure the weeks leading up to your time-off would consist of honeysuckle and haiku to ensure that you would.
And those were going to become some of your best weeks working as a researcher and analyst for the GAR, whether you got that time off or not, because it would be spent making precious memories with Tech.
That was what mattered most.
First time I've ever participated in one of these events, and I don't think I did too badly, considering I completely restarted this at one point! (Apologies for how long this ended up being, too, haha.) I hope you liked it, Tech-a! 🩷
Fic taglist: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit
[Masterlist] [Taglist] [Requests: Open]
#frostfics#Of Honeysuckle and Haiku#star wars#tbb#the bad batch#tbb fic#tbb fanfic#tbb fanfiction#tbb tech#tech tbb#tech the bad batch#tech#ct 9902#fem reader#tbb tech x reader#tbb tech x you#tech x reader#tech x you#tech x fem!reader#TBBE2024
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one hell of an amen - chapter 6
Summary: His mom always taught him that doing what’s right isn’t always easy, but Jay never imagined how hard it’d be. Or how it could cost him everything.
Notes: And we're back with a new chapter, one that just so happens to be my favorite so far! It's been a heck of a few days (weeks/months/years 🥴) here in the US so hopefully this will be a nice little break from reality for you. Hang in there friends!
Read on AO3 or below!
When Jay first joined the Army, he didn’t know what the future would hold for him. Part of him expected to be a lifer, a career military man, and part of him, especially after joining the Rangers, expected to never make it home. His first year or so enlisted, he was OK with either fate—his mom was sick (and eventually passed), and neither his dad nor his brother approved of his decision and had all but stopped communication. No one was waiting at home for him so, in his mind, it didn’t matter.
Then Natalie came along, and his brother was back in his life…they even gave him a nephew. Jay had a reason to come home now, but it wasn’t that simple. Will and Natalie had their own lives and careers and family with Owen. Sure, they loved him and welcomed him home with open arms every time, and yes, they missed him while he was gone, but their lives would still go on if he never came back to Chicago permanently.
Or if he never came back at all.
Jay was resigned to spend the rest of his years in the military, bouncing between deployments and different duty stations, and only returning to Chicago for visits and special occasions. Then, some idiot robbed the store he was in during one of his leaves and he met Hailey.
Hailey Anne Upton, with her long blonde hair and bright blue eyes, had changed his life as quickly as she had entered it.
Suddenly he had someone waiting for him at home; someone who loved him more than anything, just like he loved her, and someone he had a future with. For the first time in his career, Jay was seriously considering leaving the military and returning home to live the rest of his life with Hailey.
He wanted it all with her—a future, a family, a happily ever after—and while dozens of others in the military were able to make it work, Jay knew he didn’t want that. Jay wanted to be home, in Chicago, with Hailey and their family. He’d told her as much during one of his leaves after they came home from Owen’s birthday party.
Hailey knew her husband like the back of her hand so, when Jay was uncharacteristically quiet after they returned home from Will and Natalie’s, she knew something was up. She knew he’d talk to her eventually. Sure enough, once they were settled into bed for the night, he started talking.
“Do you ever think about our future?” His voice was quiet, and Hailey could tell he was still in deep thought. “Or what our life could be like if I wasn’t in the army?”
“Of course, I do.” Hailey propped herself up on one elbow and looked at Jay. She moved her free hand onto Jay’s arm and squeezed it. “Every time you go to training or off on another deployment, I think of what our life would be like, what our marriage would be like if we didn’t spend months apart at a time.”
She moved her hand from his arm up to his cheek, turning his face to look at her. “What brought this on?”
“My contract is up mid-year. They’ve already asked about re-upping but I haven’t given them an answer yet.”
That caught Hailey’s attention. For as long as she’d known Jay, and for as long as they'd been together, the Army had been his life. He’d been serving in the Army since he was eighteen–his unit was his family, especially back when he didn’t have his own. Any thoughts of him leaving up until this point had been nothing but a pipe dream.
Or so Hailey had thought.
“Are you considering not re-upping?”
Jay nodded after a moment. “I’m tired, Hails–tired of the fighting, the loss, that freaking desert. Most of all, I’m tired of being away from you.”
More than half of their relationship had been spent 7000 miles away from each other, it was a fact neither Hailey nor Jay tried to focus on too much. It wasn’t easy, having a long-distance marriage, but they made it work the best they could. Hailey couldn’t up and move to an active war zone, and she didn’t want to ask Jay to give up the stability and family he’d known for over 10 years, no matter how much she missed him.
“When I first joined the Army, I didn’t have anyone to come home to, not really. So, the Rangers, my unit, became my family. I was fine with a long future in the military–bouncing from duty station to duty station–but not anymore. The only future I want is one right here with you.”
Hailey smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. She leaned over and kissed him. She’d never ask Jay to leave the military but, if he was offering well, she wouldn’t argue. After they broke apart from the kiss, Hailey stared into his eyes. “You’re serious about this?”
“100%,” Jay confirmed. “This upcoming tour will be my last. Then I’m all yours and the future is ours.”
Hailey let out a squeal and launched herself at Jay, closing the gap between them. Jay rolled over until he was on his back and Hailey was on top of him. He held her close, his hands making their way up her back as he worked her shirt off. Jay’s hands roamed over Hailey’s body, and she quickly returned the favor, tossing his shirt to the ground next to hers. Jay rolled them again, leaving him towering over Hailey. He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Hailey responded just as eagerly and soon the two were lost in each other, celebrating the future ahead of them.
It was a few hours later, their flushed bodies covered by the sheets, that Hailey broke the peaceful silence. She lazily drew random shapes on Jay’s bare chest as she spoke. “So, this future of ours…do you have any plans for it?”
Jay’s answering smile was dreamy. He grabbed Hailey’s hand from his chest and kissed it before he spoke. “I don’t know—maybe I’ll go to college and get my degree or maybe I’ll go to the Police Academy, join you out there on the streets.” Hailey snorted, earning a laugh from Jay in response, but he continued speaking. “I don’t care what happens, as long as I have you with me. You, me, maybe a couple of kids….”
“A couple of kids huh?” Hailey asked, a bright smile on her face.
“Yeah, a mini-you and a mini-me.”
“I like the sound of that,” Hailey cooed. She closed the gap between her and Jay again, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Want to start practicing?”
