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crispyliza · 4 years

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Spamano multi-chapter fanfiction recommendation masterlist!

For all you home-quarantined people that have nothing to do and also because I’ve been meaning on making one of these since 2015 (took a global pandemic to get me started lol)

These fanfics are all with multiple chapters and listed in no particular order. Of course some are better than others, but every single one has its charms! I added only a few with 3 or 4 chapters because i liked them too much not to whereas the rest of the fanfics have at least 5+ chapters. So without further ado, here they are:

Una Notte A Napoli “One night in Naples, by the moon and sea, my heart was stolen by an angel who had forgotten how to fly.” (completed)

Per Sempre Tuo “Lovino Vargas, better known as Romano, is a famous TV actor. He has everything anyone could ever want. The only problem is that the thing he wants, over-night singing sensation Antonio Fernandez, is married.” (completed)

HOVA “The Nova Sagittarius was a ship that would take myself and countless other passengers on a one month trip around our solar system. But things went wrong; the ship changed and just like that, we were stranded. We got to know each other but more than that, we got to know ourselves.” (completed)

What We’d Do Without Gravity “While lost in a hospital Antonio comes across young terminally ill patient, Lovino Vargas. With Lovino left only six months to live it’s an awful time a romance to blossom between the ill fated pair, but with a bucket list to race through as the clock ticks down, the two find that love is very hard to avoid.” (completed)

Numbered Lithograph “When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn’t come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty.” (completed)

Tienimi Streto “Lovino Vargas is a detective with a poor attitude and a dark past, driven to the side of law by pain and revenge. After his partner quits, he is paired with specially recruited Antonio Carriedo, who becomes something more than just a co-worker. When deaths linked to the Italian start popping up over the city, Lovino begins to question everything he thought he knew.” (on-going)

More than attraction “Antonio says he met his love’s eyes over the bin of tomatoes. Lovino says he was stalked relentlessly until he was forced to give in.” (completed)

Credo “AU, 1502. Fueled by revenge, Lovino Vargas hasn’t failed an assassination job yet - but when a new Spanish captain comes to Rome, killing the unorthodox Antonio Carriedo might just be the death of him.” (completed)

Secret Tunnels from Madrid to Sicily “When Antonio Fernández Carriedo begins work as a professor at a prestigious university in Britain, one of his students, a Sicilian boy who goes by the name Romano, immediately catches his eye. He is a clearly gifted writer, who closes himself off in the wake of a dark and painful history. Even wrapped in his darkness, pushing everyone away, Toni finds himself determined to bring out the potential within Romano…They drag each other into a passionate, inevitable affair–doomed, they know, to end in flames.” (completed)

Why Did it Have to be You? “Lovino’s parents are tired of his horrible behavior, and hire Antonio to babysit him. But time is a cruel mistress, and in absence the heart grows fonder. These are just some of the things Antonio and Lovino will learn.” (completed)

And the Birds Sing No More “Don’t ever leave me.” Lovino said nothing. He allowed the tense heaviness to settle among his shoulders, tighten his lungs, and spread between the space from where he stood to where Antonio was seated lethargically. Antonio’s gaze sharpened. Lovino, inclining his head slightly, whispered, “I won’t.” (completed)

A Dancing Star “Antonio is the easy-going, life-loving art professor and Lovino is the Italian exchange student who walks into his art studio. When Antonio falls in love he thought he only had his job to worry about, but maybe it’s Lovino’s dark secret that’ll push him away. Trigger warning for self-harm and dark themes.” (completed)

Kismet “Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he’s in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways.” (completed)

Let that be enough “Lovino had given up hoping for someone who’d care about him. Antonio never expected to fall for the most tormented guy in town. But dark secrets and hidden dangers threatens their blooming relationship. Is it over before it even begun..?” (completed)

Child services “Romano and Feliciano Vargas have just lost their parents. Romano, who is 22, must care for his 6 year old little brother. Enter Antonio Carreido, the agent from Child Services who must record his progress, however, it’s hard for the cheerful Spaniard to keep from falling in love with this little broken down family and with Romano.” (on-going)

Loving a Stranger “You don’t remember, but I know you. We were- I don’t even know how to describe our relationship. That sounds bad, I know. I think you might have been in love with me, although I cannot see why. That’s just what I’ve been told. I acted as though I hated you, but I never did. I was afraid, because you were kind to me. I didn’t know I loved you until you forgot me…“ (completed)

The Many Personalities of Spain “England casts a spell to rid himself of Spain. As expected it goes wrong; leaving Romano to deal with the many personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? It would be if the personalities not had their own personifications.” (on-going)

Daisy Genocide “My name is Lovino Vargas but that’s not who I actually am. I’m my brother. They put his DNA into a little ball of jello and grew me like a house plant. To say it blatantly, I’m a clone and I’m in a disturbing amount of trouble. I’m about to tell the story of my fight to preserve my humanity followed by a vicious history of crime but it’s a secret. Nobody has to know.” (completed)

More Than Meets The Eye “Striving to find approval and meaning, Antonio throws himself into the world of art determined to come out on top. Yet, in all of his searching, burning, and pain, he never thought that a single culinary student could ever manage to tear down his walls and make him face his biggest fear; himself.” (on-going)

Cryonic “After suffering a fatal attack from an unknown illness, Lovino Vargas underwent cryopreservation, leaving behind his only family, his boyfriend, and a blooming company. Years later the effects are only just coming into play causing more problems than his preservation was supposed to solve. Human AU; T for language; pre-established Spamano.” (on-going)

All of Our Flaws “Antonio is a man whose world revolves around anyone but himself. Lovino is a man with dreams bigger than a job behind a drugstore counter. Antonio is broken; Lovino is incomplete. Will a chance meeting lead them to mending their cracks and finding their missing pieces? Human AU, trigger warning for self-harm.” (on-going)

Truly an artist “Having already completed college, Lovino Vargas lives in Madrid as an artist suffering from severe artist’s block. In one of his visits to his old school he runs into a new teacher, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who decides he’ll be the one to help Lovino in his endeavor to find himself. However cheerful and optimistic, Lovino still feels there’s more to Antonio than he’s letting on.” (completed)

The Heartbreaker “Sometimes the best things happen unexpectedly. Certainly this is Antonio’s opinion at the moment. The handsome stranger he met upon moving to a new town in Italy seems to be able to do almost no wrong. Until he digs a little deeper below the surface and begins to discover an unsettling reputation. And if the rumours are true, is it wise to trust a man known as ‘The Heartbreaker?” (completed)

We sing, We dance, We eat tomatoes “When Lovino Vargas takes in a starving guitar player called the Curbside Prophet from the streets of Philadelphia, he isn’t expecting the man to tolerate him for more than a couple weeks, much less fall in love with him. Based on the the music by Jason Mraz.” (on-going)

Underwater Land “Antonio was a merman. Lovino hated water. It was truly a match made in heaven.” (completed)

Flashlight “If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?” Twilight parody. (completed)

Catch you, Catch me “Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there’s more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.” (completed)

Blackbird “Antonio walks into a small coffee joint, hoping for just some caffeine to take the edge off of late-night studying for midterms, and gets a whole lot more than he bargained for in the form of a snarky, foulmouthed, Italian barista.” (on-going)

Counting Stars “Antonio, failed writer and journalist, thinks things are finally going his way when he lands an interview with actor Lovino Vargas. But it’s only the start of a long line of problems… the biggest of which may be Vargas himself.” (on-going)

Cosa Nostra “Based on the historical background of the Sicilian Mafia during the First Mafia War starring Mafia!Romano.” (completed)

Tight Rope “Rich, spoiled kid Lovino Vargas hates pirates. Pirate captain Antonio Carriedo hates rich, spoiled kids. None of them ever thought they could feel something different from hatred towards one another. However, Fate seems to have different plans for them, and twists their lives in unexpected ways.” (on-going)

When You Recover “Nurse Lovino Vargas has to take care of brain damaged patient Antonio Carriedo, who seems to have a strange affection towards him. N-not that Lovino likes it! The Italian is determined to make the man recover, no matter what it takes. What will little Lovino get himself into with this patient?” (on-going)

Like All Things, It Ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from. (Warnings for PTSD, Depression, harmful thinking of oneself, and violent death of a loved one)” (completed)

Wish upon a star “A drunken wish on a star lands Lovino back in the time of pirates, and when he runs into a familiar face with an unfamiliar personality, he’ll start to question his own heart. Pirate!SpainxRomano. Rated for language, violence, and maybe mature situation” (completed)

Crooked Timber “As an artist, Lovino understands that perfection doesn’t exist. If only Antonio agreed with him, and stopped trying to hurt himself. -Human (College) AU. Spamano multi-chapter with other minor pairings. Depressed!Antonio, Writer!Antonio, Artist!Lovino- TW for self-harm.” (completed)

Just Pretend! “Romano liked Emma- a lot. Except her stupid big brother was too overprotective (and, okay, a little scary)! He wouldn’t allow any guy near her- unless they weren’t romantically interested in Emma. So, Romano decided to pretend to be gay, with the help of Antonio, in hopes of getting Emma to fall in love with him. Perfect plan, right?” (completed)

The Duty of an Elder Son “Lovino Vargas knew a lot about duty.” His Grandfather’s swollen empire puts all of his family in danger, the other gangs are massing, the police are on their tails and Lovino is given a bodyguard in one Antonio Carriedo. 1920s Mafia AU fic. (completed)

Flatmates “They were flatmates, they were best friends and they were really frustrated about relationships. So what would two young men do about this?” (completed)

Zero Tolerance “Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. AU, human names used. Based on the book “Perfect Chemistry” by Simone Elkeles.” (completed)

Your Love Can Be My SIght “Seventeen year old Lovino Vargas lost his sight in a terrible car accident. Antonio, a teacher at Lovino’s school was born without it. Can Antonio teach Lovino that even without sight, life can be beautiful?” (completed)

The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot! “Spinoff of the “Sea Foam” chapter in Hetalia Fairy Tales. Captain Carriedo of the pirate ship, Buscador Dorado, seeks a legendary treasure “that is worth gaining” with the help of the infamous wish-giver, Lovino. But what is the true treasure?” (completed)

Crowns of Triple Gold “Things are rarely simple for Romano in the Eternal City, especially when he falls for one of his clients, a Hispanian senator up for consul against his father.” (completed)

Prisoners on the Slave Ship of Love “Lovino Vargas has been captured and taken hostage in a pirate raid led by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and his band of Spanish buccaneers. Tensions grow high and hearts are tested when Lovino becomes Captain Carriedo’s personal prisoner…” (on-going)

The Lemon Tree “Lovino didn’t want to be a slave in that scary mansion. He needed to break free. The fight for independence, however, is a difficult path, and falling in love with the man that destroyed his life doesn’t make things any easier.” (completed)

Sun Kissed “A powerful man once created gods to rule the sky as the creatures of the land lives. The Sun and the Moon. Brothers since birth, and all powerful, they rule side by side. As time passes, the Sun realizes how unhappy he is watching people hide from him. What happens when he discovers a man who isn’t afraid to live under the harsh sun?” (completed)

Tesoro Mio “Antonio’s the charming, handsome farmer with an infuriating Spanish accent, and Lovino is the mysterious wine entrepreneur who comes and goes. When Antonio falls in love, he throws society, expectations, and religion to the wayside, but can a strict Catholic like Lovino do the same?” (completed)

Because of the war “A first person POV for Romano during and after WW2. His thoughts as he fights and survives. Beware of angst.” (completed)

Just Add one Mermaid’s Tear “To gain something of ultimate value; the unthinkable must be preformed. The line is etched upon the brow of every nation, the taste of the water still on their lips. What happens though when one nation desires the fountain of youth once more?” (completed)

Until the Moss Had Reached Our Lips, and Covered Up Our Names “In a city filled to the brim with gangs, all the territory split between them, peace has lasted for the past sixteen years. It’s a tentative peace, won after the last massive gang war reshaped the entire city. Except all it takes is one domino to fall, and the Vargas patriarch is dead, leaving behind Antonio to lead his house, who isn’t even his blood relative. With an untried Head, the balance of power has started to shift again, and it seems as good a time as any to start calling in old debts and revenges.” (on-going)

The Bet “When someone kisses you, and then moves away you’d think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio…which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn’t going to let go that easily.” (completed)

Wings “People ask me a lot why I love him. Why I spend so much time chasing him when he never returns my feelings. It’s because I see something they don’t.” (on-going)

My Heart is Drenched in Wine “Wine and romance. More importantly, when you cut through my wine!fangirling, this is a story about Lovino and Antonio and how they find their way back together (in spite of the past and occasionally the present) as they attempt to make wine and sometimes love.” (completed)

Of Two Minds “Feliciano and Lovino are living on the streets, with a secret that keeps them from getting close to anyone. Will their lives get better or worse after being forced to join a pirate crew, and what will happen when their secret finally comes out? Rated T for some (minor) violence, Romano’s mouth, and some angsty feelings. Pirate AU.” (completed)

Beats of Fever “Antonio Fernández Carriedo is a doctor working in Madrid dealing with a crush on an Italian tourist when the tensions in Spain reach a head and Civil War breaks out.” (on-going)

All of Our Sins “Lovino is Catholic, but he’s not entirely sure what he believes. Nevertheless, he and his brother Feliciano are forced to attend confirmation classes. When Lovino meets their group leader- bizarre, cheerful Antonio; one of the first people to treat Lovino like he matters- things get complicated. When they find this church is much darker than it appears, things get terrifying. Fast.” (completed)

Es Sólo Tu Corazón “Lovino has been in love with Spain for as long as he can remember. All he wants is to be with his former caretaker, but he soon finds out that the Spain he knew as a child is no longer there…and the real one is far more dangerous.” (on-going)

There Goes My Life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

As We Were “Rich, bored and unhappy, Lovino Vargas is the heir to his grandfather’s wine brand. Antonio is the restless young traveller prone to attacks of claustrophobia. For them, falling in love is a journey. Literally. Spamano, Human AU, multi-chapter. Warnings for language and sexual themes.” (completed)

NekoRoma “Antonio has been feeling lonely with his recent break up with his on/off boyfriend. The solution: a new kitten that his boss doesn’t want. Just as he gets used to this cat, a new challenge is thrown at him. How do you teach a cat to be human?” (completed)

Summer Sensations “The hot summer nights of Madrid bring many things, but one very special night changes two lives forever. Lovino learns that love is not such a frivolous thing after all.” (completed)

Fools Like Us “What starts out as a normal Friday night for the “Bad Touch Trio” soon becomes an opportunity for Francis to use his favorite word in reference to his best friends. Unfortunately, Gilbert and Antonio couldn’t possibly have fallen for people who would return their feelings easily, but Francis is determined to help them out despite his own relationship-or lack thereof.” (completed)

Hear Me “Antonio and Lovino are trying their best to get by in high school, but between the stresses of grades, family, friends, and heartache, it’s a lot harder than it looks.” (completed)

Fame and Fortune “Lovino Vargas is a barkeeper and reluctant Stasi informant. As much as he despises what he does, he obeys the terrifying Red Army colonel, Ivan Braginsky. That is, until the secretive and frustratingly attractive Antonio Fernandez Carriedo arrives in his life and breaks all the rules. Inspired by the Elvis Presley song of the same name.” (on-going)

It’s all Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

My Antonio “Going against everything in his strict, Catholic upbringing, Lovino has fallen desperately into love and lust for his family’s Spanish stable boy, Antonio.” (completed)

Sound Life “Spain is dead, leaving Romano distraught and wishing for there to be a way for him to see his beloved Spaniard alive and healthy…Only to wake up in a strange alternate world… with another Spain seeking his affection.” (completed)

Possessively Scary “Romano begins college late with his brother after their nonno passes away. When entering, he meets a very strange Spaniard. The man is odd but still attractive at the same time. As they get closer, Romano learns more about Antonio and doesn’t know if he should be scared of the man or not. Can he get out of something he got himself into?” (on-going)

This Dance “Antonio wants Lovino to be his dancepartner at Austria’s ball. Lovino, struggling with his growing feelings of love and affection for everyone’s favorite tomato-bastard as always, agrees. Now, there could be worse things, right?” (completed)

Powdered Sugar “Truth, like powdered sugar, tastes sweet but goes down cold. If a spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down, we might need a bit more.” (completed)

Singles “Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert are three friends who suffered their first heartbreaks at the age of fifteen, and made a pact to never fall in love again. That will change for Antonio when he first lays eyes on a brown-haired young man in a club…” (completed)

A Heated Story “Sky High / superpower hs au. wip. Lovino Vargas is a new kid at Sky High with his brother. He has the power to control fire. Only one problem, he hates the heat. Spamano, and other ships. Doesn’t actually have anything to do with the movie, just used the school.” (on-going)

I Don’t Hate You “Lovino and his brothers face the unknown while on a mission to Earth. The Italian angel comes up against more than he bargained for when a dark angel takes a liking to him and now he and Feliciano might be cast out.” (completed)

Like all things, it ends “Lovino doesn’t want his family to know how much his childhood trauma still affects him and he does a good job at hiding it. That is, until he moves to a new town and meets Antonio, someone he is unable to hide anything from.” (completed)

Disegno e Colore “A young, apprenticing artist, Lovino craves rationality, perfection, and self-possession, and has curated his life to one day attain that. He never expected a chaotic and brash painter to barrel into his life and test everything Lovino thought he wanted and knew of himself, his art, and his heart.” (on going)

Land Beyond Dreams “Antonio is saved from death by someone he’d spoken to only a few times, but who lost his life in the process. Grief-stricken, he only wishes he could have gotten to know his savior, when his dreams suddenly become reality…or are they still only dreams?” (completed)

It’s All Antonio’s Fault “Condoms, footballs to the stomach, fake nurses, confusing hallways, and flying backpacks. Lovino Vargas’s first day at World Academy was already one of his worst, and he could only imagine that it would spiral downwards as he got to know the tomato bastard, otherwise known as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.” (on-going)

A tale of endurance “Lovino had no idea what to do. Knowing that your life will be over in half a year tends to do that to you. Well, one thing he knew for sure. No one would ever discover this until the day he was pushing daisies. And that was a fact.” (completed)

The Risk of Love “Romano is dead and Spain is broken, spiralling into the deep, blackness of depression. And as he locks himself from the outside world, isolating himself from his friends, from everyone, in his oblivion of pain, Romano find’s he’s the only one who can help. Only, how can useless ghost like him even dream to help the slowly dying love of his life?” (completed)

Dance with me “Lovino Vargas started taking tango lessons completely by accident. Who would have thought that one day he wouldn’t mind those hands roaming over his body? That he would be dancing with his teacher as if there was no one in the room but the two of them?” (on-going)

Fireflies “Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be his new teacher, what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?” (on-going)

El Corazón del Pirata “Fate is once kind, twice cruel. And Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo does not have a heart, nor does he fall in love with his prisoners. But Lovino Vargas might just be the fuel to his flame - certainly there’s more to him than meets the eye.” (completed)

More Than Lust “Why did the Spaniard always hope for the impossible? That Romano would come to him one day, confessing his feelings, and they would make LOVE? That they would cry out each others names, he could hold the Italian, wake up the next morning, and he would still be there?” (completed)

The Prince and the Pauper “When Prince Feliciano goes missing, it is up to a poor servant boy Romano to step in to take his place and thwart an evil plan to take over the kingdom. However, falling in love was something neither one anticipated. Based off of the Princess and the Pauper.” (completed)

Talking to My Shadow “Lovino spends his life telling doctors about his brother, Feliciano. They hear about his look-alike brother everyday but never see him. Lovino is finally taken to a new physiologist and he meets the doctor’s son, a springy little Spaniard who’s excited to help his new friend, no matter the difficulty. Will this illness mean a life time of seclusion for Lovino or can he win?” (completed)

Spend my time dancing “As much as Lovino loved seeing the upperclassman in his soccer jersey, he’d much rather help him take it off. It’s about time they started playing on the same field. AU. SpaMano. Various others. All’s fair in love and soccer.” (completed)

Maybe, Just Maybe “Romano couldn’t help but be instantly attracted to the stranger on the train, the one with bright green eyes and an unforgettable smile. How could something so simple end up changing his life so much?” (completed)

Dead Alone “Lovino drains the life from anything he touches, seriously. It seems that he’s the embodiment of death while his lively twin brother is his counterpart life. He has isolated himself from everyone, for their own protection. So what happens when a new transfer student decides to take an interest in him his freshman year of high school?” (on-going)

Lovino and the Conquistador “Lovino lived a life of simple pleasures; a good book, his own little world and an odd, but loving, family. However, in order to save his family, he must take their place as prisoner of a hideous beast within a gloomy castle. Based on “Beauty and the Beast” (completed)

Truth Be Told “The Well of Uncomfortable Truths is discovered & deals Spain a hard fact- "Whenever you said you loved him, you didn’t really mean it. You were thinking of his brother. They were empty words.” Can Romano be convinced about whom the Well was talking about?” (completed)

Scaliest “When his entire life is taken from him, Antonio vowed to slay the beast that ruined his life no matter the cost. But on his travels he meets a secretive, sassy bard who might be more helpful than either of them realize. Is vengeance the answer or is there more at stake?” (on-going)

All I’ve lost “Lovino Vargas has slowly fallen into the trap that is Anorexia. He meets Antonio who is a strangely kind kid. Lovino thinks maybe, just maybe…there is hope. Warnings: Depression, anorexia, bulimia, mental illness and bullying.” (completed)

Infection “Antonio didn’t know what to think of the man who randomly showed up in his home… completely naked. Yet, he still found himself drawn to this “Lovino”, only to be thrown into his worst nightmare.” (on-going)

Tomato Angel “What happens when Antonio get’s jealous? (Aftermath of ‘Awesome Being Evil’)” (completed)

Step-Lovers “King Romulus is getting married to Queen Isabel. While the wedding goes smoothly, things don’t go all that smooth for Antonio and Lovino. The heat is especially turned up when it’s decided that there will be a competition for who gets to be heir to the throne.” (completed)

There goes my life “Antonio, 26, a old gourmet chef, a bachelor who’s all party. Lovino a 20 y/o premed student who only has one goal, to be become a doctor. He is determined to let his feelings for the Spaniard fade away, but after receiving devastating news, a drunken one night stand leads to the end of life as Lovino knows it.” (on-going)

Broken Wings, Healed Hearts “Junior Lovino Vargas, a broken angel, has a dark secret he’s determined to keep to himself, now matter how much of an outcast it makes him. But will his new neighbor, Antonio, change that?” (completed)

The Reunion “Light or Dark?” Lovino asked. Feliciano studied him before answering. “Light. Light always wins” When Feliciano Vargas catches the eye of a mysterious man only by the name of “The Lord,” he finds himself and his brother on an adventure ending in Germany’s infamous Black Forest. However, the Lord’s affections are not what they appear to be and Lovino finds himself worried there is a worse threat other than some creep trying to get into his brother’s pants. (on-going)

Slowly But Surely In Love “Lovino Vargas turns fifteen, the age at which the words of peoples’ soul-mates say to them when they first meet is branded onto their wrists. Feliciano has a brand as soon as the hand strikes midnight, but why doesn’t Lovino?” (completed)

Life with Lyrics Lovino Style “Lovino struggles with what he believes is a one-sided crush and his completely oblivious, also entirely too cheerful, brother. Mentions of suicide, but not a death fic!” (completed)

Walking the Line “Maybe stumbling into Walmart in search of supplies during the end of the world wasn’t as good of an idea as Lovino initially thought. Nothing screamed desperate like raiding the aisles of a fucking Walmart for food while a hoard of the undead snarled at him from outside, but that didn’t seem to matter to the armed trio he stumbled into, or more specifically, the odd Spaniard munching on Skittles. His ideas were getting to be pretty lackluster these days.” (ongoing)

Hymn to the Sea “Please, call me Antonio,” he says. “Oh, and Lovino?” “What?” Lovino snaps, a little sharper than he wants when his brain has finally caught up to his embarrassment and he realizes he’s acting like a love-sick child. He finds he still can’t keep up when Antonio’s smile changes into something different: not the friendliness it was earlier nor the comforting warmth it was moments ago. No, this one is affectionate. “I prefer your smile over Feliciano’s any day,” he says, quiet and honest. (completed)

I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You “Throughout the 500 years they spent together, Antonio never stopped reminding Lovino of how special he was, and Lovino never stopped making Antonio the happiest man on earth.” (completed)

Lentamente “Antonio and Lovino are struggling with catastrophic life changes. A traumatic event leaves Antonio scared of his own shadow; a romantic betrayal destroys Lovino’s ability to trust people. And when coping seems impossible, can dance save them?” (completed)

We’d Be Together “Something felt off about Antonio’s new home. The stairs creaked, the windows groaned, and in the mirror he saw a face he didn’t know. The face was young but the gestures old; Toni began a romance untold. He felt an issue new to most… if only he could touch Lovino the ghost.” (completed)

Blessed WIth A Curse “Monsters are real… and they didn’t just hide in your closet or under your bed. Too bad they came in the form of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- a Spaniard too sexy for his own good. / AU Vampire!AntonioxLovino” (on-going)

Speak “Lovino is shy. So is Antonio. Oh dear…” (completed)

You Belong With Me “Lovino wished for a lot of things. He wished he had a family or food or fitting clothes or friends but mainly just wished to belong. He doesn’t quite get what he wished for when he meets filthy rich Antonio, who just came from Spain and has settled in the same town as the little thief. Still…it’s a start.” (completed)

The Witch of Sicily “There were still whispers, rumors that the witch of Sicily remained in that forest, cursing all who would come near. It was a place many feared to tread, treated almost as sacred ground. Only fools would dare incite the wrath of the witch by entering that place. Only fools…and pirates.” (on-going)

We the Dreamers “New York City, 1940: Antonio is a recently arrived refugee from Spain, a scarred soldier with firm political convictions. For Lovino, everything is pointless and nothing ever lasts. The two of them live, love and dream desperately, as World War Two threatens to take it all away.” (completed)

Guide Me “After witnessing a startling event, Lovino Vargas finds himself stricken with blindness from a psychological misfortune called ‘conversion disorder’. Without anyone to guide him, he is placed with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a novice seeing-eye counselor, who will try to help him regain his sight and if not, teach him how to live in the new dark, lonely world ahead of him.” (completed)

Pirate’s Lullaby “It was the last thing in the world that Lovino Vargas wanted. To fall in love with Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. But when the pirate takes him aboard his ship, Lovino learns that maybe it’s not so bad to be a pirate.” (on-going)

Infamous “Lovino was a childhood actor, but once the show he was a part of got canceled he thought he was free and could leave all the acting and fame up to his brother Feliciano. However, when a 'follow up’ episode is decided upon ten years later, he ends up going back. There he sees a familiar, face; Antonio Carriedo, a singer with his eye on Lovi making normal impossible” (completed)

Guilty Bliss “Lovino has had a drug problem for years that he’s never been able to stop. With his debts getting out of hand, Lovino finds himself in situations that made him wish he had quit.” (completed)

Bottoms Up! “Follow Lovino on his weird and, well, at least quite interesting trip around Europe in order to find out some of the greatest secrets ever about himself, Europe, tomato-shaped alarm clocks and the past of his lovely, but complicated Spanish partner.” (completed)

A Trip To Spain Could Only End In “Lovino is a foreign exchange student in Spain. Things were going just brilliantly before he happened upon a Spanish restaurant in the heart of Madrid where he laid eyes on a certain Spanish Sex God…” (completed)

The Pirates Treasure “Pirate Captain Antonio wants one thing, and one thing only; a mermaid. Boy or girl doesn’t matter, as long as they are royalty and can make him jewels.He’s got his wish, but dealing with this prince is going to be much harder than he thought.” (completed)

Strike a Pose, Fake a Smile “Antonio loves the stage; Romano hates it. So when he’s “convinced” into coming to drama club, he’s not gonna like it. In fact, he’s going to say things that he’ll regret. And because he’s such a good actor, this time Antonio believes him. Uh-oh.” (completed)

A Helping Hand “Antonio owns a cafe low on business. One day a strange boy comes in, running from a group of men and covered in wounds. Antonio offers for him to stay and repay him with work. As payment, the boy Lovino begins to make new dishes to bring more people into the cafe. Who is this boy and why won’t he tell Antonio anything but his name and age?” (completed)

A Beautiful Story “Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.” (completed)

Careless “This year, Antonio had priorities: grades, girlfriend and the Football competition, securing college with his two best friends! But that was before the Vargas moved in with all their drama including kidnapping, threats, and football talents. If anyone asks Lovino, not getting killed would be a clear ecstatic success. He is just what Antonio needed, or not.” (on-going)

This is it for now but I might update this if I get any suggestions, if I remember any fanfic that I missed or if I find any new good ones. If you’re an author and want me to add your fanfic or if you just want to suggest me one don’t be afraid to PM me! (because this is a masterlist after all)

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queenjunoking · 3 years

Text

Wolf Taming pt 40

CW: Noncon - Pain - Manipulation

I was woken up by a gentle knock at the door. I groaned and reached for my phone. It was six thirty. “Come in!”

The door swung open and a maid walked in, carrying a silver tray. “Good morning, Miss Z. Master Ray- Oh!” She looked away quickly and shook. “I’m sorry, Miss Z. I shouldn’t have looked.”

“What are you on abo- oh.” I looked down and remembered where I was. I never received my suit back last night and I wasn’t going to sleep in the dress. So I had just slept naked. I was surprised the maid made a big deal about it, but I suppose Flora and Rayne probably punished them for anything they could think of. “Whatever, don’t worry about it. What do you want?

She carefully avoided looking at me as she brought the tray over. “Breakfast, Miss Z. Waffles, scrambled eggs, bacon and fresh squeezed orange juice.” She placed it over my lap before removing the cover and taking a step back. “Master Rayne has suggested taking the next hour to prepare yourself as you see fit. In an hour Master Rayne and Miss Molly will be here to speak with you, then you’ll begin your… um… trial?”

“Thank you, you can go now.” She curtsied and left the room. I took a few bites of the food, but I wasn’t very hungry. I rarely ate a piece of toast for breakfast, let alone a meal. I just set it aside and took a quick shower, letting the cold water run over my body for a while.

It helped me get my focus. I was here to get Sasha back. Molly’s group had their reputation on the line. A group getting their reputation tanked was as good as done, no one would want to hire Molly again if they didn’t fulfill their side of the contract in a reasonable amount of time. It guaranteed that Rayne couldn’t play tricks and keep the clock going. It also meant that she thought I could break before I got Sasha back.

Flora’s art was horrid and Rayne wanted me to be the final piece of a collection. It wasn’t as simple as Rayne wanting to watch me suffer for who knows how long, she had to believe it was possible. Flora was going to be disappointed when this ended and I got to go home. That disappointment would turn against Rayne, she hated to disappoint Flora. There was no reason to risk it if she didn’t think it was possible to win.

I set aside the tray and went to take a shower. The cold water helped me collect my thoughts. The next few days would be rough, but nothing I wouldn’t be able to handle. Breaking someone worked best when they had no idea what was happening to them. Every breaker worked differently, but once you could identify what they were doing half of the problem was gone. I wasn’t some damsel being kidnapped off the street this time, I knew what was going to happen to me. I knew there was no point in begging during the process, not that I would. All Rayne’s breaker could do is try their best without being able to build off the fear of their target.

Eventually I turned off the water and dried off, I didn’t have much time left. I exited the bathroom and found some clothes on my bed. Nothing spectacular, just some jeans and a plain shirt. It wasn’t that I wanted something flashy, it just wasn’t something I expected Rayne and Flora to have around. They were always dressed up, Flora in various dresses that probably cost as much as a house and Rayne liked her suits.

I picked up the clothes and examined them. No underwear, but I doubt the breaker would keep me in the clothes I had for long, underwear seemed fairly pointless since it would have probably just been cut off.

I left my room and went to go find Rayne. I wanted to get everything out of the way as quickly as I could so things could start immediately. As I walked down the hallway I looked at Flora’s various pieces of art. Rayne’s game was ultimately to have me join them. A present to Flora

It did, however, make my mind start to wander. What methods would the breaker use? I did everything I could to keep the person I was breaking constantly stimulated and unable to cope. They couldn’t subject me to my methods, the contract required breaks. Fear was a popular option, but there wasn’t much that could be used against me. My fears were intangible, someone couldn’t simply drop spiders into the room and expect me to have a breakdown.

I was expecting pain. Rayne and Flora loved to watch people in agony and they were undoubtedly going to be watching the entire time. They were going to pick someone well versed in causing pain because it's what they would enjoy the most.

It was also the least threatening option. Sure, it would hurt, but they couldn’t maim me in a way that mattered or kill me. The fear of dying during the breaking process could be a powerful factor. It helped make the person you're breaking fall in line. It gave them the instinct to do whatever it took to stay alive. No order should be too demeaning, humiliating or painful to follow. The point of breaking should be for them to not even be capable of considering disobedience as an option. Without that threat all I had to do was weather the pain.

After wandering in the halls for a bit, I finally managed to find a breakfast nook that Rayne and Flora were sitting in. Flora noticed me first and waved. “Good morning, Z. We were going to come up and meet you, but this works too I suppose. How about you sit down.”

She gestured to a third seat at the table and I took it. “So how about we start?”

“Eager, I like that Z, but the contract strictly states when we can start.” Rayne looked over at me and took a sip of coffee. “But we can get the formalities out of the way first. You’ll be meeting the breaker I chose for you in a bit.”

“Another one of your little prodigies?” I might as well indulge Rayne in a conversation, it might help her get to the point.

“Unfortunately, no.” I could hear a touch of annoyance in her voice. “Mercy no longer lives in this region, Melinoë’s talents are useless for this particular task, and Arachne has vanished for the moment.”

“That is unfortunate, I’ve never met any of them before. So who did you manage to find?” A maid came by with a cup of coffee I didn’t ask for and placed it in front of me. I took a sip anyway, I didn’t like coffee but caffeine would be nice.

“I decided to look at the breakers at the Auction house. A few of your old colleagues showed interest unsurprisingly. Jax and Yuki were particularly interested in getting to see you again. Their methods didn’t really fit the bill though. Fear and temperature aren’t exactly helpful for this particular task.” Rayne shrugged and took another sip of coffee.