Jay laughed but heartily agreed. He pulled Hailey closer and the two picked up right where they left off.
When Jay and Hailey said goodbye at the airport a few weeks later, it was bittersweet. Neither of them liked saying goodbye but the knowledge of this being Jay’s last tour made things a little bit better.
Everything about this deployment had been par for the course, right down to the scorching sun and the heat of the Afghanistan desert.
Jay could have never anticipated things happening the way they did.
… … …
“We need a medic over here, now!”
"Hang on buddy, we've got you. Hang in there. Please."
That was the last thing Jay heard before the pain overtook him, sending him into a blissful, pain-free oblivion. Ironically enough, it was that same pain that tried to drag him back to consciousness. Hands were all over him, touching him, assessing his injuries, and as much as Jay wanted to move away from the probing hands, he was unable to move. Something held his head still while other hands moved him onto something hard.
Something came across his chest and legs, keeping him still. The added pressure caused his pain to spike to levels he’d never felt before. Then, as he was moved, every one of his senses ignited. Excruciating, fiery pain engulfed his body; it burned hot and unceasing, like an inferno. Every jostle from his rescuers increased his pain tenfold and by the time his abused body finally came to a stop Jay was no longer able to silence his cry of pain.
Jay cried out, alerting those around him that he was once again conscious.
“Halstead! You with us?”
“Jay? Can you hear me? Open your eyes for me.”
Jay didn’t recognize the voices speaking to him. He just continued to grunt and groan as his pain spiked.
Voices continued to murmur around him, urgent and rushed. Hands touched him all over, accessing injuries, cutting away his uniform, attaching him to monitors and machines. Soon frantic beeping joined the cacophony of noise, overwhelming Jay’s already overtaxed senses. But it was the prick of a needle in his arm that brought everything into focus and with it, a brief absence of pain.
As the beeping of the machines slowed to a more regular rhythm, Jay’s fists unclenched, and his body started to relax. He only got a moment of peace, however, before someone was forcing open his eye and shining a light in it.
The light caused the pain in Jay’s head to flair, despite the pain meds, and he tried to turn away but whatever kept his head secured kept him from escaping the light. He screwed his eyes shut but the same hands forced his other eye open, shinning the light in once again.
“Pupils are unequal and sluggish.”
Now that the pain had lessened and Jay’s head was clearer, he realized he’d been brought to the base hospital. That explained the machines, the onslaught of medical jargon being yelled around the room, and the glorious medications that granted him the first bit of freedom from the pain.
An oxygen mask was secured over his face and Jay’s eyes snapped open. Through blurry eyes and fluorescent bulbs shining down from above him, Jay managed to make out multiple pairs of gloved hands reaching over him, passing IV bags, tubes, and medical equipment from one side of the room to the other.
It wasn’t long before someone on the medical team discovered he was conscious again. Dr. Curtis, someone Jay had been forced to see more than he’d like throughout his time in Afghanistan, came into view. “Halstead? You with me?”
Jay locked eyes with the doctor for a moment before his eyes rolled into his head.
The last thing he heard before losing consciousness again is the sound of alarms blaring.
… … …
Jay was aware of only one thing the next time he woke up: pain. All-encompassing and unescapable pain. Every fiber of his being hurt to a point where just existing was incredibly painful.
As he slowly returned to consciousness, he tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to exacerbate the already ungodly amount of pain he was experiencing. He couldn’t move his left hand for some reason, but his right hand moved slowly around him, catching the eye of a nurse who’d been in to check his monitors. “Ranger Halstead?”
Jay’s movements stopped and he focused on the sound of the nurse’s footsteps coming closer. He cracked his eyes open as she came to a stop. The nurse gave him a kind smile as she reached out of his view to press the call button. “There you are! It’s so good to see you awake! You’ve given the doctors a run for their money the past week.”
That caught Jay’s attention. His eyes shot open. A week?! He tried to sit up but the immediate wave of pain that crashed over him stopped his movements and stole his breath. He managed to choke out a gasp.
“Easy there,” The nurse, Rebekah according to her badge, said as she gently pushed Jay back onto the bed. She pressed a few buttons on his IV pain pump. “You’re in no shape to be moving around like that just yet.”
Jay’s eyes were screwed shut as he struggled against the pain. It was evident when the newest dose of pain meds hit his system—his features relaxed and he was able to breathe easier. He opened his eyes again and looked at Rebekah. “It’s been a week?”
His voice was quiet and raspy, clear evidence he hadn’t spoken in a long time.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sprung that little detail on you.” Rebekah gave him an abashed smile.
Before she could say anything else, the curtain in front of Jay’s bed moved and Dr. Curtis entered, along with Jay’s Sergeant and the base commander. Jay eyed them warily before turning his focus on the doctor.
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Dr. Curtis said, a smile on his face.
“Hey doc,” Jay mumbled. His pain had lessened and his adrenaline from the earlier excitement had faded, leaving him feeling exhausted. “What the hell happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Dr. Curtis asked carefully, sharing a look with the two military officers.
He might have been drugged out of his mind, but Jay still caught the look. Jay slowly shook his head. “Everything’s blurry.”
Dr. Curtis nodded and checked Jay’s monitors as Rebekah gave a rundown of her assessment. Dr. Curtis checked the stitches at Jay’s surgical sites, his drains, and his output silently.
The silence was suspicious and by the time Dr. Curtis finished his check-up, Jay couldn’t take it anymore. “What happened?”
“There was an…..incident on base, about a week ago, and you were seriously injured. You’ve got some broken ribs, a minor skull fracture, and your left arm is broken.”
At the mention of his arm, Jay looked down and finally noticed the cast on his arm. His eyes moved back to Dr. Curtis as the man continued speaking.
“Your broken ribs caused a pneumothorax, so we inserted a chest tube. Blunt force trauma to your abdomen caused your spleen to rupture and we had to operate to remove it. Your skull fracture’s stable, but it did cause some swelling and despite the medications we were giving you, you had a seizure the day after your first surgery, which caused your surgical incision to reopen and your broken ribs to shift, puncturing your lung. You had another surgery to repair your lung and stabilize your ribs. There were a few other close calls where we almost took you back into surgery, but those issues corrected themselves. We’ve kept you sedated to give your body time to respond to the medications and heal.”