It didn’t surprise me that Jax and Yuki were interested, we never really got along. They were the prime example of a member taking their theme too far. Jax had gone under extensive body modifications to get jet black eyes and demon horns. His private room was set up like a cave in hell. The temperatures were barely tolerable, being over a hundred at all times. He convinced his targets they had died and gone to hell and once they completed the process they were getting a second chance at life.

Yuki worked on the opposite spectrum. White hair, crystal blue eyes, flowy white dresses. She kept her private breaking room barely above freezing. She studied her victims thoroughly, using knowledge of their lives to torment them as they just tried to keep warm. They’d repeat phrases they were given and list wrongs they had committed so it would sink in that they deserved this. The room would get warmer as they learned to follow rules and answered questions the way Yuki wanted them too. It was to show them how good it felt to follow orders.

It didn’t surprise me that the two started to date when I was about to leave.

“Not interested in leaving someone in a freezer?” There was a kind of surreal feeling talking about what kinds of torture I might have been subjected too for the next few days.

“Talk about boring. No, I made a deal with a new breaker at the auction house.” Rayne smiled and took a bit of her toast. I couldn’t imagine what kind of person new to the auction house would take an offer from Rayne that could backfire so easily. They were either very confident or very stupid. “Come now, Z. Not going to ask who?”

“If they’re new to the auction house then I don’t know them. What use is it for me to ask who they are?”

“My, you were so much nicer yesterday when you were just trying to get what you wanted from us.” Rayne pushed her plate away and looked me up and down.

“Be nice, Raindrop. You were just trying to get what you wanted from her as well.” Flora placed her hand over Rayne’s and looked at her. “Who did you get?”

“I think Z wants it to be a surprise, my alluring azalea. How about I wait to reveal it?” Rayne tipped Flora’s chin up to kiss her, but I could see from here that she was pouting.

“Ahem.” That dry monotone voice broke through the moment. I looked over at the door and saw that Molly was standing there. “Good morning Master Rayne, Lady Flora, Z.” She looked around, probably expecting Briar to be here. She simply shrugged and approached the table. “While the contract has been signed and I don’t have to offer you this opportunity, Lady Flora asked me to give it to you since you signed the contract so quickly.”

“And what offer is that?” I looked up at Molly. Her voice was making me feel tired, a feat in itself. She should record audiobooks for people to listen too at night.

“You have one chance to back out of the deal without penalty. The paperwork will be disposed of and it’ll be like this never happened. No evidence will be left behind.” She placed the paperwork back down in front of me to look through, but I just handed it back.

“I’m here to get Sasha back. I’m not backing out.” I glared at Molly, the offer felt insulting.

“Very well.” She pushed her glasses back up her face. “If you would, a maid will escort you to the room you will be spending most of your time in. Everything will begin in ten minutes.”

A maid walked up, curtsied, and signaled for me to follow her. I got up and started to leave without saying another word. Unfortunately Rayne still had more she wanted to say.

“You’ll have to excuse my breaker if they’re a little overeager. I promised them your epithet when they break you. You won’t be needing it once you’re part of Flora’s collection.”

{&}

I had expected Briar to meet me at some point, but she was nowhere to be seen. The maid stopped in front of a door and stepped aside, gesturing for me to go inside. I looked around one final time before I entered. It was probably too much to assume Briar would actually stay, she had nothing to gain by helping me.

The room I stepped into was clinical. White tiles on the floor and the walls. It would be easy to clean them of any blood spilt in here. I saw a few stations set up already. I saw a wooden horse with weights and shackles next to it. Areas for a strappado bondage setups. There was scattered bondage equipment from gags to cattle prods and everything in between.

The room was kind of a mess if I had to be honest. No coherency in aesthetic unlike most breakers. Whoever Rayne hired seemed to be into generic torture instruments. It was unsurprising, it was the only real option on the table to have a chance of winning.

“Good morning, Z.” A cheerful voice came across the room. I watched a blond haired woman walk into the room. She wore her hair in a ponytail and was slightly taller than me. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you from the auction house. Despite everything I’m going to be doing to you, I want you know its an honor that I get to be the one who finally breaks the Torturer.”

“And you are?” I decided to brush her off. It wasn’t my problem that she seemed to want acknowledgement.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before looking at me. She probably had a short fuse if asking who she was was enough to push her off balance. “My name is Mistress Sonja. Soon to be Mistress Sonja the Torturer. It has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“I’m sure someone like you would think so, Sonny.”

“It’s Sonja and what is that supposed to mean?” She was already getting frustrated. It would work out best for me if she was. If all she did was inflict pain then she could only do so much at a time. It would be good for me if she went overboard quickly and was forced to have to stop early.

“Miss Z, Mistress Sonja, it is now Eight.” Molly’s voice filled the room. I looked up and saw what was obviously one way glass about a floor up. It was probably to give Rayne and Flora a good view of whatever happened in here on a daily basis. “Our team will now start working to get your slave back, Z. Sonja, you may begin.”

Sonja took a crop off of a nearby table and started to walk towards me. She had a smile on her face I was familiar with. The smile of a person who didn’t get what the point of this process was. Someone who enjoyed it for the wrong reasons.

“So, Z.” She placed the end of the crop under my chin and tried to push me head up a bit, but I didn’t budge. “Hmph. How about you be a good girl and let’s just get started. What do you think is more fun, a hundred lashes or a ride on the wooden pony?”

She really didn’t understand how this was going to work.

I smiled at her, took a step back, then thrust my knee into her gut as hard as I could.

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perspective-series · 5 years

Text

Zapped Perspective (1)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Fear, arguments, treating someone like a pet, and feeling helpless.

(Check the reblog for the links to any future chapters)

Time for a brand new story!

——————————————————————————————————–

“Thanks again for the meal, Pat,” Virgil said, standing up where he was on the kitchen counter. Patton smiled, waiting until Virgil took a few steps back to grab the empty saucer dish.

“Not a problem at all, Virge! You know you’re welcome here anytime.” Patton said, turning to rinse the plate off and put it in the sink. Virgil watched with a smile, yeah, he did know that. Patton had found him close to a year ago now but not once since their initial first meeting had Patton touched him without his consent. Not only that, but Patton left him alone. Only talking to Virgil when Virgil himself initiated it. It was honestly perfect and Virgil found himself wondering all the time how he had managed to find the one human who understood and respected his boundaries.

“I should probably head out,” Virgil spoke, gathering up his bag. Patton just nodded, still smiling. There was no arguing or trying to stop him. Virgil knew full well that Patton was going to let him go.

“Bye kiddo!” Patton waved as Virgil disappeared back into the walls. Yes, Virgil really did have a great thing going here.

So it was strange when, that night, he had a dream. Well, more of a nightmare, really. Of a world where borrowers had been found out and turned into pets for humans.

***

Meanwhile, in an alternate universe…

“Alright, Microsoft Nerd.” Roman chuckled, scooping Logan up off the desk. “Time for bed.”

“Roman!” Logan gave an exasperated groan, watching helplessly as Roman closed the book and put it away. “I was still reading that.”

“And you would’ve been reading it all night if I didn’t stop you.” Roman teased, heading into his bedroom. He knew his little Logan too well; the borrower was a non-stop machine until Roman stepped in. He tussled Logan’s hair, pressing the incredibly tolerant borrower to his cheek as his own version of his goodnight hug.

Logan, to his credit, knew better than to try to protest Roman’s incessant touches. Squirming would only result in an increase of contact. Or worse, tickling. But, as Logan was let off in front of the dollhouse-like confinement that served as his stationary home, Logan had to admit to himself that the contact was far from unbearable. In fact, Logan had grown rather fond of Roman. His owner was much more lenient than other humans Logan had seen.

Logan supposed it was this line of thinking that prompted his strange dreams. Of all things, Logan imagined he was a wild borrower, still living in hiding and trapped in a world of floorboards and dust.

***

When Virgil woke up the next morning, he didn’t recognize a thing. He blinked and then promptly jumped out of bed, looking at his surroundings in a growing panic. This was not his home in the walls. This wasn’t the place he had fallen asleep in. Had he been moved? But how? No one except another borrower should be able to reach him in the walls and why would another of his own kind move to...wherever this was.

Virgil wasn’t even sure what this place was. It looked so much like a human’s house but...off, somehow. And he wasn’t just talking about how everything was his own size. What was happening?

“Logan?” A knocking came through the wall, rattling Virgil’s surroundings. “Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to be awake. I’ve even brought caffeine as a peace offering.”

Virgil flinched away from the wall, taking several steps back from the direction the voice had come from. What? Who was Logan? Was that a human? It had to be but…

No, no time to think. He had to find a way out of here before the human saw him. He looked around the room, noticing the door and going through it. He found himself in a hallway and headed for the stairs that went down.

“Logan?” Roman knelt down, looking through the windows to try and get a read on where his pet could be hiding. He sounded far too active for this time of day.

A giant eye suddenly appeared in one of the windows and Virgil was quick to duck behind a piece of furniture. It took him a moment to realize that he was hiding behind a borrower sized couch. Huh.

“...are you hiding?” Roman frowned, tilting his head in confusion. Logan never hid. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Just go away. Leave me alone. Virgil thought. From his place behind the couch, his eyes scanned the wall he was facing. There had to be a way out of here? Right? Some sort of door-there.

A door near a window told him that it led out of wherever he was. Not wasting any time, Virgil stood and ran for it.

“Woah!” Roman leaned back, watching the shadowy figure dart towards the back door. Thinking quickly, Roman set down the mug on his dresser and came around to wait at the entrance.

Virgil ran out but came to a screeching halt as he realized the human was now in front of him. He looked up into his eyes, shaking. And then he turned and tried to run back into the house.

“What the-?!” Roman gasped, grabbing up the tiny that was quite obviously not his Logan. He brought the borrower up, inspecting it for some sort of tag. “Who the hell are you?”

Virgil yelped as he was picked up and struggled against the grip. He was reminded of the one and only time he was in Patton’s grip. Of course, it hadn’t lasted long but he had a feeling this would. “No! L-Let me go!”

“Come on, who do you belong to?” Roman pressed. “What are you doing in this house? Where’s Logan?”

Virgil paused briefly, taken aback by the question. “What? I-I don’t belong to anybody!” What was going on? This human clearly knew about borrowers but how?

“What?” That statement threw Roman off almost more than the appearance of the strange man. “You’re wild? I didn’t know there were still wild borrowers!”

Virgil flinched at the use of his kinds name. It was one thing to know about tiny people, but to know their name. Whoever this Logan character was must have spilled the secret. But what this human said next threw him off even more.

“What...What are you talking about? All borrowers are wild!” Or they were supposed to be.

“Um, nooooooooooo.” Roman drew out the word with a scoff. “Where have you been living, under a rock? I suppose under the floorboards is more accurate. Stop fooling around, what’s going on?”

“Th-That’s what I want to know!” Virgil said, picking up his struggles. He just wanted to go home, maybe see Patton to get his mind off of this crazy human. “No one is supposed to know that we exist!”

Roman looked pityingly down at this borrower struggling in his grip. Had the poor thing hit its head and gotten a horrible case of ancient amnesia or something?

“Everyone knows about borrowers,” Roman explained gently, waving his arm behind him. “We’ve known about them for decades now. Why do you think my house is borrow-ified?”

“Wh-What?” Virgil looked around, seeing what Roman was talking about. “No, no that isn’t possible. You-You’re lying! Humans always lie! You probably just found one of us and are trying to convince me for some reason!” That...That had to be it.

“Oh, yes, because that makes sense.” Roman rolled his eyes. “I don’t even know who you are! And frankly, I don’t care.” Fed up with this nonsense, Roman turned back to the dollhouse and began unlatching the side. “Logan? Logan, are you in there?”

“There’s no one in there! He probably ran away first chance he got!” Virgil yelled, wishing he could do the same thing. It was obvious this human was crazy and he did not want to be around to find out just how much.

Roman frowned, beginning to worry when he swung the house open and it was confirmed empty. A few of Logan’s notes were scattered from the movement, but Roman couldn’t worry about that now.

“Did you see him?” Roman turned back to the borrower, now his only lead. “Where did he go?”

“No, I didn’t. And like I said, he’s probably long gone. And good for him, our kind deserve to be free.” Virgil spoke, finding it weird about how brave he was feeling. Perhaps the fear hadn’t sunk in all the way yet.

Roman gave the borrower a warning squeeze, an irritated growl rising at the back of his throat.

“I don’t know what your deal is, but you’d better knock it off,” Roman warned, before standing up to begin searching the house for any sign of his own borrower companion.

Virgil let out a small gasp of pain as the human’s hand tightened around him for a moment. His fear rose up as he realized just how much power this human had over him. He shut his mouth, not wanting to get the life squeezed out of him.

“Logan? Looooogan?” Roman called out, traversing from room to room and careful to watch his step. Where could that little borrower be?

***

Logan gave a shiver, awoken from his slumber by a slight chill. Roman must have forgotten to close the window. However, as Logan opened his eyes, he was startled to notice his surroundings were not the familiar decor of his home. In place of his bed, a discarded glove was the surface upon which Logan slept. He cringed, quickly standing up to get off the filthy thing.

A small amount of light filtered in through a few slits in the wall, and Logan took in his surroundings with hesitation. It seemed as though someone had compiled an assortment of trash to serve as a borrower room, almost like Logan’s ancestors used to do before being inevitably discovered.

Was that what this was- an old borrower home? But why was he here? Where was Roman?

“Hello?” Logan called out, cautiously peeking out into the other rooms. “Is anyone home?”

Logan pushed on one of the doors connected to the complex, surprised to find light flooding in. Logan blinked, stepping out to see he was now standing on a counter he didn’t recognize.

Patton walked into the kitchen, intent on starting breakfast when he noticed a tiny figure on the counter. He grinned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Morning Vir-” He cut himself off when he actually took in the figure. That...wasn’t Virgil. He froze in the middle of the kitchen, not knowing what to do.

“Excuse me.” Logan turned to the human, unafraid to speak up. He lived in a world of humans, after all. Though usually Logan only spoke with Roman, Logan knew desperate times called for desperate measures. “Where am I?”

Patton blinked at the bravery of the borrower. Thrown off guard by it. “Uhh, you’re in my house?”

“Do you know how I got here?” Logan asked. “Or perhaps, better to focus on the future. Do you know a Roman Prince? Or how I could set about getting to 421 Apsley Alley, Lightwilde?”

“Oh, uh that name and place don’t sound familiar,” Patton admitted. “But I could look it up for you?” Anything to help out a borrower. Though it was weird if this borrower was, in fact, asking about another human. Were they like him and Virgil?

“Yes, please do.” Logan gave him a smile. “I have no recollection of how I managed to get separated from my human but it is of the utmost importance I return to his care.”

“Right, uh, let me just…” Patton took out his phone and opened Google. He glanced over at the borrower. “Did Virgil send you to me for help?” It was the only reason he could think that the borrower would actually come to him.

Logan blinked. “Who’s Virgil?”

Patton frowned. “Oh, I guess not then. Uh, he’s my friend! And a fellow borrower like you!” Patton explained as he started to type the place Logan had told him into his phone.

“I see.” Logan nodded politely. It was uncommon but not unheard of for a human’s borrower to be referred to as a ‘friend’; indeed, Roman had done it himself on a few occasions.

Patton waited for his phone to load and then frowned as the results came up. “Uh, what was the address again?” Maybe he typed it in wrong.

“421 Apsley Alley, Lightwilde.” Logan prattled off from memory. Roman had ensured Logan knew it for just such a scenario.

Patton typed it in again for good measure but the result was the same. “Uh, it...it says that place doesn’t exist,” Patton said with furrowed eyebrows, looking back down at the borrower.

“What?” Logan gave his own look of confusion. “Perhaps you spelled it incorrectly. If you would allow me, I can type it in myself.”

“Okay.” Patton set his phone down on the counter, letting the borrower at it.

Logan typed it in, startled to find the same result. He typed it in again, and again. How was this possible? It couldn’t be… there had to be a logical explanation. Shoddy cell service? Low WiFi connection? Looking at the device neither were valid but there had to be something. According to this device, it was as though his home didn’t exist.

Seeing the borrower getting more and more frustrated, Patton bit his lip. “Maybe you're remembering it wrong?” Patton suggested.

“I’m remembering it perfectly.” Logan snapped, before realizing what he had done. “I- I’m sorry, I just- I’m not-” Logan shook his head, too frazzled to think correctly. He turned to the search bar, now attempting to find any indication of his human at all.

“Oh, hey it’s okay,” Patton said, noticing his distress. He thought for a moment. “Do you have his phone number?” Patton asked, figuring if he had the address he would have that.

“I, yes, of course, I apologize.” Logan hit his forehead. He clicked into the phone app, tapping away the ten familiar digits. He pressed speakerphone, knowing it was polite to include a human in his conversation when using their device.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

Suddenly, it was picked up. “Hello?” A woman’s voice answered and Patton blinked. Well, that definitely wasn’t Roman.

“Uh, hi.” Patton went ahead and spoke. “Is a Roman Prince there?”

The line was silent for a moment. “Sorry, you have the wrong number.”

“We do not.” Logan insisted, knowing for a fact this was Roman’s cell. He had called it just yesterday. “Where is Roman? We desire to speak with him. Inform him it’s Logan, his borrower.”

“His what?” The woman asked and, in a panic, Patton hit the end call button after a rushed goodbye. He turned towards the borrower.

“Wh-Why would you say that?” Patton asked, knowing very well that borrowers were supposed to be a secret.