Dr. Curtis gave Jay a comforting smile, noting the shocked look on his face. “We started weaning you off of the sedation last night. I’m pleased with how everything looks now that you’re awake and I’m comfortable with finally transferring you to Landstuhl in Germany to continue healing.”
Jay’s head was spinning, and not just from the meds. He couldn’t believe was he was being told. “Has my family been told? My wife?”
His Sergeant stepped forward and spoke for the first time since arriving. “Yes. Your wife and brother were notified that you had been injured and one of the Casualty Assistance Officers stateside has been updating them on your condition. Once you’ve been moved to Landstuhl, they’ll fly out and meet you there.”
Jay nodded. The promise of getting to see Hailey (and Will, but mostly Hailey) left him feeling more relieved than the promising update on his health.
Good news aside, there was still one thing bothering Jay more than anything else. He focused his attention on his commanding officers. “The ‘incident’ that caused this? What the hell happened?! Is everyone else ok?”
“Everyone else is fine.” His Sergeant promised. “As for what happened, we were hoping you’d be able to tell us once you woke up. An investigation has been opened but there are still questions we need to find the answers to.”
“I don’t remember anything,” Jay stated. He was racking his brain for anything helpful but everything was just a big black hole.
“You’ve been through a serious trauma and medicated to the gills for the past week.” Dr. Curtis jumped in, comfortingly. “It’s entirely possible that you’ll start to remember more as your body continues to heal.”
“But it’s also possible I won’t remember anything at all…”
“Let’s not borrow trouble yet Halstead,” Colonel Jackson spoke for the first time. Jay had been under his command for a shorter time than others on base, but he had a soft spot for the Ranger—Halstead was good at his job and loyal to a fault. The fact that he’d been seriously, almost critically, injured on his base and under his watch was hard. “You just need to focus on healing. The investigation will continue and if or when you remember anything important, we’ll deal with it.”
Jay sighed. “Yes sir.”
How was he supposed to focus on healing when there were so many questions in his mind? Being transferred to Germany would help his physical health, and seeing Hailey again would help his emotional health, but leaving Afghanistan without answers, without closure, would not help his mental health at all.
… … …
It was a bone-deep ache all over that roused Jay from his sleep. The pain was dull and constant throughout his entire body, but it was infinitely better than the searing, stabbing pain he’d been experiencing. His mind was the clearest it had been since his arrival at Landstuhl a few days ago, meaning the doctors had started easing up on the drugs they gave him.
Mind sharper, Jay realized that it wasn’t just the pain or the continuous beeping and sounds of the machines in his room that woke him, it was also the sound of two voices—voices he had wanted to hear for the longest time, voices that at one point he didn’t know he'd hear again.
He started moving slightly but his movements stopped as his body protested. Repeated trauma and days of inactivity left him with stiff muscles on top of his healing injuries. Jay groaned and suddenly the voices stopped.
The voices were quickly replaced by the sound of chairs hastily scraping across the floor and footsteps hurrying to the side of the bed. He felt two very different hands touching him and then…
“Jay?”
Hailey.
Hailey was there! Jay felt the emotions welling up inside him, and his eyes burned with unshed tears. He forced his eyes open and had to blink several times to clear his vision. The people beside his bed had started just as blurry blobs but after a minute or two, Jay was able to make out very familiar blonde and red heads of hair. Their faces came into view just seconds later and Jay had never been so happy to see his wife and brother.
"Am I dead?" He asked quietly, his eyes at half-mast.
"No, you're not dead," Will assured quickly. "You're gonna feel like death for a while but you are very much alive."
Jay flicked his eyes towards his brother for a moment before settling back on Hailey. "Are you sure?"
"Of course, we are! You're not—" Hailey started. She was concerned at first, worried about Jay's mental state before she noticed the small smirk and glint in his eyes. She glared at him. "Jay Halstead, if you’re about to pull some 'I'm looking at an angel' bullshit I'm filing for divorce."
Jay’s smirk turned into a full-blown smile and he started laughing only for it to immediately turn into a coughing fit. He moaned and screwed his eyes shut at the pain that sparked in his chest—his ribs and lungs screaming.
“Easy,” Hailey cooed, rubbing Jay’s back as he continued coughing.
Will put a hand on Jay’s leg and carefully watched the monitors, making sure his brother’s stats stayed in a normal range. “That’s what you get for that stunt, asshole.”
As Jay caught his breath, he used the hand not wrapped around his ribs to flip his brother off. Hailey snorted in amusement before helping Jay get comfortable in bed again.
Once his pain had lessened and his breathing was back under control, Jay turned his head towards Hailey and opened his eyes. His smile was less mischievous this time, softer. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Hailey smiled and sniffled, happy, relieved tears welling up in her eyes. “I thought I lost you.”
Jay shook his head gently. “I promised you a future, remember? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
Hailey choked out a laugh and leaned forward, capturing Jay’s lips in a kiss.
Jay returned the kiss just as eagerly. He’d always loved kissing Hailey but after almost dying and never being able to see her again, Jay had never loved anything more.
#one hell of an amen#army ranger jay halstead au#jay halstead#hailey upton#upstead#army jay au#chicago pd
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COMIC IDEAS MASTERLIST: ALWAYS UPDATING
And even when i have enough backlog of ideas, It's either having no time or no motivation ;w;
Ideas that have not been made into comics so far.... (a reminder for KD to actually draw them instead of being a lazy bum)
Fawcett citizens think that marvel has bad eyesight because he squints a lot, Marvel is confused. When they put on glasses on him, his dot eyes opens. This confuses marvel and the citizens even more (explanation: he does his out of instinct from seeing his dad with squinty eyes)
Silly caller
Crutches
A comic about Captain Marvel being oblivious about the women who's flirting with him, this caused Junior to talk out of his ass "He's still mourning you idiots!", this made people believe that the wife has passwed away and captain marvel hasn't moved on yet, this can lead to a misunderstanding with Black Canary with counseling marvel [Marvel is talking about his mom and how he misses her but BC thought he was talking about his wife]. Mary proceeds to slap Jr because of his impulsiveness
Captain Marvel snoring like a dad and Billy snoring (honk mimimimi) based on this post
Mary teaching Billy about Table Manners before meeting her adoptive mother
Mary being invited on the Wayne Gala, Billy and Freddy shenanigans ensued (they thought the wayne kid is hitting on their sister)
Crack comic: Billy Boasting over Superman because he got to join the army as Captain Marvel once but Supes didnt just because of an eye exam failure
Kid Eternity's Birthday
[Needs polish] A scenario after Batman adopted Billy, Billy told Freddy and Mary about it, Freddy has a flashback where he got adopted by rich parents and the snobby high school experience back in Captain Marvel Jr , probably ends with Junior confronting Batman to not send Billy to a hoity toity rich private school
The Marvel Family and how they handle publicity
Freddy picking up Billy's swearing habits "Holey Moley" (continues where the publicity comic ends)
Billy and his Caprisun
Billy and Freddy had a fall out but everyone else interpreted it as Junior undergoing teenage rebellion and proceeded to give the captain parenting advices [Pre Teen Parent Billy]
a Penguins of madagascar scenario? The marvel family can understand what the penguins are saying and everyone around them are just confused why they are so worried about those penguins
Not likely but still writing for the script: an AU comic of the Suspendium happening in Fawcett City from 1940s-2000s instead of 1950-1970. Kid Eternity had to shoo people away from fawcett city during those years lest they became trapped in the suspendium as well. [A reminder for KD to learn how to write angst]
Timeline of events for The AU
-Suspendium, Marvel Family went Missing, Kit protects Fawcett City
- Criminals planning taking over the Fawcett "ghost town", Kid Eternity having a show down with Her highness and Silk
-2 years into the suspendium, one of the Golden age heroes investigated the "Ghost Town" Fawcett City, a fight between Kid Eternity Vs Alan Scott [need to read more og green lantern and other lantern lore, it's either him against alan scott or him against Jay Garrick, either heroes would think Kit is the one behind the ghost town/ dissapearance of the marvel family before Kit explained his situation to them [a remindee for me to read comics and write this further] ]
-Kit builds a Gigantic fort surrounding Fawcett City with the help of the smurfs, this alongside with mythical/historical characters appearing left and right makes more tourists going over to the "haunted Fawcett City" and it's driving Kit insane [he was too silly to realize that summoning famous people brings attention to the town, shenanigans ensued]
-an elderly Silk went straight, her highness had passed away from old age, Silk and Kit catch up with each other. Old Silk wants Kit to summon her when she kicks the bucket, lending her strength to Kit
-enter the 21st century, Kit celebrates a lonely christmas without the marvel family. He meets the kents who were right outside the City border with empty gas. He celerbates a wonderful christmas with the kents before Santa gives Kit a gameboy color, with pokemon yellow
-the 2000s era could involve the teen titans or any teen organizations in dc comics [a reminder for KD to read the batfamily, nightwing storylines, etc]
-Enter some years afterwards, the marvel family finally broke free from the suspendium. The golden age family met the 21st century
(The final story Needs polish, perhaps Kit will have more angst because his time is almost up, [living on earth for almost 70-80 years in this AU] and he still didn't want to tell his brother of him existing, )
A supersons Oneshot Comic
Premise: Jon and Damian wanted to see the new Fredbear's pizzeria Movie but the clerk said they're too young to enter. With Jon being 10 and Damian not looking like his age (13).
many shenanigans ensued as they attempt to enter the movie theatre before a new villain who can bring horror movie characters to life appears!
Can the two save the theatre when they're facing against slashers, Chainsaw killers, and a Horror-knockoff of Superman?!
(We'll have to see becaude i suck at drawing fight scenes ;w;)
A Supersons small crack comic
Superboy became a bad cop and Robin became a good cop. This terrifies the criminals.
#Scenarios#Masterpost scenario for KD#a reminder to myself#billy batson#freddy freeman#Mary bromfield#Mary batson#Christopher freeman#Kid eternity
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Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 2
Prompts: AU+Movieverse/Jay Recs! *vibrates at the thought of Jay content*
AU/Movieverse Recs:
if you could date any of the ninja, which one would you date?:
Lloyd experiences the world's worst second-hand embarrassment and the rest of the ninja absolutely are not helping. Not actually shippy, just really funny and Lloyd has a (mostly) light-hearted hard time.
Reference Letters:
Kai is tasked with recruiting some fresh talent to the Secret Ninja Force, and what starts as a joke to welcome Lloyd Garmadon into the squad turns into a genuine crusade for his friendship. The Green Ninja, however, is having none of that. (It goes exactly how you expect it to and gah it's beautiful. Kai and Lloyd duo forever!)
Who's the New Guy? He Looks Awfully Green:
Movieverse fic in which Lloyd is the last to become a ninja, and the last to learn everyone else's identities. It's full of team-bonding (collectively and one-on-one!), hilarious Wu moments, and Movie!Lloyd being Movie!Lloyd ;w;)/
Jay Recs:
Unfortunately, You're Amazing:
Jay faces the dilemma of *maybe* possibly kinda sorta having a small little totally non-consequential thing for Samurai X. But beyond that Jay just gets to be his dorky, smart, snarky, easily impressed self and it's so fun and delightful to read, I go back to it all the time!
Play to Win:
An au/ canon divergent whump fic where Jay and Cole are roped into a round of Scrap-N-Tap...and that description does NOT do it justice, but if you like emotional tension, a heaping of personal distress, and a Jay who is unfortunately one step ahead of everyone else, you'll love this. Probably not for the faint of heart, definitely for the angsty daredevils (such as myself)
Jay and the Important Differences Between Spider Pokemon:
Pokemon AU that explores Jay's "perplexing" fear of spiders post S6. A fascinating and fun idea for a plot, plus, there's Pokemon. it's all good stuff!