“Say what?” Logan frowned, unsure where he had committed a misdemeanor. “We need to get a hold of Roman, I’m merely attempting to acquire information.”

“Well yeah, but you can’t tell some random woman that you’re a borrower. I mean, I can’t believe I’m actually telling a borrower this but you guys are supposed to be a secret.” Patton was sure Virgil would not be happy to have his kind be revealed. Especially by another borrower.

Logan raised an eyebrow. Had he stumbled upon some sort of intense historical LARPing? It would certainly make sense, considering the borrower hovel Logan had woken up in, but he was in no mood for this behavior.

“Look, I am not here to play games.” Logan said sternly. “Help me get home and you can return to your strange role-play scenario.”

“R-Role play scenario? I-I don’t understand.” Patton said, eyebrows furrowed in immense confusion. What was this borrower talking about?

“The borrower secrets have not been relevant for nearly a century.” Logan reminded him. Unbelievable he had to give a history lesson at a time like this.

“...What?” Okay, now Patton was really confused. “Borrower secrets are still very much secret, unless you keep trying to talk to everyone about it.”

“I told you, I’m not playing games.” Logan’s mouth formed a thin line in his frustration. “Please cease this behavior. I’m not giving away any secrets that aren’t public knowledge.”

Patton looked into the borrowers eyes. “You...really don’t believe me.” Patton honestly was so confused. Why did this borrower believe that everyone knew about borrowers? “Look, just look up borrowers on google and see for yourself.” Patton said, motioning towards his phone.

Logan did so, surprised to find no results. Surely this only confirmed his doubts about the functionality of the device.

“I regret to inform you, your cellular device is faulty.” Logan stepped away from it.

“It-It really isn’t.” Patton let out a sigh as he took his phone back. How could he prove it to him? He glanced into the living room, at the tv. “Uh, how many times do you see borrowers on tv? Like on shows or commercials and things?” Patton asked.

“I suppose fairly frequently, why?” Logan gave him a suspicious glance.

Patton nodded and ran to get the remote from the coffee table. He placed it in front of Logan. “Can you see the TV okay from here?” Patton asked.

“I suppose.” Logan answered, still confused as to what the human was implying.

“Great! Now, uh, just go ahead and turn it on. Flip through some channels. You’ll see what I mean.” Patton said, sitting back and out of the way so Logan could see the TV better.

Logan did as was requested. Just as Patton had hinted, there were no borrowers present on screen. Logan had to give this LARP session credit for taking the time to create false advertisements.

“Yes yes, very clever.” Logan turned the television off. “Can I go home now? I wish to take no part in this.”

Patton deflated. “You still don’t believe me?” Well, this was one stubborn borrower.

“Look, clearly you want my participation, but I will not indulge you.” Logan narrowed his gaze. “How did you bring me here? Where is Roman? What occurred last evening?”

Patton put his hands up at all the questions. “Now wait a second. I don’t have anything to do with this! I didn’t bring you here and if I knew where your friend was, I would tell you.” Patton tried to explain.

“What’s with the borrower hovel?” Logan gestured back towards the wall. “And the secrecy? And the cell phone?”

“Well, that’s where Virgil lives.” Patton explained. “And I’m trying to tell you. There isn’t anything wrong with my phone. And before Virgil, I never even knew borrowers existed. And that hasn’t changed for anyone else.”

“You keep mentioning this ‘Virgil’.” Logan realized. “Where is he? Perhaps he has some answers as well.”

“Well, he should be around. But I don’t really have a way to contact him. He usually just comes and goes when he pleases.” Patton would never even think about keeping Virgil here against his will. They both were perfectly happy with the arrangement they set up.

“Ah, yes, the ‘wild borrower’ act.” Logan rolled his eyes. For a moment, he had forgotten this tedious charade. “Well when does he usually appear? Where can I find him?”

“Uh, you can look in the walls? That’s where he lives, anyway. And he never leaves the building.” That’s what Virgil had told him, anyway.

“I’m not about to traverse the walls, my clothes will become soiled.” Logan wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Well, you could wait then? He usually shows up by dinner time, at the latest.” Patton said with a shrug, not knowing what else to do. It was also weird hearing a borrower talk about not wanting to go into the walls. When they lived there.

“I...suppose.” Logan relented. He was certainly against the idea of waiting around here so long, already missing Roman, but it seemed this human wasn’t going to provide him with any answers.

“Great! So, uh, I guess until then...breakfast?”

#gt #Giant/tiny #thomas sanders #sanders sides #infinitesimal!sides #au #borrowers #alternate realities #alternate dimensions #human!roman #human!patton #borrower!logan #borrower!virgil #platonic #prinxiety #logicality #zapped perspective #part 1

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tibbinswrites · 4 years

Note

can i ask for a prompt 10 + destiel? :) hope it's a good one to write to!

Hi there Nonnie! Sorry it’s taken me SO LONG, I’ve been working on it since you sent me this, honest! You did pick a very good one. It was supposed to be funny, but then I made it a little angsty because hey, I’m me and I gotta ;)

I hope you like it :D

(prompts are open. Send me a number between 1 and 635 and I’ll write a thing for you)

I’ve now done prompts for: #1, #2, #10, #78, #170 and #502 but all the others are fair game :D

Prompt #10. “I don’t want your pity, I want your absence.”

“Ugh,” Cas groaned. His voice was somewhat muffled by the wood of the table but it was still more than enough to make Dean jump out of his skin as he flipped on the kitchen light.

“Jesus! What the hell, Cas, did you sleep here?”

“Angels don’t sleep,” Cas insisted, peeling his face from the table just to glare, then he seemed to run out of energy and thunked it back down again. “I did, however, go through several short periods of unconsciousness.”

Dean chuckled and moved forward to start cleaning away the bottles from their impromptu ‘Jack is back’ party.

“Overdid it, huh? Guess it doesn’t quite take a liquor store these days.” He kept the teasing light as he placed each bottle into the trash with the minimum amount of clinking that he could. He was actually in a good mood, which was rare for him in the mornings and even rarer before his first cup of coffee, although he was pretty sure he’d drunk about the same amount that Cas had, he wasn’t feeling any of the ill effects. Well there was something to be said for his crazy high tolerence level.

“Why do humans ingest poison as means of celebration?” Cas mumbled into the table as Dean switched the coffee machine on, the burble apparently rousing Cas from his fugue state between sentences.

“Why did you?” Dean shot back, amused.

“Because I was unaware of the severity of the consequences,” Cas huffed, very much not amused.

“Aww, your first ever hangover. I’m so proud.” He wiped away an imaginary tear. Cas grumbled something that he couldn’t make out. Grinning, Dean fished out two mugs from under the sink and proceeded to fill them both with steaming, caffeinated sludge, strong enough to bend a teaspoon and exactly what Cas needed.

“I don’t know what you just said but I’m pretty sure it was rude. And here I was feelin’ sorry for you.”

“I don’t want your pity, I want your absence.”

Dean let out a loud gasp and clutched dramatically at his chest. “That hurts, Cas,” he said. “I guess you won’t be wanting any coffee then.”

Cas made a sound then that was as mournful as it was angry, like he was pissed at Dean that he’d ruined his own chance to get a nice thing. Fortunately for him, Dean was enjoying this too much to leave Cas to stew in his hangover. He set a mug in front of the angel and sat down opposite, sipping from his own and watching as the smell hit Cas’ nose and it twitched like a rabbit’s. Cas’ head slowly rose and then one forearm draped around the mug to pull it closer while his mouth fastened over the lip of it, slurping down whatever he could without actually tilting the container.

Delighted with this entire turn of events (that he wished he’d brought his phone into the kitchen to film), Dean sat quietly, taking small sips from his own mug and watching Cas transform from hibernating bear to bleary humanoid in a few short minutes.

“You don’t have to look so pleased,” Cas groused when he’d levelled up to actually being able to hold the mug. “This means my powers are getting weaker. This shouldn’t affect me.”

Dean shrugged, though Cas’ point did pluck at something uncomfortable in his gut. “It is what it is. It’s actually good to have an indicator of what you can still do and what you can’t.”

Cas bristled, “I assure you, I am perfectly capable—”

“Not saying you’re not,” Dean interrupted, holding up a placating hand. “You’re plenty capable with or without your mojo. I’m just saying, it’s good to know your limits.”

“Processing alcohol quickly shouldn’t be a limit, it should be an innate biological response that comes with being an angel.” Cas insisted, and despite his outward irritation, the way his shoulders hunched over the mug told Dean that he was more vulnerable than angry.

“Look, I know it’s an adjustment. But maybe you should figure out what other things have changed too. While we’re waiting for shit to go down you’re probably as safe as you can get. It’s better to figure it out now so that later you’ll know what you need to work around rather than trying to do something in the moment and realising you can’t. That hesitation’ll get you killed.”

“I know that healing is becoming more difficult.” Cas said into his coffee. Then he looked up at Dean with eyes full of fear. “I keep thinking, what if you get hurt? What if you get hurt and you’re dying and I can’t help you?”

Dean sighed heavily and set down his mug to reach across the table and take one of Cas’ hands in his own. “What if you get hurt and you’re dying and you can’t help yourself?” Dean said quietly. “It could happen, Cas. It has happened. Hell, I’ve had nightmares about it. But that worry, caring about people, wanting to save them even when you can’t… buddy that’s just part of being human.”

“But I’m not human.”

“Yes you are.” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ hand in both of his own, marvelling that Cas was letting him, that he wasn’t pulling his hand away with disgust in his eyes. “In all the ways that matter, you’re more human than any of us. And y’know, maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.”

Cas just stared at him, wonder creeping into his expression. “No,” he said. And then he smiled down at their clasped hands. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing at all.”

#spn fanfic #prompts #prompt #prompt me #TibbinsWrites #TibbinsAnswers #supernatural #Destiel

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mininky · 5 years

Text

Love is for the birds baby!

Summary: You refuse to believe in love. It’s a concept created by big corporations like hallmark to get sad saps like you to buy their shit. But it’s all fake. You’re convinced of that at least until a series of events with a certain tattoo artist who you loved to hate makes you question everything you’ve ever known.

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yoongi x (fem) reader

Genre/Warnings: Romance, slow burn, fluff, comedy, smut warnings include: unsafe sex (always wear a condom), oral sex (male & fem receiving), multiple orgasms, spanking, light breath play, mentions of squirting. Non smut warnings for lots of cussing. Lots.

Word Count: 13.3K

A/N: A special shout out to @mzpandylu for inspiring me with such odd dialogue. Also challenge accepted, a quivering starfish is mentioned.

Love is a completely abstract and intangible concept to you, at least romantic love is. There are many forms of love. Familial love is a concept you sort of understand, let's just say that your home life wasn't the greatest but you do at least understand the concept. Platonic love you completely understand. But romantic love? You very secretly yearn to understand it, desperately trying to figure out how the fuck some people get so lucky that the spark happens. You've dated, sure. But try as you might none of them have ever made your head spin or your heart sing. Lust you get. You've had plenty of flings and even some longer relationships, but love? Love is for the birds baby.

You refuse, absolutely refuse, to admit that you have in any way shape or form an interest in this bizarre concept that is the investment and endeavor of romantic love. You've carefully hidden away all of your fanfics and all of your shojo mangas and all of the things that others would say is honestly completely normal to keep questions at bay. You know that your friends are interested in love, and unlike you they have no shame in admitting it. They talk about it all the time. They fall in 'love' with each man they date. But you're convinced that's not love. It's something more than like, sure you'll give them that but you're sure that it'll all end eventually. Love isn't sustainable because it's all a lie. Maybe you're too romantic at being romantic, perhaps you've just been suckered into all these stories into believing that a whirlwind romance is possible until one day the crushing realization that it wasn't possible occurred. That the sparks of electricity and burning hot embers of passion aren't sustainable and aren't indicative of love.

You were twenty, he was twenty-one. The two of you had been dating mutually for three years at that point, a lifetime in college years. Billy Johnson. Fucking Billy. He was smart and funny and he actually knew what a clit was, and he kissed you under the night stars and made you feel like you were in love. Maybe you were, but you like to think that the feelings you felt weren't actually that strong. It made the fallout easier. Which brings you to the fallout, that realization that romantic love is all a big corporate lie to sell shitty grocery store roses and cute snuggly teddy bears and dime back novels to sad sops like you. A marketing ploy. Not a reality. Fuck Plato for being the first to sell the idea of soulmates, and fuck Billy too. Billy Johnson was a cruel heartless asshole who fucked your best friend. And in one day you lost two loves, one romantic and one platonic. In turn, you gained a distinct hatred for romantic concepts and a world-weary view on relationships, waiting for the other shoe to drop every time you encountered someone new.

You dated again after that, but now at the young age of twenty-six, you've decided that it's time to give up. Or maybe you gave up after Billy. You can't say you've ever actually given it a real try after that if you're being honest. You know when to call it quits. You refuse, absolutely refuse, to be a corporate sellout. And your feelings are in no way shape or form reflective of the animosity at being broken up with by Johny last week because you were too 'sarcastic' in the middle of your vacation to Busan. Too sarcastic your ass. You'll show that motherfucker sarcastic. God, sorry, you're getting off track here. Where were you again?

Ah yes, love is for apparently everyone that isn't you. So you'll just be a cat lady. An affection earned entirely by ear scritches and feeding them. A reward system that makes sense. You take care of them and they tolerate you. Now that you understand. That makes sense. Why in the ever loving fuck would you try romance again when instead you can have a mutually beneficial understanding with something as cute as a cat that can't tell you 'I think you're a bitch' in a language you understand? Fuck Johnny, and Billy. And every other man for that matter.

You're ruminating in anger as you order your coffee, eyes staring straight into the young and timid barista as you slap down the change. Poor kid, it's not his fault but today you just hate the world. You try to smile but you're pretty sure that just scares him more if the way his eyes go large and round in fear is anything to go by. Christ, you need to work on your people skills. And you're totally not thinking that because of that dick weasel who you've decided will no longer be named.

Normally once you get your caffeine fix you're in a much better mood, but today the only thing you want to do is karate chop your own throat. Or maybe just play Red Dead Redemption 2 and kill a bunch of people in a completely legal way. Not online though, you really don't need another 13-year-old boy slurring about how much girls suck unless you want to unleash the crazy bitch inside of you to the point of no return. But unfortunately, you have bills to pay. Caffeine fixes to afford. Student loans to pretend you'll someday actually pay off except interest is a bitch. Which means going to work. Normally something you love, but today you're really not in the mood to edit another shitty sci-fi story where the physics of breasts go beyond the dudebro fedora lover that wrote the shitty thing.

Be an editor they said. You love books they said. You'll be great they said. They hadn't warned you that being an editor at a major publishing house still meant reading through a painful amount of crap writing that you would, in turn, make all pretty and nice and somewhat more presentable garbage for public consumption with no acknowledgment or credit for all the hours you spent trying not to bash your screen in with your face. At least you were close enough to walk to work.

You grab your piping hot venti quad shot vanilla latte (with soy) as you go back out into the frigid air. Your eyes are cast down on the pavement, trying not to bump into too many of the zombie state morning foot traffic as you make your way into the office. At least you have an office of your own, a salvation of peace and quiet away from prying eyes that allows you to wallow in self-pity safely. The rest of the day goes by in a blur, your normally somewhat antisocial personality becomes far more present as you hide away from even your beloved breakroom coffee pot to avoid too many interactions. You just knew that you would end up running into Susan. Nice gal, but she talks way too much and she set you up with Johnny no wait, the douche canoe. You forgot he must never be named again. The last thing you need is her bringing up how he dumped in you in the middle of your vacation.

You're also the last one to leave tonight. For someone who didn't really want to step foot into the building, you sure do seem to be having a hard time getting out of here. But there are deadlines to meet and your vacation meant that there's a pileup of work that needs to be done. That and you really don't feel like going into your empty apartment to binge watch on Netflix while you host another internal pity party.

By the time you're finally out the door and into the freezing winter night, you can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. Or that might just be the joint pain that this super shitty winter is causing. That's another thing the world lied about, joint pain isn't just for old people. It's apparently also for future cat spinsters who hate everything no matter their current age. Your head is stuck on the last chapter you were editing, trying to make sense of how exactly you might be able to convince the author to scrap the whole damn thing politely as your nose picks up on the smell of a cigarette wafting over. Your stomach rumbles, brain shutting off as fingers twitch. God, it's been two years since you stopped smoking but it smells so painfully fucking good right now.

Your face whips up as you see the small trail of smoke wafting over to you. It's the guy from the tattoo shop, Min fucking Yoongi. You should've known. The guy is hot you'll give him that. Eyes just sharp enough to give him that bad boy image when paired with his full sleeve tattoos and the crawling cherry blossoms on his neck. The chronic scowl that says 'try me' in a way that oddly makes him hotter. Hair that looks like he spends way too much time on usually. Today however he's decked out in a beanie and black leather jacket with pants just tight enough to make you wish he would turn around and walk away. But in the last year since you've unfortunately gotten to know him you know that he's every bit as snarky, bitchy, and firey as you. He's also as much bite as he is bark, although so far you've never been the one he's pointed his bite at.

"(Y/N), I see you were working late again." He takes a lazy drag on his cigarette, eyes staring straight through you as his lips quirk up into a smirk.