And She Wore Blue, Right?:
Jay starts suddenly having reason to look into who his birth mother is...was. Hits just right for people who've always wondered how the show might have tackles this little interesting conundrum.
turtle or the hare:
WOW I forgot I read this one aaaaaaaa BUT Jay inadvertently meets his bio mom in a rather...expected place. God their personalities are so similar yet mesh so well hnnnnnnnng (we could have had it aaaaaaall)
Jay and the Deafening Sound:
...this one's mine BUT I've got all three categories covered—extremely about Jay, takes place in the movieverse, and has shades of my legacyverse au to boot <3 Not-so long story short, Jay finds himself up against the main faction of the Shark Army all on his own and finally has a good excuse to pop off with his powers <3
this doesn't really have a title but it IS really very good:
A scene or so where Jay and Kai spat over caring for each other too much and it's just such a beautiful depiction of their relationship, rocky tho it may seem ;w;)/
The Fantastic Mr. Walker:
All these years later and it's still my favorite Jay-related thing to exist. Really gotta re-read it again so I can be delightedly distressed all over again <3
#unfortunately i don't read a lot of au's#and there's never enough jay content so feed me today pls#ninjago#the lego ninjago movie#ninjagon fanfiction#fic recs#ninjago fic rec week#jay walker#tlnm
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Moustead + Animal Control AU
Jay didn't know how to do anything but follow.
After coming home again, he was the one floundering. With the divorce finalized and his brother halfway across the country, he had no choice but to follow along on the heels of his best friend. Mouse managed to get a job, one that paid enough to pay for an apartment. The space wasn't exactly meant for two people, with one bedroom, a small bathroom, and a kitchen that was barely big enough for one body at a time, but it was enough, temporarily.
It didn't have to be forever. It was just until he got back on his feet again, since he couldn't exactly go back to working in Intelligence, and whatever odd job he picked up didn't pay enough to live off of. He still had his truck, but delivering food around Chicago for less than minimum wage was far from ideal.
Then, he got lucky.
"You know, my truck partner got promoted. I can put in a good word, if you want to apply while we have openings."
"As great as that sounds, I don't want to work for Animal Control."
"Why not? You might even get to hang out with me all day. That would be fun."
"Mouse, with all due respect, I already live on your couch. I don't think we could handle spending that much more time together."
"Just apply. If you don't want the job, you can say no."
He felt stupid, filling out the same government form he was used to filling out just for a job that boiled down to cats in trees and stray dogs in alleys. It was ridiculous to think that he could have been next in line to lead the Intelligence Unit, with his wife at his side, and he didn't have any of it because he'd thrown it all away in the middle of an identity crisis. Surely stooping so low as to ride around in a white van all day couldn't really be better than what he was afraid of turning into before.
But Jay applied, and the job was offered to him, and, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn't that different from the army. He was in a truck all day, next to his best friend, and it was fun. They got to choose the music, and when they took a break, and where they got lunch. It even made carpooling easier. And, with two incomes, it didn't take more than a couple months to save up for an apartment that could actually accommodate both of them.
He just hadn't accounted for how much of the job had nothing to do with stay dogs and stuck cats.
#jay halstead#mouse gerwitz#greg mouse gerwitz#greg gerwitz#cpd#chicago pd#one chicago#alex does moodboards#animal control au#don't think about this too hard#it's just a silly little au#direct any questions or curiosities to my inbox#i will answer them so happily#i love my chaos au so much
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Surprise! (Movie!Cole x reader)
Summary: (Y/N) is a soldier in the army and comes home to surprise her boyfriend, Cole, and their friends. But he has a surprise for her too.
Warnings: Fluff?
(Y/N) = your name
(Y/M/N) = your middle name
(Y/L/N) = your last name
(C/P/N) = college president name
(P/N) = professor name
(Also! This is a college AU! Cole and the other ninja are ordinary and all go to college together while (Y/N) wanted to go into the Army. Also I apologize if I get anything wrong! Please feel free to correct me politely!)
11 months, 2 weeks, 5 days, and 13 minutes I have been away from home. But now I’m back for awhile. We were allowed to go home and I couldn’t be happier. I had called Cole and told him I couldn’t come home just yet, but that wasn’t the case. I wanted to surprise him. We’ve been dating since sophomore year of high school and he and the others are now in their senior year of college! I had called our friend, Zane, and we planned out my coming home surprise. He had talked to his professor and the president of the college and they were excited to help. I had gotten a taxi and it dropped me off at the college. I walked into the main building and smiled at the college president. She smiled back at me and led me to where Cole and the others were in class. I smoothed out my uniform and fixed my posture as we approached the door.
“Wait here. I’ll call you in.” The college president smiled at me. I nodded at her and she opened the door and walked into the classroom.
“Ah, Mrs (C/P/N). What a nice surprise.” (P/N) greeted.
“I apologize if I’m interrupting, but I need to speak with your class.” (C/P/N) said.
“Of course.” (P/N) gestured to his class. (C/P/N) nodded at him and turned to stare at everyone. I peeked through the doors window and smiled when I spotted Cole and our friends. They were sitting in the very back and seemed half interested in what (C/P/N) had to say. Well, Zane, Lloyd, Nya, and Jay were interested while Cole and Kai didn’t seem that interested.
“It has come to my attention that one of you has been breaking some of the rules I’ve set. Mr. Brookstone.” (C/P/N) called Cole out, making the class ooh him teasingly. I covered my mouth to stifle my laugh at his shocked expression.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs. President.” Cole said, confused.
“I think you do, Mr. Brookstone. I have called someone here to take care of you. Leave your things with your friends, you’ll be leaving the campus immediately.” (C/P/N) informed.
“What?” Cole asked in disbelief.
“He’s in here. Come on in.” (C/P/N) called to me. I smiled as I opened the door and walked in. Gasps rang out throughout the class and I laughed at Cole’s and the others shocked faces.
“(Y/N)!” Cole shouted, jumping out of his seat and running to me. I laughed as he picked me up and spun me around, the class cheering and clapping around us. He set me down and immediately cupped my face, kissing me passionately. We eventually pulled away and rested our foreheads against each other, our arms wrapped around each other. “I thought you said you couldn’t make it.” Cole said, staring into my eyes.
“I might’ve lied about that so I could surprise you.” I smiled. Cole breathed out a laugh and kissed my forehead before pulling back to stare at me. A throat cleared and we turned to Zane, who was sending Cole a look.
“What?” Cole questioned him before his eyes widened. “You knew! That’s why you told me to bring it!” He realized. I glanced between them with a confused look.
“Bring what?” I questioned. Cole took a deep breath and stepped away from me. “Cole?” I questioned only for my eyes to widen when he got down on one knee and pulled something out of his pocket. My hands flew to cover my mouth as tears sprung to my eyes as he opened the little box to reveal a beautiful ring.