"Yoongi." Your eyes narrow in on his, fingers twitching at your side as you bite down the incessant desire to beg for a cigarette. You won’t break, especially not in front of him. Just because you’ve had a series of bad days doesn’t mean you actually need that cigarette.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you? You seem even bitchier than normal. I guess this cold snap we're having is because the ice queen decided to control your body."

"Har-har-har little man." He bristles at the jab and you can't help but cackle internally at your small victory (pun completely intended.) "No for your information the world is a cruel, evil bitch and yet again I fell for its corporate seductions and evil capitalist ploys."

"Right, I'm going to nod my head and pretend I understood what that meant just so you don't kill me. Hey, so are you ever going to get that tattoo or not?"

You reach into the trenches of your memory, recalling months ago on a particularly good day when you told this same tiny Satan that you wanted to get a tattoo. He had seemed oddly impressed that you wanted a snake on your upper thigh and all was well until he told you that he pictured you wanting some shitty positive statement, most likely placed on your collarbone or ribcage and adorned with little doves or a dreamcatcher or some other shit. Bleh. That's when he first learned that you are possibly insane and most certainly a bit of a bitch. It's all been downhill with him since, each run in turning into a battle of insults.

He stubs out the little remaining part of his Marlboro before gesturing to the warm shop. "I've got an opening to do a consult if you wanna talk about it more."

Perhaps this is it, maybe this is what you need to do. Something different. Something that doesn't include your usual routine of wake up, caffeinate, work, work, work, and Netflix binge all in between minor anxiety driven breakdowns. Besides, it's just a consult, not the actual tattoo. "How do I know this isn't an elaborate plan to eventually see me half naked?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he opens the door to the shop, glaring at you as he speaks slowly. "You might be hot, but I have a feeling you'd be the type of girl to try to peg me with no lube. I prefer cuddling. Trust me, I'm not interested in getting you naked and seeing where it goes." You're thrown for a loop at that one, shuffling slowly behind him as your brain tries to make sense of it. You know you should be offended that he seriously thinks you wouldn't use lube, but Yoongi likes cuddling? The guy who scowls at life itself? The guy who you've watched physically throw out a neo-nazi who wanted a tattoo? The same guy who rides a motorcycle and refuses sugar in his coffee because he likes it as bitter as his very soul? Man, life is really fucking weird.

You follow behind him tentatively, shocked to hear rather calm hip hop station on. Maybe you stereotype too much but you pegged him (pun not intended this time) as a Lamb of God kind of guy, definitely not a Dean and PH-1 fan. He takes you over to his office, gesturing at a free seat before he sits down at his desk. Every surface is covered with intricate artwork. From Japanese style tattoos to Sailor Jerry flash pieces to pops of dystopian Disney paintings. "So, you still thinking about doing the same thing?"

"Yeah. Red Belly black snake. I'm thinking upper thigh/hip area." You stand up and move your coat to the side to point to the area.

"That's a good sized piece. Have you thought about adding anything more to it? Maybe some hyacinths on the left and right of the snake, I'm thinking in maybe a pale pink so it doesn't offset the red in the snake too much."

"You know what a hyacinth is?" You snort slightly, glaring back at him when he leans onto his elbows to shoot a look that he's probably hoping will kill you.

"I'm a tattoo artist. Do you know how many fucking flowers I have to draw every day? Swear to god I should open up a flower shop next door and make a killing with my amazing arrangements." This time you give a full-blown laugh, shocked to hear him mirroring quietly. In all the time you've kinda sorta known him you've never heard him laugh. It's nice, deep, and the gummy smile he gives has your heart doing little flip flops that you absolutely refuse to analyze.

You take just a beat too long to look at him, your head tilted slightly as you mentally murder the lone butterfly that has survived all of the anger you've culminated in the last few years. "How about a peony instead? I think it would look better."

"We can do that. With the size you're looking for and all the color work I'd guess that we're looking at at least 6 hours if we want to make sure it's done right. We can split it into two three hours sessions. I charge $200 an hour so you're looking at at least $1200, but you might want to be thinking to around the $1600 range just to be safe. I also require a $300 deposit usually just for a consult and another $300 later but I figure I can always hound you if you don't come in." He opens up his computer, clicking away for a moment before adding, "I have enough time to get started this Friday night if you want? At 8:00."

"Gee thanks for the trust. Yeah that all sounds good, I'm down."

He nods quickly, hands grabbing at some paper as he starts making drafting up some rough sketches. You try not to invade his space as you look over the paper, brain desperately searching for a small talk topic. God, you've always been bad at this. "So...how long have you been a tattoo artist?"

"Well I started my apprenticeship right out of high school at 18 so 10 years total, but as an actual artist only about 8 years." Interesting, so that would make him two years older than you. For some reason, you feel a need to put that in one of your mental files. "What exactly do you do at that giant office building down the street?"

"I work for a publishing house in there as one of their many editors."

Yoongi snorts, nodding his head as he keeps sketching away. "Yeah, I can see you working with books. Your creative insults suddenly make so much more sense."

"I'll take that as a compliment." You lean back into your chair, taking in your surroundings a little more closely before focusing unabashedly at the man before you. His tattoos are on full display now that he's taken off his jacket. Almost all are black and white with small splashes of reds and pinks laced mostly on his neck where cherry blossoms fall delicately off a branch. His eyes are cast in complete concentration, lower lip bitten as he works. There's something painfully sexy about the image. You almost want to burn it into your brain to use for late night consumption.

You aren't sure how long the two of you sit there in silence, but it's comfortable. There's something soothing about listening to the way his markers glide over the paper as soft music, buzzing tattoo guns, and chatter filters in fuzzily through the closed door. You can feel yourself finally start to relax, all of the earlier rage and grudges held at the world slipping away momentarily as you enter a near-meditative state just watching him work.

Finally, he glances up, a smile on his face as he pushes the paper over the desk to you. It's beautiful, a little rough around the edges without the finishing touches but it's better than anything you thought of. "Wow, Yoongi this looks great."

"It's just a rough drawing. I still need to work on some of the other touches but if you're good with that I'll get started on making the transfer later this week."

"Yeah..." You words are quiet as you look at the picture, elation growing in your heart. You might turn into a cat lady, but at least you'll be a badass one. "Okay, so seriously though do you want me to put down the deposit now? I have no problem with that."

"Nah, don't sweat it. Oh, but I do need your full name and number to actually book it. And don't give me some shit about this being a ploy for your number." You roll your eyes before giving him the information. Standing up slowly when he opens up the office door and leads you back out to light snowfall. "Alright, see you this Friday (y/n)."

"See you Yoongi. Thanks again." As you turn back to send a smile something painfully familiar stirs in your brain when he flashes that gummy smile and sends you on your way.

---------------Friday----------------

By the time Friday rolls around you've been through a whole litany of emotions. You're of course excited about the tattoo, that's not the problem. No the source of all evils is Min Yoongi. Sexy. Witty. Can handle your sarcasm. Enjoys cuddling. He's plagued your thoughts, gummy smiles invading your daydreams and inky tattoos hovering over you at night. It's been a long time since you've actually crushed on anyone. Dating as an adult is an entirely different experience. Usually, you know someone who knows them or met them on tinder and you're just praying that they aren't a secret serial killer and that you share enough interests to talk in between getting railed while praying for an orgasm. At least, that's been your shitty experiences anyway. You know that it isn't always the case considering that just about all of your friends have gotten magically engaged or married recently. But Yoongi? There's something about him that stirs up all of your previously assumed dead thoughts on love. All of the secret romantic pinings combines with lust in a painful swirl but luckily the thoughts you have of him are usually fleeting.

You step forward into the tattoo shop after grabbing a bite to eat, two warm cocoas in your hand as you try not to freak out that the big event is finally here and you'll be face to face with tiny, sexy, tattooed satan yet again. The man behind the counter looks over at you, and you can't help but wonder for a moment if being really good looking is a requirement to work here. Deep dimples, sunkissed skin, glasses perched on his nose.

"Hi, do you have an appointment?" You shake your head yes, staring at the floor for a moment before finally squeaking out that you're there to see Yoongi.

"Ay, (Y/N)'s here!" He shouts out towards Yoongi's office and you see him strolling out just a moment later.

"Jesus Joon, you've been spending too much time around Hobi. I think the whole shop could hear you." Yoongi steps around the desk eyeing the other cup before you hand it out to him.

"It's just cocoa, I didn't lace it. This time. Also, it's made with soy milk." You can hear the man called Joon laughing in the background as Yoongi slowly grabs the cup and squints at it before taking a tentative sip.

He gives a small nod that you assume is to signify satisfaction before he starts walking over to a curtained-off section in the back. "You ready to get started?"

"Yep, all ready!" You take a sip of the cocoa and sit down on the tattoo chair slowly.

"Alright, just check over this transfer and let me know what you think before you undress so I can put it on." You look over the image, heart warming up slightly at the brush of his fingers before you finally nod a silent affirmation. "I need words babe, is it good or not?"

You can feel yourself bristle at the tone, sighing wearily before you finally bite out, "Yes, babe, it's perfect."

"Cool. I'll leave you to get undressed, I'll be back in just a moment." The one shitty thing about the placement of your tattoo is that it will require not only pants to come off but underwear too. Before nerves can take over you strip quickly, laying back down on your side before you can think about it too much. Getting undressed faster than you can sneeze was probably a bad idea though because now you're forced to just sit there with your ass cheeks freezing and mind shutting down while you wait for him to come back. After a minute you hear him announcing that he's coming in before opening up the curtain.

Your eyes are trained on the floors. Jesus, you wish you could get your tiles to glisten the way their's does. They must mop a thousand times a day, you can't even see a speck of dirt in the grout. The sound of him clearing his throat has you jolting a bit before turning around to glare at the sound of his laughter. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just going to disinfect the area and put the transfer on then I'll have you take a look and let me know what you think of the placement." You decide to go mute apparently as your only response is a feeble thumbs up before quickly turning to resume your ever so interesting study on what floor cleaner they use. Probably Fabuloso.

You force yourself to stay stock still when you feel his warm hands on your hip as he cleans the area and peels the transfer on before he gives a light tap to your thigh. "Alright, take a look." With all the grace of a hospice patient you slowly swing your legs off and walk over to the mirror, trying to not pay attention to the fact that you're awkwardly half naked in front of arguably the hottest man who's admitted he enjoys cuddling before you finally relax at the sight of the transfer. "Man, this is going to look rad. Alright little satan, do your thing!"

"Little Satan? Really? What happened to all your usual creative bitchiness? What was it you called me that one time?"

"Oh! Degenerate Malfoy with a nicotine problem? Or was it wannabe colon inspector?"

"Neither actually, it wasn't even something you called me now that I remember it. You once told me 'Ah I see the fuck up fairy decided to mess with my life and force me to see you yet again.' That's a good one by the way, I've used it a few times."

"Glad I could help, but I wish I could copyright it so you could pay me the rights to use it." You try not to get too nervous as you hear him slip on his gloves and the needle buzzing ominously behind you. The pain won't be that bad right? "Relax, you'll be fine." His voice for once isn't laced with sarcasm. It seems that even the formidable Yoongi has a professional voice that he employs occasionally.

After what feels like ages filled with anxiety-ridden thoughts you feel the needle prodding away, moving quickly while leaving tingling and ever slight burning sensations in its wake. It does hurt, but not to the point of being unbearable. "See it's not so bad, scaredy cat." You resist the urge to turn around and pummel him in his annoyingly handsome face.

"If you weren't tattooing me right now I'd choke you out."

"Kinky, but I prefer a chick to at least buy me a drink first."

"Already did jackass, the cocoa remember."

"Huh, you did didn't you. Okay, well it's still off the table for you. You'd probably keep going until I actually died."

"Hell misses it's little satan though, I'd just be helping you reunite with all your friends."

"Do you have a snarky remark for everything princess?"

"Nah, depends on the day and the person. You're a special one Min Yoongi, something about you makes me want to bludgeon things."

"Oh, what a sweet compliment. Isn't that how people feel when things are too cute too?" You don't even need to look over to know that he's smirking as you flip him off.

"Or annoying." The rest of the three hours the two of you spend going back and forth with each other to the point that some of the other artists passing by started to call out their two cents in. By the time you're done, you have the outline complete and some of the black shaded in. The rest will be done in just two weeks time at his next opening.

-------------2 weeks later-----------

Oddly enough for once, you haven't seen Yoongi outside during his normal smoke break time when you leave work for the last couple of weeks. You also haven't seen him getting his normal disgusting black coffee either. Not that you've been looking for him. Okay...so maybe you have. There's just something about him other than the really good looks you like. In one sense it's almost like walking on a blade the entire time you're with him, never sure when he's going to make a jab. On the other hand, he's also easy to talk to. In a way where everything is oddly comfortable even with this underlying lurking sexual tension. Or maybe that's just in your head. Maybe there's no sexual tension and it's just been so long since you last had a good lay (the dingleberry boy who shall not be named was terrible) that you're starting to hallucinate. Which is a rather real possibility.

This time when you walk in with another cocoa it's with far fewer nerves. No, you're ready for the battlefield and only tremble ever so slightly when you have to face him with a bare ass in his face.

"Alright sunshine, let's finish this bad boy up." Is all he states before he gets right into it, ever the professional. By the time he's finished, you're 110% positive that you were just imagining the sexual tension because his eyes don't even wander as you check the tattoo in the mirror. Which is a good thing right? Because you're supposed to be on your fast track to nundom not trying to bag the super hot tattoo artist who works near you.

There's a bizarre sinking feeling in your heart though when you realize the tattoo is done and you won't be able to see him for extended periods of time on such a good excuse. An expensive excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Now, however, with your beautiful, intricate, and very sore skin you'll have to go back to happenstance run-ins. You think that maybe, just maybe, if the somewhat hollow looking smile he gives you when you leave is anything to go by that he doesn't really want it to end either. But that's probably just the few embers of hope remaining in you that needs to be crushed out.

--------1 month later---------

You've spent another night overworking yourself. This time there wasn't really a good reason to either. You're not only on schedule but way ahead and yet you've decided to just keep busting through work until dusk begins to fall and the shitty flickering streetlights by you turn on. Almost every night for the past few weeks you've been working longer days and as much as you hate to admit it it's to try to keep yourself from wallowing too much at night about your impending lonely doom. Tonight will be different though. Tonight you'll ruminate and bask in the fucked up world with your dear old friend Irene as she's finally decided to have a night away from her obnoxiously good looking fiance Taehyung. She might not be able to relate to your doom and gloom sentiments on life but she's always a good friend for a pick me up.

You set off in the opposite direction of your usual route, winding through the chilly streets until you get to your favorite bar that serves oddly impressively delicious fried chicken. The moment you step in you notice Irene sitting at one of the few tables at the place, glaring at a man who clearly can't take a hint. Marching over you grab the seat across from her before biting off a 'Jesus how much aftershave do you use? Did you put in on your asshole too or something?' Knowing he's now outnumbered, and out bitched, the two of you watch the man leave without protest.

"You know you really should be careful. People are crazy, aren't you ever afraid that you might get hurt or something?"

You shrug nonchalantly before sighing at the doe eyes she gives you. "Irene, I love you but I'm not curtailing my inner bitch just because some douche might murder me. There are countless absurd ways I could die, if I have to check myself in fear of that then I just let all those asshats continue being menaces to society without being put in their shitty sad places."

"So what you're like a superwoman with a bad attitude only you save the world one dick at a time with well-timed insults?" You know that voice, you know that voice all too well. Your ears perk up and your jaw drops open as you whip around to come eye to eye with Yoongi. For one whole month, you haven't seen him even with perfectly timed coffee runs around his smoke breaks. Not that you learned his habitual schedule or anything. Nope. Nothing like that at all. Just coincidence is all. And you just happened to notice he wasn't there. That's all.

"Yoongi!" You hate the way your voice goes up an octave, excitement making your voice quiver like a little puppy reuniting with their owner after a short separation. You can already feel the heat bursting on your cheeks as his head tilts, eyes watching you carefully before he cracks a lazy smile.

"Um, (y/n), who is this guy? Do I need to mace him or something?" Irene whispers to you, but just loud enough that as Yoongi steps closer he can hear her.

"Please don't mace me. I promise, I only bite if you're into that."

"Hey, watch it, mister. She's a taken woman." Reluctantly you wave your hand over the free seat to invite him over before looking back at Irene. "Irene this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is Irene. Yoongi did my tattoo for me."

"Oh, you got a tattoo? Can I see it?"

"We'll definitely get a free round of drinks if you show it off, that's for sure." You can't help but smack Yoongi's shoulder, shocked at the sturdiness of it. Considering how slight he looks you really didn't think that he worked out but now your mind is starting to wander.

"Yeah well, kind of can't show you in public considering I have to take my pants off. Oh! But I do have some pictures!" You pull out your phone, swiping through until you find one and turning it to show her.

"Wow, that looks like it hurt. It looks great though you did a good job..." Irene pauses, eyes going wide with panic before she finally adds, "Yoongi."

"Thanks." He almost looks shy and you can feel your heart breaking. Yeah, typical to have the hot dude fall for your friend and not you.

"Did you order drinks yet?" At the shake of Irene's head, you're grateful to have an excuse to flee to the bar not rushing to grab the bartenders attention and face falling slightly when he sidles up next to you immediately. The world is a cruel place. You want them to take their time and they're there immediately. You want them there right away and suddenly so do seventy other people. Luck. Or murphy's law maybe. Whatever.

You huff out a sigh before plastering a smile on your face, "Two cranberry vodkas, please. Tall and stiff." The bartender nods as you slap down a twenty, praying that perhaps he'll at least make the drinks slowly but oh no this man must be one of those bartenders that enters fucking speed competitions because he's sliding both drinks over before you can fucking blink. Unbelievable. The service at this place is just too good and it's making you twitch slightly in irritation.

Trying not to huff, you grab the two drinks and make your way back to your table. Heart sinking even more at the sound of Yoongi being strangely amicable to Irene. This was not the night you wanted at all. You wanted to get drunk and hang out with Irene and forget about how shitty boys are, not have glaring reminders everywhere about how the capitalist ploy that is romance will suffocate you to death. Okay so maybe you're being a little melodramatic. A lot. Whatever. It's your pity party, you can cry if you want to.

When you finally sit back down and hand Irene her drink you can't help but guzzle yours back right away, ignoring the acidic burn in your throat and the quirked eyebrow from Yoongi.

"So...(y/n)...any new boys after Johnny?" Irene refuses to look you in the eyes as she asks, smart enough to sit just out of reach from your possible rage.

"I refuse to fall victim to the bullshit masquerade we call love yet again. I've called it quits. I'm just going to be a spinster with a million cats who will inevitably be forgotten until my landlord finds that mittens, my favorite cat, has eaten my left asscheek for sustenance after my untimely death."

Irene bawks, trying immediately to rush into lengthy reasoning as to why you shouldn't stop searching for love as Yoongi nearly falls off his chair laughing so hard. At the end of Irene's dialogue, Yoongi wipes away a stray tear before shooting you a gummy smile. The kind that makes you want to hate him less, but you refuse to. Because that's dangerous territory. Territory you've sworn to never cross again. "You don't actually mean all that bullshit right? Love is natural, it's needed. It's biologically ingrained in us to be social creatures and affectionate."

"Don't you judge me and mitten's life path!"

"You don't even have a cat!" Irene looks exasperated as she takes a sip of her drink, silently judging you. "Listen, I get it. You've been fucked over a million times by terrible guys. But that doesn't mean that the whole world is that way." At the withering look you send her Irene sighs, shaking her head but falling mute. You feel a little bad that yet again you've ruined the mood so you try to lighten it up a bit, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

"Thanks, Irene. I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know. I've been in a bit of a mood." You bit your tongue from further sarcasm at the pointed look she gives you. "Things haven't been so hot lately. I'll get over it. In like a decade. But you know that's better than never." You can feel Yoongi peering at you, analyzing you from the corner of your eye.

"Why though? Why are you so convinced that love is such a sham?" Yoongi's words don't seem to hold any judgment or his usual quiet hostility, instead just honest curiosity.

"Well if they don't cheat on me they always grow tired of me. I'm a bit too much of a bitch for my own good. I should really work on that." You shrug, staring at your almost empty glass as you try to shush the self-loathing thoughts that want to invade.

"I like that part about you though. You've got spunk doll, it ain't a bad thing. You just need to find a guy who can match it." He smirks at the way you go quiet before leaning slightly into you at the table. "I don't know, I think I'm up for the challenge if you are." He grabs a card from his pocket, placing it next to your cup as he stands up. "That's my cell on there. Text me sometime babe." You hate the way your brain shuts down, playing back the way he calls you babe until all senses fail.

"You should do it. You know he was asking about you the entire time you were getting drinks?" You feel your heart sink even further at the realization that you judged the situation too quickly before suddenly soaring at the idea that Min Yoongi asked you out on a date. You. Snarky, bitchy you found a match in hell. Capitalist ploys be damned! You'll at least find out if he's cocky for a reason. If you don't chicken out that is.

-----------------------------------

Later that night after all the alcohol has left your system and you're snuggled up under enough blankets to possibly suffocate you, you find yourself staring at your phone. You entered in his contact almost immediately after he left at the urging of Irene. Apprehension has held you back from actually sending anything though. Your fingers hover over the screen, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you suck in a breath. What have you got to lose?

[You]: Hey...

[Yoongi]: (Y/N)?

[You]: Yeah

[Yoongi]: This is unusual. I'm used to quippy remarks. Don't tell me you've grown soft?

[You]: Fuck off. I'm just confused that's all.

[Yoongi]: What's there to be confused about? You're funny, you have no problem with giving it right back to me, and you have a fantastic ass

[You]: Well that was blunt

[Yoongi]: I'm an honest man [Yoongi]: So listen, about that date, I wanna take you out Sunday

[You]: That's in like a day from now

[Yoongi]: Yeah well I've wanted to take you out from the first time you told me off for smoking on the street. And that time you told me you were going to shove my tattoo needle up my ass solidified it.

[You]: You have some odd kinks sir

[Yoongi]: Is that a yes babe?

[You]: Hmmm....yeah I'll go

[Yoongi]: Great send me your address I'll pick you up at noon

[You]: You aren't going to chop me up in a million pieces and feed me to the fishes right?

[Yoongi]: No I prefer my women in one piece

You send over your address, butterflies swarming around as you squeal into a pillow before sending him a quick good night. You don't need to embarrass yourself by saying something off the wall as exhaustion starts to set in. Like "I want to kiss your face" or "Fuck me in your office." Yeah, that's not good pre-date material. You need to keep it kosher for now.

------------------------------------

You had spent all day Saturday cleaning to keep your nerves at bay. Not that you can really tell much in your closet after you ransacked it. And not that you can tell you went through all of that energy just to pick a simple oversized black hoodie and jeans. It's too cold to go all out anyway. You've been staring in the mirror, double checking your hair and makeup a thousand times as you hear the doorbell chime through the apartment. It's a good thing no one else is around to see you nearly trip over yourself as you slip on your shoes and answer the door. "Hi!"

Yoongi is wearing his usual black leather jackets, skin-tight black jeans, and cat-like smirk. "Hey. You ready?"

"Yeah, oh just let me grab a jacket." Pulling one off the rack you shut the door behind you, locking the door before shuffling behind Yoongi. Much to your surprise, he slows down until your right next to him, clasping his hand around yours and smiling as he silently leads you to his car.

"What, no motorcycle today?"

"Nah, I figured you'd strangle me and we'd crash. Dieing on the first date just seems tragic. We need to get on date number five at least." He shoots you a wink as he opens your door, shutting it lightly behind him as he jogs around to the other side.

"So...where exactly are you taking me?"

"You're a curious little thing today, aren't you? Well at first I was thinking something simple like coffee, but let's be honest that's overplayed and boring. So then I thought about going to an aquarium just so I could make a joke about feeding you to the fishes but then I thought nah too easy. So I spent more time than I'll tell you plotting. And I realized exactly where we needed to go. We're going to the river for a picnic. Something that's oddly ordinary and you'll secretly love but no dude's ever actually done for you. Am I right?"

You're at a loss. You certainly didn't expect him to think this through to this extent. Honestly, no guy has ever cared this much about a first date before. You figured that only existed in stories and movies at this point. "You're certainly right. Isn't it a little cold for a picnic though?"

"I have brought plenty of cocoa and jjigae to keep us warm, don't you worry your pretty little head about it." You can't help but fidget slightly, nerves boiling over until his hand rests soothingly on your thigh and you feel yourself melt. Or maybe boil over until you malfunction. But that's something to dwell on at a later time.

It doesn't take long after that until you pull up at the river. During springtime it's packed, everyone comes out to drink under the cherry blossoms, but right now it's serenely quiet. You're almost the only people in sight save the zealous runners and elderly couples strolling through on their daily walks. When you try to help set up the blanket and food Yoongi refuses, so instead you watch him meticulously lay everything out. Maybe this is a post-season Christmas movie because you swear you can feel your dead cold heart grow as you watch him. It's an oddly domestic feeling. Certainly romantic. Painfully sweet. And for once all of your usual bitter snarkiness has drowned it's self in the river to leave you a heart-eyed mess.

"Come on, come sit. I told you before, I don't bite unless you're into that."

"I'm into that, but right now I'd rather have cocoa and jjigae." You watch him pour out your drink as you sit down, carefully handing you the piping hot drink before pulling the still boiling soup out of the basket.

"Alright, so I figured that being you'd probably refuse to tell me too much out of wariness. So I propose that we play 21 questions. What's your favorite food?"

"Tofu, in all it's many forms. What's your favorite color?"

"Black, just like my coffee."

"And your soul." You duck as he tosses a napkin at your face, laughing at the gummy expression he sends your way.

"Aish. Okay, next question, what are your hobbies?"

"Reading and video games. Why'd you become a tattoo artist?"

"I love drawing, but I especially love the idea of a living canvas. It's just so interesting. Although I hate that I don't usually get to control the outcome of it, some people have god awful tattoo ideas. Most people actually. I'm at least booked enough now that I can refuse those ones without worrying about my bank account too much. Why are you so afraid of love?"

You weren't expecting that question. You figured he'd keep things easy but then again you should have known better. Of all the many ways you can describe the man before you easy isn't one of them. "Trust problems I guess. I didn't have the best home, parents kicked me out young and we haven't talked since so that's probably at the root of it all. I don't know though, never seen a shrink about it so that's just an educated guess. Add all the boys that I've dated either dumped me or cheated on me and it makes it tough to believe that love, especially romantic love is real. Why do you believe in it?"

"Because love is the very essence of humanity. The best way to fight a shitty system that tries to keep us all down is through love. It's not power or money or any of that other bullshit they tell us we need. It's love. We all just need someone who understands us. It doesn't need to be a ton of people, just one who really gets us and bam! Everything's good. Sometimes those people come and go, but that doesn't make the love you held for that time discounted. It just means that now you need to find someone else who understands you." He chooses his words carefully at first, but when he sees that you're held in rapt attention he grows passionate. Eyes blazing as if to dare you to disagree. And suddenly you're seeing the world through a different lens. Here you had been chalking romance up to marketing, which isn't entirely untrue but that's just one part of it. But love the way he sees it? To him, love isn't about marketing or money it's just about human connection. And suddenly you're starting to understand that abstract intangible concept. You also realize that what you were looking for wasn't love, but perfection. You didn't want to do all the work, you just wanted all the pieces to magically fall into place for you and gave up when expectations weren't instantly met. "Next question, why'd you say yes to this date?"

"Because you're hot." You roll his eyes at the exaggerated wink he sends you before eating a bit of the jjigae. "Okay so that was a part of it but mostly I was curious. You're this weird enigma Yoongi. At first, I thought I had you all figured out. Tough dude with tats and a motorcycle who probably has a slew of booty calls waiting for him. But then you said you liked to cuddle and I got curious. And then I realized that I didn't have the whole picture, just a glimpse. Why in the world did you ask me out? And for the love of god don't say 'dat ass.'"

"Okay but dat ass though." The way he laughs full heartedly, slapping his knees at the sight of your glare almost makes you not elbow him. Almost. But you have a reputation to uphold. "You've just got this thing about you. You're like a fortress. A puzzle. I guess that same idea of wanting to figure a person out is the same reason why I'm so attracted to you. You see at first glance you seem to be just brutally honest, but then when you look closer it's easy to see that you're vulnerable. Fragile. Callous due to a previous naivety that landed you in shit places by the sounds of it. I like that you have spirit, you aren't afraid to tell people to fuck off. But what I like most of all is under that there's this heart of gold. At least if your interaction with your friends is anything to go by you do." Fuck, you think you have something in your eye. It's definitely not your long extinct tear ducts learning how to work again. Nope.

You can feel his thumb brush a stray tear, hand cupping your face as you automatically nuzzle into the warmth before he clears his throat. "Next question-"

Before he can finish the question your lips are on his. They're chapped but still soft, plush under yours. And suddenly that tailwind romance you thought was all fake feels so real as a spark of electricity zaps you. Or maybe that's more carnal, but whatever it is it feels so right. As if his lips were made to be against yours. And when you feel him kiss back roughly, hands weaving through your hair as he pulls you in closer you know that he must be feeling the same thing. You're floating. High in the clouds. Weightless. The sound of someone running past finally has the two of you breaking apart slowly. "Right next question, can we do that again?"

This time there's a fire behind the kiss as your hands grab onto his jacket and his tongue slips into your mouth. This time you know it's more carnal. Burning bright. Passionate. Hungry. Needy. But before it can devolve into public debauchery you reluctantly pull back, blush creeping up your neck as you see his molten brown eyes focused on you in a way that clearly states that he is indeed as dangerous as he looks. At least if your definition of dangerous is sex right out in the open at a very public park anyway.

"My turn. What's your favorite music?"

The rest of the date goes by too quickly and you learn about everything Yoongi related and he learns everything about you. You're positive that you've never learned so much about a person on a first date, or hell even by the third. You've learned his birthday, his favorite music, all about his friends, how he actually co-owns the tattoo shop and how that all happened. You've learned about how he came from a poor family and how he makes sure to send a little bit each week to help out on top of the apartment he bought them. Suddenly the $200 an hour fee makes a whole lot more sense.

By the time you're pulling back into your apartment, the two of you have already planned a date for next Sunday. And as he puts the car in park you can't hope but wish that somehow it was already magically next week. But when he pulls you in for a heated kiss and presses his forehead against yours before sending you off you're too much on cloud nine to pay any attention. You'll have to add that Yoongi is certainly the best kisser you've ever known to your mental file.

-------------1 week later---------------

Well, it's official. You're nuts. You'd like to blame Yoongi but let's be honest, all you needed was a little help to push you over the ledge. Except the problem is that before you were very sure of life. Completely comfortable with anger, bitterness, and believing that everything inevitably fails. And in some sick twist of fate, his words have been playing back in your head over and over every single day for the last week. Before you thought it was all or nothing. Love was there or it wasn't. You get one shot at true love and if it fails then it never existed. Except now your world is flipped upside down.

Perfection is a fruitless endeavor. An impossible task. One with zero rewards. And what you've been looking for all this time is perfection. A perfect love. A whirlwind romance. But if it's perfect it's fake. It's all a lie. An elaborate performance. Which is mostly all you've ever gotten, granted usually in short-lived moments but sometimes longer. And when the curtains closed each time you thought, "this show wasn't a real show. I'll go to a better play next door." Except the play was still very much real. A part of you. A part of them. Which means that love is indeed real it's just not always very grand. But when it was there it was beautiful, you were just blind and ignorant in even the good moments. Unaware of the magic in small acts. But with Yoongi suddenly you want to see all the small acts. You want to not just see the show but be a part of it. Go behind the scenes with him. See how this plays out.

Which is completely fucking nuts. You're already talking about your entire worldview changing and the concept as something as obscure as falling in love with a man you barely know and have only been out on a date with once. It makes you afraid. It makes you feel free. It gives you options. It's like being able to use all of your senses at once for the first time. Except that's scary because there's too much coming at you at once. But it's equal parts exhilarating. You've been through every single possible emotion a person could have every day.

By the time your second date finally arrives, you're suddenly calm about it all. As if everything is right and the puzzle pieces to life are aligning and maybe just maybe you have a chance to see things differently. And while before you would have rather poked your eyes out than face rejection again this time you just want to see where this takes you. You aren't thinking so much about the end results, rather the journey.

Tonight Yoongi is taking you out to his favorite record store. While you don't own a record player you can certainly appreciate the aesthetics of vinyl. There's something oddly charming about them, even if it is ridiculously impractical in the modern world of space-saving technology and cramped apartments. Perhaps the impracticality of it is apart of the appeal, however. This time you aren't tripping over yourself to get to the door. But that's because you're standing right by it giving yourself a pep talk. Not that he needs to know that of course. After smoothing down your hair and doing a quick checklist in your head your pulling the door open.

This time he's wearing an oversized sweater but again the same tight black jeans. The man must have stock in them. Not that you blame him, it looks good after all. "You look great, babe." Heat blossoms on your face as his eyes scan you from head to toe, that signature lazy smile adorning his face before he takes your hand in his and leads you to his car.

"Still no motorcycle?"

"Nope, still don't trust that you won't freak out and kill me accidentally. Why? You seem oddly keen on the bike."

"It just looks fun that's all."

"It is. There's nothing better than a good ride, and you can take that any way you please." He winks at you, laughing when you scoff and punch his shoulder. If any other guy said that line you would have jumped out of the now moving vehicle, but for some reason when he says it you turn into putty. Maybe it's the charm of being absurdly good looking. Or that tattoos. The bad-boy charm. Or maybe it's because in all his infinite aloof glory he's just Yoongi. Comfortable and confident in his own skin without being sleazy.

The record store is quiet, playing a selection of upbeat jazz. Your brain is trying to figure out the tune until you finally snap your fingers and softly say, "Giant Steps!"

"You know jazz? Are you a secret Coltrane fan or something?" Yoongi is giving you that look. The look that says he's clearly analyzing you. Studying you. Dissecting your brain as you speak.

"Sort of. I dated this guy in college for years, he was a jazz major. His thesis was going to be on Giant Steps, it's been years since I've heard it though. Are you secretly into jazz, Min Yoongi?"

You watch him shake his head no as he scans the records before pulling one out. Outkast, ATliens. A great album, one that invokes nostalgia. He quickly puts the record under his arm before he continues searching. "Nah, I'm more of a blues guy myself. Nina Simone. Etta James. Bill Withers. The building blocks to all modern music. At least hip hop, R&B, and all the subgenres of rock."