“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), you have made me the happiest I have ever been in my life. You’ve made me laugh and smile, as you are the only one I will laugh and smile for. You’ve made me love, as you are the only one that I have and will ever love. You’ve made me dream, because us being together feels like a dream. I know it’s taken me awhile to do this, but I’m ready now. (Y/N), will you make my life compete and marry me?” Cole asked.
“Yes!” I gasped out, throwing my arms around him. I felt Cole relax as his arms wrapped around me and held me to him, everyone cheering around us. We eventually pulled back to stand up and Cole slipped the ring onto my finger. We kissed again before going back to holding each other with smiles on our faces. “I love you.” I whispered in Cole’s ear.
“I love you too.” He whispered back.
The ring-
#ninjago#cole brookstone#cole brookstone x reader#kai smith#nya smith#jay walker#zane julien#lloyd garmadon
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Chapter 11 - Go on darling (written)
₊ ⁺ pairing: Jay x fem!reader
₊ ⁺ genre: brothers bestfriend!au, college!au, neighbors/strangers to lovers!au
₊ ⁺ warings: mild angst, lowkey parent manipulation, sibling death, strong and suggestive language, smut
₊ ⁺ synopsis: you move from sydney australia to seoul to get your degree, what will happen when you spill coffee on a handsome stranger?
₊ ⁺ taglist: open - updates every monday and friday - might update on other times if i want a chapter out sooner rather than later
₊ ⁺ word count: 3,8k
₊ ⁺ note: our first written chapter! it's the only one for a while, so i really hope you enjoy it.
<- previously - masterlist - next ->
You had posted the photo of your dress on instagram, and stood in the bathroom of your apartment, biding your lip in suspense.
You hoped that he wouldn’t see it. You hoped that you got to see his face as his eyes landed on you for the first time, wearing one of your own creations. And for a few seconds you considered if it were better to delete the photo.
Incredibly enough you felt relaxed and ready for a night wearing the highest of heels. It felt like you had been running around after the guys, steaming shirts, finding jewelry, styling hair. Normally this work would’ve been one for a small army, but you had a vision, and for that to come true, you needed to be the one to do this.
A small knock on the bathroom door pulled you from your daydreams of how the night might progress. You hoped that your hard work would pay off, and that people would compliment the guys for their looks. and you hoped you might get a chance to dance with a certain heir.
“Can I come in?” Jungwoon asked through the door.
You felt how you were suddenly very aware of the design you had made, you were suddenly aware of all the hours you had spent over these last few weeks, and how afraid you were that people wouldn’t find the dress as beautiful as you did.
“It’s open!” You called back as you decided to figure out what earrings would look good with your updo. It was a desperate attempt to keep yourself busy as her friend entered the room.
The door slowly crept open, and the catlike man suddenly stood in its opening.
“Oh…” he almost whispered as you came into view, but the sound was still loud enough for you to hear.
You looked at him, worry painted all over your face. Was it too much? Was it not enough? Did it hug your figure in all the wrong places? Did you need to get rid of the gloves?
He caught on instantly, and sent a huge smile your way, one that quickly calmed your beating heart. You had never been more beautiful than you were right now, and he had never been prouder of you.
The four of you all matched. It had been your intention that you would all look like you’d belong together, like pieces of a puzzle. But was it too obvious? Maybe not even obvious enough that all the pieces belonged to the same ‘mini collection’.
“You look so beautiful” he walked towards you and before you knew it he had pulled you in for a hug. “God damn you’re talented!” He almost screamed.
You heard the sudden movements of your two other besties' bodies, one clearly falling off the couch, and before you knew it, they were standing in the door opening to the bathroom.
“Oh wow!” Sunoo said with huge eyes, his hands slowly creeping up to cover his shocked face.
Niki didn’t speak per say, he just took you in, analyzing the design of the dress with a sly smile on your lips.
“Everyone is gonna fall in love with you tonight” He then said, a smile reaching his eyes as he pulled Sunoo close to his chest in pure excitement. The two of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped them.
“Well we better get going. We don't wanna be late!” You said and hurried past the three men, all of them following close behind, making sure that they didn’t step on the trail of your dress.
_____
Before you knew it you had arrived at the gala. It was a private event, only a few paparazzis and journalists were allowed out front. Still you couldn’t help the constant bounce of your legs as you were sitting in the limousine, waiting to be dropped off.
Jungwoon laid one of his hands on your knee to calm it. “You need to stop doing that.” He had always found it incredibly annoying whenever you began, but he also understood that it was a way for you to calm your own nerves.
You nodded, and he sent you a small smile for reassurance. Hoping it was enough for you to finally calm down a little
“It might be your first red carpet, but something tells me it won't be your last” Niki said, as he offered you his arm to hold, right before the door of the limo was opened. He had always been your biggest cheerleader, and in some ways you saw the younger man more as a brother than as a friend.
“Don’t focus on the lights, if you do they’ll end up blinding you” he whispered in your ear, right before the lights started flashing.
People were yelling at Niki, yelling at you, yelling at the boys, bombarding you all with questions. And for the first few seconds you found it hard to focus. But as soon as Jungwoon had offered you his other arm to hold, you felt more relaxed, and decided you might as well enjoy the moment.
Before you knew it, Niki had given you to Sunoo, separating the two of you from one another. He sent you an apologetic smile and said: “I’ll have an interview in a few, so I’ll see you guys inside okay?” You saw a flash of worry in his eyes, but you quickly gave his hand a little squeeze of reassurance.
“See you inside,” Sunoo said as he sent Niki a smile that was quickly returned.
“Don’t worry, I’ll sing your praises to anyone who asks me who I’m wearing!” He yelled as he neared the red carpet stairs that led to the entrance. And before you could even answer him, he was halfway to the top, the lights following him wherever he went.
Niki had been born for the spotlight. He somehow fitted in on this red carpet. It was as much a performance for him as being on stage was.
You posed for a few photos with your best friends, and before you knew it, you were completely content being the focus of all the blinding lights. Especially when your biggest supporters were right there with you. Making you smile and laugh through it all.
“Let’s go” Jungwoon said, and the two men started leading you towards the tall stairs, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.
As soon as you were able to see the doors you spotted him. There he was, as beautiful as ever.
His hair was dark and swept away from his face, leaving his forehead exposed with just a strand of hair out of place. His lips were curled in a smile as he looked at his father who was speaking to a journalist.