"You know an awful lot about music considering you're a tattoo artist. What's the background story on that?" You peruse next to him as you speak, flicking through the music slowly.

"Once upon a time I wanted to be a rapper." There's something far off about his voice. As if he's reliving the memories. A gentle smile on his lips as he shakes his head as if to push them back into their little file in his brain to not be disturbed for some time. "But I had bills to pay. I'm not complaining though. I love music, adore it. But I love what I do too. It's almost like trying to pick between your two children. You might actually have a favorite, but it changes depending on the day."

"Let's hope you only have one kid then."

"Nah, I'm going to have a horde of mini Mins. Take over the world with them and overthrow capitalism. It's my diabolical plan to get housing prices back to normal and get student debt forgiveness."

"And how exactly do you plan to have this army of darkness? Polygamy? A sex cult?"

"God that just sounds exhausting. I can hardly keep up with you let alone more women. No, I think I'll actually stick with two children. You know, just so on tough days I can look at one and go 'ah yes today you didn't fuck up.'" You pray that he doesn't look over to see your cherry red face. He in a way made it sound like he's thought about children with you. Clearly, that's not what he means but now your mind is wandering. Mini mins. They'd be cute. Probably slightly evil but cute nevertheless. They might be born glaring though. Or smirking instead of crying.

"What happens when they both fuck up?"

"Then I've got you." Fuck, he was implying you. Holy shit. Holy shit. Act natural. Don't look at him. "Ooh look! They have a Frank Ocean Blonde vinyl. Unopened this bad boy is worth a few hundred. Man, I can't believe how cheap they're selling it for." He tucks it under his arm before cataloging through some more. For a short while the two of you work in silence, falling into a pattern that when you stare at one for just a little too long he's plucking it out of your hands and refusing to listen to you protest.

By the end of it all, the two of you are walking out with a dozen records after learning a wealth of information on all of Yoongi's favorite artists. You also learned that once upon a time his rap name was 'Suga.' Which led to you immediately and passionately singing Sugar by System of the Down quickly increasing in volume until he clamps his hand over your mouth and stares at you with the rage of a thousand suns. Totally worth it though. Especially when the dude behind the counter picks up where you left off.

Dinner goes by too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, force it to slow so you can languidly explore his world. It's with a heavy heart that you unbuckle your seat belt before leaning over and pulling him into a heated kiss. One that makes your head spin again and proves that the first date wasn't a series of flukes. Nope, Min Yoongi really does have a skilled tongue. When you pull away you can see stars in his eyes, his hair ruffled and cheeks red as he tries to even out his breathing. The most dangerous part about Yoongi is his duality. The way he can flit between sexy to cute and somewhere in between without trying.

------------2 months later----------

You've lost count on how many dates you've gone on at this point. He's taken you out on his bike finally to go stargazing. Out to plays and art galleries. Sometimes you've just stayed in and watched movies together. You have lunch together at least twice a week now, grabbing coffee together for a short reunion in the mornings after spending all night talking about everything and nothing over the phone. It's as if a time before Yoongi didn't exist. It's comfortable. Oddly easy.

It's to your chagrin and surprise that you learn that Yoongi wants to take things slow. He doesn't rush you into bed. He's the perfect gentleman. A punk Disney prince, albeit with a sharp tongue. No even after the third and fourth date when you try to heat things up he's quick to pull away and tell you that he doesn't want to rush things. Not with you, he says. He wants you to trust him first. He wants you to be truly comfortable first. He doesn't want you to think that he's only in it for that.

You get it. In fact, in a twist, it actually makes things hotter. But the build-up is getting almost painful now. The sexual tension mounting to epic proportions. Your poor vibrator would hate you if it wasn't inanimate. He wasn't lying about loving cuddling. He's also apparently a man of extreme patience because no matter how many times you've felt his hard dick against your ass mid-spooning he's refused to act on it. Or let you. It's left you more than slightly frustrated on multiple occasions. It also wasn't helpful that it, in turn, made you an awkward mess. In fact, you remember jokingly mentioning some gibberish about your starfish quivering to try and crack the tension and for a while you thought he would never let you live that terrible joke down. Starfish, really? What were you thinking?

What you belatedly realize though is that his master plan fucking works. Because somewhere along the way you started letting down your guards. Somewhere along all your dates, you find yourself falling. Allowing yourself to be human. Allowing yourself to stop fearing love. Allowing yourself to trust. Without fighting it. Without running. It's no longer terrifying. It's no longer something that gnaws at you in the chasm of anxiety.

And just shy of three months into dating Yoongi you realize that you love him. Love. Abstract. Intangible. Yet not. It's the way he looks at you. The way he holds your hands. The way he thinks about the things that make you tick. The way the two of you try to find joy in the tiniest of things. Marie Kondo would tell you that you've finally found something that sparks joy. But it's not just from him. No, even when he's not around you feel lighter. Freer. Happier. You're still sarcastic. A bit of a bitch. But this time it's no longer from a place of longheld bitterness and pain, rather it's from your twisted brand of humor.

This realization comes to you as you after hanging out with Yoongi's friends and coming back to his place to just chill and listen to his vinyls. When his thumb soothingly rubs your hand as you curl up into his chest. It's so natural. So right. "I love you." The words come out a soft sigh, muffled slightly into his chest but he hears them loud and clear.

Yoongi twists, pulling your face up to his. "Did you just say you love me?"

"Min Yoongi I love you." You don't expect to hear anything back. You aren't saying it for affirmation or reciprocation. You just want him to know.

"I don't think I've ever heard better words. Say it again." That gummy smile is back. The one that stirs up butterflies. The one that warms your soul. The one that you fell in love with.

You swing your legs over his lap, straddling him as you stare into his eyes. "I. Love. You."

"God, you don't know how bad I've wanted to hear that. I love you so fucking much. So much. Holy fuck. I want to kiss you, can I kiss-" Before he can finish the sentence your lips are on his. Soft and pliant under yours, a lingering taste of leftover chapstick and nicotine. It's captivating. Dizzying. It's so easy to get drunk off his lips. His taste. The soft groans that leave him. Tongues intertwine as his hands roam your body before landing on your ass with a firm squeeze. It's messy. Needy. Sloppy but full of passion. As if you're the only cure for each other. Each emotion lingering in the air. Your hips swivel down, grinding against his pants as one hand weaves into your hair to pull your neck back and attach his lips to there.

You can feel the small bruises blossoming already. Love bites and harsh sucks leave cherry blossoms along your neck, mirroring the pattern of his own tattoo. Quiet moans of need are spilling out, desire pooling into your panties each time his teeth scrape against you. "You, doll, are the hottest thing I've ever seen. I could worship you. Dedicate a temple to you. Can't wait to feel you. God, I want you so bad. I love you so fucking much." Each word spills out from him like a deep moan, reverberating through his chest and chewing them off at the end. A loud mewl of satisfaction leaves you. He loves you. He loves you. You're in love. Over the moon. How could you ever think that love wasn't for you? How could you ever give up? How could you honestly think that you were destined to be a spinster when a man like him wants you?

His hands claw at your shirt, quick to remove your bra and leave you partially bare. Even with the slight chill seeping in through his apartment you still feel feverish. Each time his calloused hands roam your skin you can feel your temperature increase. God, you've never wanted someone so much. It's almost an out of body experience. Sex elevated off the mortal plane. You swear you might cum just from him touching you at this rate. His lips brush against your nipples before biting down, one hand reaching back into your hair as you arch into the touch.

"Wanna touch you Yoongi. Wanna feel you." The words come out drunkenly. Wobbly. Laced with honey through your swollen lips. When his grip lets go of your hair you lean down to his neck, pressing kisses around his tattoo, tongue laving at the branch as your teeth scrape against his soft skin. The deep moans hiccuping out of him are music to your ears, urging you on as your grind against him. Desperate for friction. Desperate for release. Your hands toy at his shirt before finally breaking away to pry it over his head. Your eyes dance over his half-naked form, taking in the sight before you. Almost every square inch is covered, ink swirling around in intricate stories. God, you're about the fuck the hottest living canvas.

His chest is heaving, breathing uneven as the two of you make eye contact again before lips come crashing together and he's picking you up. Carrying you out of the living room and into his bedroom, stopping occasionally to push you against a wall just to latch onto your neck or chest. By the time you make it to the bed, you're sure that for the first time in your life you could actually forgo foreplay. You're so wet that you can feel it seeping through your underwear and leaving a mark on your jeans. He stumbles onto the bed, your head hitting the wall with a loud thwack that has both of you pausing for a moment. "Shit, are you okay?"

"Mmokay, take your pants off." You rub at the sore spot before reaching up to place a reassuring kiss on his lips. You hold your breath as you watch him strip, dick springing out proudly. Smeared with precum. Red. Throbbing and twitching. "You don't wear underwear?"

He looks almost bashful for a moment. "It's laundry day actually..." At the sound of your giggles, he takes the opportunity while you're disarmed to unbutton your pants, freeing you from your jeans and leaving you in just your flimsy lacy panties. The mood shifts back again when you see the hunger in his eyes. As if he's staring at a feast. "Christ, can't wait to taste this pussy. Make you cry my name." His hands are shaking slightly as he slowly pries your underwear off, eyes narrowing on the way your juices stick to your underwear finally tossing it off the side of the best.

"Please taste me, I need you. I can't wait."

"Who knew you'd be so needy? So quick to beg for my tongue?" That usual lazy smirk is back on his face as he looks at you, hands hooking around your thighs and pulling them over his shoulders. His tongue flattens against your sex before you can respond, a choked moan drowning out your words. Jesus, he's good with his tongue. It moves slowly, languidly against your dripping pussy. Rhythmically. Diving into your folds only to swirl up around your clit, sucking lightly and releasing with a soft pop before going back down all over again. It's when his tongue dips even lower, swirling around your puckered rim that you can feel your eyes roll back and breathing cut off. Two fingers slip into your dripping cunt with ease, scissoring to stretch you. The dual sensation of his tongue on your ass and fingers filling you up has you clenching. Spiraling. Bright white flashing behind your eyes as a silent scream tries to leave your throat. Toes curling, his name finally rolling off your tongue as you chase the sensation, your orgasm consuming your senses. It leaves you dizzy. Panting. A mewling, drenched mess under him.

Through fuzzy ears you can hear his low voice, "God how do you taste so good? Fuck, I could watch you all day baby girl."

His fingers move slowly as he watches you return to earth, twitching underneath him at the oversensitivity. You feel so sated, but at the same time, you want so much more. The look in his eyes makes you hungry all over again. You want him to feel just as good as you. You look up with hooded eyes, hand wrapping around his drooling cock as you speak. "I wanna taste you too Yoongi."

His adam's apple bobs, hands leaving your thighs as he pulls you into another messy kiss. It's almost all teeth and tongue this time, a thin line of saliva breaks apart when you separate. You shuffle off the bed slowly, knees gingerly falling to the floor before looking back up as your tongue swirls around his head before pulling back to lick a long stripe along his prominent vein. You pepper tiny kisses along his base, one hand cupping his balls gently as the other one twists around his base. You envelop his velvety length in your mouth, working slowly into a steady rhythm. Each sigh from him, soft moans of pleasure spurs you deeper. Jaw aching slightly as you try to take him deeper, using your hand to help stimulate the places you can't reach. His hands grip your hair tightly as he reaches past your molars, pulling you off of him with a loud pop. "Sorry love, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that and I really want to fuck you."

You gulp at the way he's watching you. As if he's a predator and you're his prey. A feast for the night. You wouldn't have it any other way. He helps guide you back onto the bed, twisting you onto all fours as his hands glide over your ass. "Best ass I've ever seen. God, I've had so many wet dreams over this ass." His hand comes down sharply, the sting bringing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you as it soothingly rubs over. Your thoughts are quickly brought back to the throbbing between your thighs as his cock rubs against your swollen clit. "Please, fuck. God." You're incoherent, words stringing together slowly.

"What's my name doll?"

"Yoongi, come on. Fuck me before I bite your head off!"

"Yeah yeah, we'll see how much sass you have left in you when I'm done." You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him spit into his palm, adding lubrication before he glides into you. "Holy shit." He stays still for a moment as you spasm around the intrusion. He's just thick enough to have you crying out in pleasure, just long enough to have you seeing stars as he sinks deeper.

"Oh, fuck. Move, please move." You push back, sinker further onto him as he stays still before his hands snake around your throat.

"God, you are so mouthy. And as much as I normally love hearing you talk back right now I really just wanna fuck you." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, balls slapping into your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. Each movement is harsh, quick, with stamina and vigor you didn't foresee him having. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off just enough circulation to stutter your breathing, has you gasping and rutting underneath him. Fuck, was sex supposed to feel this good? In your fucked out state, you can barely make out the sound of him chuckling darkly behind you. "Look at you baby, already fucked out and I've barely started. Do you wanna cum again baby? Already?"

"Fuck, please. Don't stop!" Your high pitched begging has him drilling in deeper, his free hand moving off your ass and onto your clit in quick circular motions that has you clenching around him. This time your orgasm is earth-shattering. Loud. Wet. When his hand finally lets go of your throat you face plant into the pillow, legs shaking around him as he keeps moving.

"You're so beautiful when you cum, did you know that? My pretty baby girl, all fucked out on my cock. Now that's a sight I never want to stop seeing." Another loud smack to your ass has you sobbing into the pillow, moans spilling out as your release gushes around him. "Jesus, how is your pussy so fucking wet? Are you always this wet?"

"No. It's just for you Yoongi."

"That's right. This pussy is mine, isn't it? Say it, doll."

"This pussy is yours Yoongi, fuck. Hold on, I wanna ride you." He stutters, pausing before pulling out so the two of you can shuffle around. You smirk as you crawl over his lap, one hand holding onto his cock as the other grabs his arm while you sink down. You're sure you look a fucked out mess, but so does he. Sweat is making his fringe cling to his forehead, kiss-swollen lips, hickies covering his neck visible even over his tattoos.

You neck snaps back as you sink down completely, the new angle bringing him right to your g-spot and making your legs shake in overstimulation. You fall forward onto his chest, pulling him into another kiss as you circle your hips in small figure eights. You bite down on his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth as you reach behind you and gently roll his balls in your hand. You delight in the way he groans, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Keep doing that and I'm not going to last (y/n)."

"That's the point. Come on, cum with me Yoongi." It doesn't take much in your overstimulated state to get right back to the point again. Hanging over the edge as you dip your hand down to circle your clit, relishing in the dulcet moans from him as the two of you climax together. His nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing as he grips at your hips as you ride him into his own orgasm right after your third. It doesn't take long before he twitches inside you, painting your insides white as you slow down. At the feeling of him coming to his own completion you slump forward, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his hands circle your waist.

"Wow. That might easily have been the best sex of my life."

"Yeah, that was, wow." Your breathing is still unsteady, legs shaking as you feel him soften inside you.

"Did you realize you squirted?"

"Ah, yeah. Sorry to break your heart but that's actually somewhat normal for me."

"God that is so fucking hot." You laugh into his neck, exhaustion taking over as you sigh. "You know, the first time I ever saw you I knew. I just knew. You were all sass and fire, and I just knew that you were it. You were the one."

You wish you could reciprocate and say you thought the same thing when you first saw Yoongi, but you suppose it's better late than never. "I never would've guessed when I first met you that you liked cuddling, or saying such cheesy lines, or absolutely hated scary movies."

"Yeah, but you love that about me."

"Yeah. But I'm pretty sure I just love everything about you Min Yoongi."

"You know, when you say my full name like that I get oddly turned on. Do you think you're up for a round two in like, half an hour?"

You really should say no, you really just want to sleep. But just the thought has your mind spinning. Lord give you strength because you're going to need it, or at least better stamina, to last in survive this man.

You never would've guessed that love could feel so right. So natural. So normal. It isn't always a crazy spark. It isn't all fire and passion, even though it certainly has its moments. No, it's softer. Gentler. It grows and evolves with you. It changes. It takes work. And the two of you do somehow make it work. Even after moving in and trying to learn how to love someone when there's only one bathroom. Even after you get married and fall into a routine. Even after you get pregnant and go a smidge hormonally insane both times. Even on days when both of the kids drive you batty. Even when they leave home and leave you with an empty nest all over again. Because love is something beautiful. It's something innate within us all, it's just a matter of both parties wanting it enough. Working at it enough. And whenever anyone asks you what love means to you it was simple from that day forward. Min Yoongi.

#btssmutclub #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi reader insert #yoongi reader pairing #tattooed yoongi

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xaphrin · 5 years

Text

A Thousand Secrets and One Truth

Raven annoyed the hell out of him.

Absolutely annoyed the hell out of him. And, honestly, Tim wasn’t even sure why she annoyed him. For the most part, she kept to herself - either quietly taking notes in their two classes together, or staring out of the window, looking off into the distance. Even when she did talk, it was to ask a usually ask a poignant question, or make a point the professor wanted the class to learn. She was smart, observant, and unnerving. There was something about the way Raven looked at him that set Tim’s entire body on edge. It wasn’t so much like she was checking him out - like some of the other girls on campus - but that she could see into him. Past the designer clothes and dimples, like she was trying to pull apart his entire being and then piece him back together with better understanding.