Him and his parents stood a few meters closer to the door, cameras and microphones and phones all looking in their direction, all trying to get the latest scoop on one of Korea’s most influential families. It suited him somehow, this life. Like Niki, he belonged here.
He knew you were there before your eyes had found him. It was as if the air had shifted around him. As if he was gravitating towards you, but he had decided not to scout for you before he knew you were closer.
As you stood tall, on the arms of your best friends he finally allowed himself to look at you, instead of just admiring what he could out of the corner of his eye but he quickly realized that had been a mistake.
In the middle of a sentence his trail of thought completely stopped. You now occupied every cell of his body, and the only reason he was still breathing was because his heart had to keep beating for you.
He could hear how the now panicked journalist tried capturing his attention, he could feel how his parents too had turned their heads to figure out just what had stolen his attention.
“Excuse me” was all he could utter, and he had quickly left his parents behind for the sudden appearance of this mystery woman.
He stopped before you and the boys, his eyes never leaving yours, a bright pink coloring his cheeks. Cute.
He didn’t trust himself enough to utter a single word, instead he took a bow, it was deep, it was respectful. And it hid his face from you for just a second, and he hoped that would be enough for him to pull himself together.
You saw how the lights of the cameras started flashing even brighter, and if to protect you Sunoo took a step forward and gave him what most would most likely call a bro hug, and soon after Jungwoon did the exact same thing. You could see the hesitation in his movements as he tried to decide how to greet you.
He wanted to do something personal, and if it were up to him he had swept you up into his arms and taken you somewhere, where the two of you could finally be left alone. Somewhere he could finally lose himself in you.
You decided the best course of action might just be a small wave, it was simple, and in the end it didn’t draw too much attention to the two of you.
But before you got a chance to do exactly that, one of his arms snaked around your waist and pulled you close. His lips then rested for no more than a millisecond on your cheek, it was so fast, so fleeting that you for a second doubted if it even happened.
“I’m glad you guys could make it” his eyes were scanning the boys outfits. “You all look absolutely amazing,” he said as he slowly let go of your waist.
If it was up to him, he would keep his arm snaked around you all night long
His eyes sparkled, and he knew exactly why that was. He had come to realize that it had everything to do with you.
“It's all thanks to this one!” Jungwoon said as his arm snaked around your shoulders, pulling you a little closer. Jay smiled in response to the friendly gesture.
“You really did an amazing job Y/N…” Once again he completely forgot what to say as his eyes caught yours.
“Thank you” you said, as your chest filled with pride over his praise. For some reason it felt special coming from him. He was still just a stranger, but he was one with class and style.
“I better get back to my parents, I’ll see you guys inside when I’m done”
He turned around and walked away from you, shaking his limbs in the hopes that it would make your lingering perfume disappear from his suit.
“That went better than expected…” Sunoo said, but your eyes couldn’t concentrate on anything but him as he walked away.
“Do you think we need to carry her inside? I mean she’s practically pudding in his hands, I’m not really convinced her legs will be able to carry her” Jungwoon said, earning him a laugh from Sunoo and a hit of his arm from you.
The inside of the building was magnificent, perfectly lit with candles everywhere. Tables were scattered all over the place. The sudden fear of being seated with people you didn’t know hit you, but being your brother's sister, you hope that meant you would be well taken care off.
“Y/N!” You heard your brother call out for you, and you quickly found him seated in a bar with what you could only assume was the remaining men of his friend group.
They were both handsome, they both radiated power and money. But their eyes were kind, just like your brothers, and just like Jays.
You sat down between your brother and Sunghoon, as Sunoo and Jungwoon quickly started a conversation with Heeseung.
“So you’re the little sister huh?” Sunghoon said, a smirk painted on his lips as his eyes scanned your figure in the sparkling dress, and unlike when his friend looked at you, you suddenly felt the need to cover up.
“I am” you said, trying your best to seem as confident as possible. Jake laughed at the little powerplay that was unfolding before him. He knew both of you well. Sunghoon wasn’t one to give up without a fight, and you had to be one of the most stubborn people he had ever met.
“Hoon if you’re hitting on my sister we’re gonna have a problem” Jake then said, as he sent a wink your way.
You returned it with a little chuckle. He had always done that, protected you from the men of the world, especially if those men were his friends. He was the protector your father never was, he was the most important part of your family.
He quickly raised his hands in defeat. Laughing at your brother.
“Why is your bestie calling me over?” Jake then said with furrowed brows, right before he drowned the last of his champagne.
You turned towards the large dancefloor, and saw Niki waving your brother over. You knew exactly what that was about, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“How should I know I know, Niki can be a little all over the place, but maybe don’t let him wait? He’s talking to Min Yoongi after all” you said and quickly saw the panic in your brother's eyes.
“See you guys later!” he almost yelled as he ran towards the youngest of your friends, leaving the spot next to you free. Sunghoon was quick to grab the seat, forcing your attention to be on him alone as he was now seated next to the wall.
He liked to hold the sole attention of the women he talked to. Even the ones who were forbidden fruit. Hell, that made it even better if you asked him. Despite his fuckboy tendencies Sunghoon was more loyal than most when it came to his friends, he would never dare to pursue you if Jake had told him no. But the spark in you had caught his attention.
He didn’t really know why, he only knew that there had to be a reason for it.
“It’s a lovely dress” he said and took in the sight of the fabric clinging to your curves, this time admiring the design instead of the body the fabric was hiding for the world.
“Thank you” you answered and let your hands run down your thighs, desperate to soothe yourself.
The ballroom was cold, and the lack of both a coat and alcohol in your system definitely didn’t help. And Sunghoon made you nervous.
Sunghoon couldn’t help but chuckle. He stood up to remove his jacket, but it was as if something caught his attention, freezing him in his place.
You didn’t dare to turn around, whatever wordless conversation he was having, it seemed private, and you didn’t want to disturb it.
Jay had caught his best friend's eyes. And Sunghoon could almost feel how his twin flames heart fell, at the sight of him wanting to drape his jacket over your shoulder. At no point did Jay look at his friend, his eyes were only focused on you.
Sunghoon saw how he instinctively had started removing his own suit jacket, how he had left the conversation he was having behind, without any regards for the old and dusty CEO’s that tried to capture his attention. You were all he saw, so he backed down, and instead just held on to his jacket, telling you a lie about how the champagne had made him feel hot.
He couldn’t help but smile and shake his head at his best friend. That fucking idiot. He thought to himself.
“Jay” he said, as his friend was standing directly behind you.
“Hey” Jay answered.
Sunghoon then saw how your eyes found his friends as soon as he entered your vision. He saw the involuntary way you started smiling, how your whole demeanor became more relaxed as soon as Jay's signature scent of ‘black orchid’ hit the two of you.
“May I?” he asked as he towered over you, and looked at his suit jacket, signaling his intentions.
“Please” you answered. It was no more than a whisper, some might even have called it a whimper, and Jay felt how his heart started beating even faster than it had just done, and his cheeks were once again painted with a subtle pink color.
Sunghoon couldn’t help but roll his eyes, and chuckle silently at the sugarsweet interaction that was happening before him.
You loved the way Jay’s heavy suit jacket surrounded you. You loved how the smell of him suddenly was the only thing your senses could pick up on.
Jay smiled at you, hands lingering on your shoulders. Sunghoon just stood there observing the two of you. He didn’t dare breathe, he had a feeling that that was all it would take for the two of you to retreat back to the people who had already decided they were gonna close off their hearts for one another.
“Y/N, this is Sunghoon,” Jay said, finally acknowledging his best friend. “He’s my best friend”
Sunghoon smiled at his words; “don’t forget the love of your life”
Jay laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
“We all need one of those,” you stated.
Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel relieved by your words. His worst fear had always been that Jay would end up with someone who didn’t quite understand the bond that the two boys had. But if you did, and if Jay did in fact want you as bad as Sunghoon expected, he would move heaven and earth to help the two of you.
“We do, don’t we?” he said and patted his best friend on the shoulder and then suddenly pulled him in for a hug.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” Sunghoon whispered in his ear.
Jay pulled away a little and looked at him with big and choked eyes.
“Don’t you dare lie to me Jongseong. I’ll always keep your secrets. But I think you might need to prepare her, your parent are walking over here as we speak”
Sunghoon quickly smiled at you and then excused himself.
“He’s something else” you stated and couldn’t help but chuckle.
Earning you an instant smile.
“He really is,” he responded.
Then he stretched his arm out, offering his hand to you. You took it and looked at him with skeptic eyes.
“What are we doing now Park?” you asked, as you got on your feet. The height of your heels prevented him from towering over you, instead you were able to look directly into his eyes.
“Well don’t freak out now, but my parents are on their way over here, and I thought my mother deserves to see the dress that you’ve made” once again his eyes were sparkling as he looked at you. And you couldn’t help but think that you could get used to him looking at you like that.
And then the severity of his words hit you. His mother. She was a talented business woman, a designer, and your all time idol, and here you were, sitting with her son's jacket flung over your shoulders as you smile as an absolute idiot and cling to his every word.
“Shit!” you whisper yell as you pull off his jacket as fast as you possibly can, and throw it back in his face.
The jacket hit Jay in the face, and he couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped him as he pulled it from his face. He just looked at you with complete shock and admiration.
His father then coughed to capture his son's attention, an accomplishment that hadn’t been easy that night.
“Mother, father, allow me to introduce you to Sim Y/N, Jake's sister” he said, eyes never leaving you.
You bowed at the two parents, one they returned quickly.
“Your Jaeyun’s sister! How come we’ve never met you dear?” his mother said and gave you a polite hug, as she kissed each of your cheeks in a greeting.
“Y/N just recently moved back here from Australia” Jay answered on your behalf.
“I’m pretty sure the woman can speak for herself Jong” his mother then said, as she sent her son a look.
You laughed.
“Ah let him be a gentleman in front of her my love” his father then said as he pulled his wife a little closer as she rolled her eyes at her husband.
“Your gown is exquisite Y/N” his mother then stated as she looked you up and down, taking in all the little detail and the fine hand stitching.
You felt the instant heat in your cheeks, and your eyes quickly found the floor, afraid to meet her eyes.
“Thank you, so much… it means a lot coming from you!” you said as you once again bowed. One that the host once again returned this time with the kindest of smiles.
“It’s her own creation mother, Jake encouraged her to give it a go when I invited her and her friends” Jay then said.
His mother saw how her son stood a little taller when he talked about you, she saw how his hand involuntarily stretched every tenth second, as if he was trying to suppress the urge to take yours. And the actions brought a smile to her lips.
“Well sweetheart, you need to tell me all about your creative process!” she then said.
You bit your lip, a trait it seemed that you shared with your brother, and looked at the beautiful man who stood by your side. He felt pride in his chest. He felt at home with you so close to him.
“Go on, darling” he didn’t catch the pet name before it had already rolled off his tongue.
He wanted to curse at himself, he wanted to take it back at once. But when he saw how your eyes suddenly got bigger, how the words were suddenly caught in your throat and how you fluttered your lashes at him, he knew that he would call you darling for as long as you would allow him.
His mother then took your arm and let you away from her son, generally wanting to get to know the young woman who had captured her son's eye.
His father laughed as the two women left them alone.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, Jong,” he said.
“Like what?” Jay said, and looked at his father with a raised brow, once again pulling his jacket back on.
He laid a hand on his only son's shoulder, much like Sunghoon had done earlier. “You look at her, the same way I looked at your mother when I first met her…”
Jay laughed, “dad, please stop. It’s not like that” it was now his fathers turn to laugh.
“Oh but it is, don't deny it, and most importantly, don’t let her go because you’re afraid”
He then left his son alone with his thoughts.
________
₊ ⁺ Taglist: @addictedtohobi @deobitifull
(please like and reblog the post, it means the world to me, my ask is also always open for feedback or theories)
#jay#jongseong#jay social media au#jongseong social media au#enhypen social media au#Sunghoon fluff#Jake fluff#Niki fluff#Jay imagines#enhypen text au#enhypen sm au#enhypen social au#enhypen jeongseong#jay smut#enhypen#Heeseung fluff#Jay angst#engene#jay fluff#jayhoon#jay x reader#heeseung#sunghoon#jungwon#niki#riki#park jongseong#yang jungwon#lee heeseung#enhypen x reader
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