And sometimes it was as though she somehow knew that he wasn’t entirely what he seemed, or what he claimed to be.

Tim wasn’t sure how she knew, or even how he knew that she knew, but there was something about the side-eye she gave him that made him feel like she had figured him out. It set him on edge, and while he hadn’t mentioned it to Kon or Gar, it was enough to make him wary. He had tried to avoid her the best that he could, but she kept reappearing - no matter what the time or circumstances.

Like now - at two in the morning, in the school library.

Tim swore under his breath and closed his laptop, pretending to be flipping through a book next to him. He watched as she stepped through the shelves, and her eyes settled on his form, watching for what felt like an eternity. His lips twitched as she lifted her stare towards his, her eyes settling on his brow. Of course she noticed him, they were the only two in the whole building. His body stiffened as she walked up to him and set a paper coffee cup down in front of him without any kind of ceremony. He could smell the scent of unsweetened coffee with a small amount of cream, exactly how he took it. How in the world did she know?

Her voice was somehow loud and soft at the same time, like she was screaming, but her words were being swallowed by the stillness of the library around her. “I thought you’d be here.”

Tim’s lips twitched and he stared at her, his face blank, but Raven seemed unfazed.

“I thought you had already handed in all your midterms. So, what are you doing in the library in the middle of the night? Shouldn’t you be out partying with all the other students?” She didn’t sit down, but she stared at him as though she were expecting him to invite her to join him. He didn’t.

“Mm. I see you’re as talkative as ever.” She sat down anyway, her lips pulling up at the edge as if she knew something he didn’t.

Tim’s stare flicked down to the coffee cup. It did sound good. He’d been up for nearly twenty hours at this point, and he couldn’t remember a time when his mind wasn’t racing. If he ever needed a shot of caffeine in was now. “What do you want?”

“You’re doing something not school-related.” Raven crossed her arms over her chest, still staring at him. “I’m not oblivious. I just want to know what it is.”

“It doesn’t concern you.” He grabbed the offered coffee cup and took a long drink, keeping his stare leveled on her. It was good. It felt like it was going straight into his mind and was slowly lifting him back up where he needed to be. His eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the taste as if he were being transported to Nirvana. Maybe Dick was right, maybe he did rely too much on coffee.

“You’re not enrolled in this school for education. You have a 4.5 GPA. A four-point-five.” Her sharp reiteration of his current GPA made it clear she had been studying him, and probably for a while. He wondered how long it had taken her to get into his records on campus, and almost felt a little proud that she’d managed to get the information.

Raven continued, her voice barely above a whisper, but no less heavy. “You could have easily tested out of every single class you’re enrolled in, but you didn’t. You should be in master-level classes, but you’re not. Instead you’re taking Chem 100 and Intro to Algebra like every other student on this campus.” Her lips twitched, and she continued to stare at him, eyes steely. It was like something in her had flipped, and she was no longer the quiet girl who sat next to him in chemistry. She was something different, and he could feel it crackling just under the surface of her skin.

“I won’t ask why you’re here, and enrolled in classes way below your level. If it’s something you can’t or don’t want to divulge, I won’t force you to talk about it.” She pressed her lips together and glanced away, as if there was something inside herself that felt as though it was eating at her. “But… if it has anything to do with the disappearances… I want to help. I think you owe me that much at least.”

Tim was honestly surprised he was able to keep his face as calm as he did. She was smart. “I don’t know what you’re-”

“My friend was one of them.” Her voice was soft, but it had an edge to it that seemed to cut deeper than he was expecting. Raven set her hands on top of the table, her fingers tightening into fists, as if she was ready to fight him. “Look, it doesn’t take much to realize that you magically showed up after the third disappearance, that you’re far too smart to be in any of the classes you are enrolled in - classes, by the way, that the missing girls were enrolled in. Or had a connection to.”

Holy hell. She was definitely smart. Tim felt a small amount of pride fill his chest as he stared at her. He was impressed that she had figured it out so quickly.

“Look… my friend was the only one who’s known me for what I am and still been kind to me. She made me feel like I had a place here, so if something happened to her, then I want to bring her back and keep her safe.” Raven lifted her eyes to Tim’s face, and he felt something odd in his chest turn over. His stomach knotted and he watched as she glanced away, dropping her voice again. “I don’t think that’s so much to ask for.” She paused. “Besides, I can be useful.”

Her words itched at the back of his mind, and he felt the question fall from his lips before he realized how rude it really was. “What are you?”

“What are you?” Her voice turned painfully sharp, and she leveled another stare at him. Something sparked at her fingertips and she shoved her hands under the table. “Genius boy who sits next to me in Chem 100? You can’t just go around and ask people what they are, it’s rude.”

Tim shook his head, trying to make heads or tails of his own thoughts, but everything suddenly felt out of focus. “Look, if you’re asking about the disappearances, then you know something more than most people. Tell me what you know.”

Raven crossed her arms over her chest, the stillness in her unnerving. “Tell me why you need to know.”

“If I was investigating the disappearances, then I would need to know all the information you have.” Tim realized that made him sound like he was actually trying to investigate the missing girls, but obviously this girl knew more than anyone else had at this point. If he could get her to open up a bit more about what had happened, then her knowledge could shave off weeks of his investigation. He played to her heart. “It would help me find your friend quicker.”

That did the trick.

Raven shifted, obviously trying to play her hand close to her chest. She knew that if she gave too much information, Tim would take it and not include her any more. But she also seemed to know that giving him the information would lead to her finding her friend quicker. It was a choice she didn’t want to make, but there were no other alternatives. Tim felt a thick black feeling of guilt tighten around his heart and he looked away. He shouldn’t antagonize her like this.

She picked up her phone and flicked through the screen. “Runes.” Raven handed her phone to him, pictures up on the screen. “There were runes all over where she was last seen. The police dismissed them, and said they were just gang symbols or bad graffiti, but I know better. They weren’t gang symbols. They were runes. Old ones.”

Tim looked down into the screen, flicking through the pictures. This was useful. It was the most information he’d gotten since he arrived here. None of the police reports he’d read, or the roommates he talked to mentioned any of this. “You can read these?”

Raven nodded, her expression cautious and a bit guarded. She was trying to read how much she could trust Tim. “A little. I was taught some of them when I was younger, but I haven’t really read them in a long time. I’m… probably a little rusty.”

Tim flicked through the pictures of the runes, until he saw a cute selfie with a redhead with bright green eyes pressing her cheek against Raven’s and smiling into the camera. Wait. That was… Tim’s eyebrows knitted together and he stared at the screen. “Kori?”

Raven snatched her phone back, her face serious again. She held her phone close against her chest, as if she had been burned by something he said. Her eyes were wide. “How do you know Kori?”

“She’s my…” He snapped his mouth shut, too much information all over again. Tim shifted, looking away as he reached for the now half-empty coffee in front of him. “That’s not important.”

Raven glared, her stare sweeping down the length of him still trying to read him. “Are you Dick? Is that why you won’t tell me who you actually are? I’ve never seen a picture of him, but Kori said he was a great detective. That he trained with the best.”

“No! I’m not Dick.” Tim shook his head. “Dick is my… friend?” He didn’t really know what to call him. He barely knew what to call the other Robins. Sometimes he called them brothers, but that wasn’t exactly right either. Dick tried his best to be inclusive, but there was always a sadness when he looked at Tim, Damian was threatening to kill him half the time, and Jason barely tolerated him, although Tim didn’t really blame him for that either. “Dick is someone I’m close with, but our relationship is… complicated.”

That was about as close to an explanation as he could get.

Raven blinked, and she kept staring at him as if she was determined to figure him out. A long stretch of silence passed between them, and she cocked her head to the side. “You don’t sound so sure of that.”

He wasn’t sure. Tim changed the subject quickly, hoping he could turn her observant stare away from him. “How do you know Kori?”

“She was a TA in one of my classes my sophomore year. We became friends after that.” The explanation was simple, but honest. She wasn’t lying.

“Did you know… about her?” Tim made sure to leave the question carefully open for interpretation. If Raven knew the truth about Kori, she would pick up on it. If she didn’t then they weren’t as close as Raven let on.

“Did I know… what? That she was an alien?” Raven nodded, looking down at the table. “I knew. I think a few of the professors knew too, but no one mentioned anything. At least not to her face.”

“Do you know anything about the other girls that disappeared?”

Raven shook her head. “I know that it can’t be… human. Whatever is taking them, I mean. Kori is the strongest person I know - mentally and physically. If someone has taken her, then this is…” She trailed off, and Raven took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Her hands were starting to shake. “Then, it’s dangerous. I’m worried for Kori, but I’m worried for the other girls too, and… and anyone else on campus who might not be what they seem.”

There was something in her voice that told him that she included herself in that thought.

Tim looked at her, and for a moment, Raven looked so small and vulnerable. In the dark quiet of the library, with the shadows trying to pull tightly around her form, he could tell that she wasn’t entirely human. There was something more to her that she was offering to show him, but he didn't know what it was or how to interpret it. And he certainly didn’t know if he should trust it or not. It was one thing to put himself in danger, but it was something else entirely to jeopardize the integrity of their mission and the rest of the team just because she had information.

And yet… his gut was telling her to trust her. He’d met Kori several times, and while she could be a bit of a space-case sometimes, but she was wise beyond her years. So, if she called Raven a friend and trusted her with Kori’s own secrets, then Tim could probably do the same.

“Okay…” His voice was low, and he took another long drag of coffee. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll tell you the truth.”

Raven lifted her face towards him again, the dim light of the abandoned library filling her face. “And I can help find Kori?”

He really should talk to the team first, but…

“Yes.”

Raven’s eyes widened, and Tim felt that weird feeling in his chest again, like his heart was practically vibrating inside him. He should have wondered exactly what he had agreed to with this, but looking into her face, he realized he didn’t care. She was just… kinda cute. And for a split second, that took over all logic in his brain. He’d take the wrath from the team later, but right now he could only see her.

#timrae #robrae #xaph's birthday 2019 #I HAVE A WHOLE STORY PLANNED OUT FOR THIS #BUT HAVE NOT WRITTEN IT BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING DISTRACTED #and honestly I would like to finish at least ONE THING this year

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hollowcrovvn · 5 years

Text

The Ostensive Fumblings of Being Human (part 3)

Pairing: Connor x female!reader Rating: T (please note rating change) Summary: Set two months after the ending of Detroit: Become Human, androids are living in government created “pop-up” communities while efforts are being made to integrate them into society. You are a grad-student volunteer with the Detroit Crisis Response Unit (DCRU), working to help with relief efforts. And now, finally it’s time for that coffee.

Notes: Disclaimer: I am obsessed with Machiavelli so it was only a matter of time before I threw him in here. And by obsessed I mean I loathe most of his points of view and like some of them. It's a love-hate thing. One of my first “date questions” is always on Machiavelli and I feel like it is very relevant given the upheaval and changes in the “government” in the end of the game as a result of the revolution.Though his bit on Moses is making me have all the Markus-needs-to-eventually-appear inklings. (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (ao3)

It had started as just a regular conversation on interests, tucked in the back of the coffee shop where there were nice sleek couches to lounge in, but had divulged into an intense debate on one of the most important topics of the past-- Kindles.

“Okay. The world treated eReaders like the devil in the early 2010s. Now? Can barely find a printed book anywhere.”

“Which has cut down on mass deforestation since paper is no longer in high demand.” Connor noted, playing devil’s advocate so perfectly it was enough to make a conflict addicted girl swoon.

“Exactly! So why all the fuss back when? Cause of some preoccupation with nostalgia ? Even now you got guys like Hank who bemoan the loss of paperbacks, as if we’re all gonna forget how to read in the meanwhile.”

Connor smiled and reached out, plucking the sleeve of your jacket aka the remake of the 2003 Canada Goose brand. He sat back, looking pleased with himself as you grumbled into your second latte. Granted, it hardly looked like coffee at all but more like chocolate milk with the amount of creamer you’d had them use. You’d refused to order your usual, to Connor’s chagrin. He had not yet it seemed formed an opinion to what your actual favorite was.

“It’s different! They responsibly source the materials for those coats now.” you insisted, but Connor only smiled and smiled, refusing to concede to your point. As if he had any room to talk. This man had at least four different styles, alternating between professional, casual professional, street and hipster circa 2010. He mixed them sometimes to interesting effects. You were pretty sure he spent the majority of his paycheck on clothes.Then again, after spending most of his life being forced to wear the same damn android branded attire, you could hardly blame his enthusiasm.

“One could argue the shift to electronics however, is contributing to the climate change phenomenon.” Connor added, picking up the paperback book in question that had started this conversation. It was one of Hank’s, which was shocking. The Prince by Machiavelli. You half wondered if it was meant to be a joke on Connor’s expense or if Hank had actually recommended something halfway decent, if not a bit pessimistic, for the Android to learn about.

You huffed, “So we’re killing the planet no matter what. Great. Cheery. I need another coffee.”

Connor’s LED whirled, blinking before settling a solid blue. “Your pulse is elevated to 97 beats per minute and your blood pressure has raised by 8 and 6 points in systolic and diastolic blood pressure, respectively. I would advise switching to water.”

“How do you know that's from the caffeine and not your innate magnetism .” you said, trying to lower your voice to a “sultry” level, but only managing to laugh.

“That would be highly improbable. I emit no traceable magnetic fields.”

Then the mother fucker winked .

You had begun to realize the parts of his personality you thought were intentional deadpan humor, were in fact, just deadpan facts. That one though? Definitely intentional . He picked up the book, thumbing open the pages that were dogeared and worn.

“Published in 1532, a political treatise by Italian diplomat and political-theorist, Niccolo Machiavelli. Considered one of the first books of modern philosophy, it’s topics range from human nature, military prowess, governments and history.”

He flipped to a specific page that you could tell had been once been highlighted and circled several times, now faded with time. Once upon a time, maybe Hank had noted it.

“Men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, for everyone can see and few can feel.” he read aloud, perfect and clear. You shut your eyes and listened.

“Every one sees what you appear to be, few--” he stopped abruptly, drawing your attention upward. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, “Few... really know what you are.”

His LED flickered yellow for a few seconds and then faded back to blue. You didn't really have the heart to tell him the quote was being taken wildly out of context, because it fit too well. It spoke to him. Let it mean what he wanted it to mean.

“This should be a very interesting read. Have you read it?” he asked, turning to the beginning of the book.

“Oh yeah, me and about 100 other people in PHI 1100. “Contemporary Moral Issues”. After I limped my way through the introductory course, I managed to do somewhat decent there.”

“Do you enjoy philosophy?”

“I tolerate it. Barely. With clenched teeth. I think it’s all well and good to “feed your mind” as Dolce would say, as long as your stomach is full. That’s not a common thing for the poor though so philosophy has always seemed to me as… well, a rich-man’s way to kill time.”

You swished the remaining dregs of your latte around in the bottom of your cup.

“I think it’s real easy to sit on high telling people they need to think of this, or that when you don’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.”

Connor gave a wry smile, “Then it is a good thing I don’t eat. I will need to read a few more selections before I form a more in depth opinion.”

“Knock yourself out, hipster. I’ll send you all my ebooks I had to get for the classes if you want.”

He perked up, the LED on his temple spiraling.

“My designation code should appear now on your phone for upload.” he said with excitement. His eyes held onto yours patiently, the intensity of it making you flounder, quickly grabbing your phone. Sure enough there was a message that a “RK800” unit was attempting to sync to your device.

[ allow synchronization? y/n? ]

You clicked yes and watched as the phone took on a mind of its own, files opening and flipping at rapid speed until it settled upon your digital library. You set the phone down carefully, eyes flicking between Connor and the device. He had that same far away look Josh got when accessing the web. It took only a few seconds before your phone flashed the words the same time Connor spoke them,

“Upload completed. Thank you, reading these should be very…” he paused, “Fun.”

“And I thought I needed to get out more.” you said, enjoying the bright look of wonder on Connor’s face as his eyes flickered back and forth, clearly already browsing the new selection.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he said, tilting his head, “I should have clarified if you meant to send them now.”

“It’s definitely gonna take some getting use to if you make a habit of connecting to my phone, but nah, it doesn’t bother me.” you said, but Connor still looked skeptical so you continued, “I’m a little jealous to be honest, woulda made reading those bricks easier if I knew you three years ago.”

“It is very efficient. However, no more so than any other academic assistant android you could have purchased then.”

You felt a twist in your chest at the way he said “purchased” so easily when you could tell by the faint grimace on his face that the idea was as disturbing now to him as a “deviant” as it was to you.

“I meant like a classmate,” you quickly added, “Like the way we are now.”

“You study urban planning, not philosophy. Perhaps I should browse those texts as well so we can have more “classmate” simulate conversations.” he said, tilting his head to the other side as if considering the idea further.

“We can always talk about you.” you said, “What do you like?”

His head tilted slightly further, he almost looked like a puppy when he did that, brown eyes soft and always, always curious.

“I enjoy solving cases with Hank-- Lieutenant Anderson. I enjoy calibrating my reflex drive with coin tricks. I like talking with--”

You held up a hand, “Whoa whoa, back up! Coin tricks?!”

Your sudden enthusiasm seemed to take him off guard, but within a moment he produced a quarter from his pocket. He let it slowly walk across his knuckles one way and then faster backwards. You watched, rapt in attention and smiling bright.

“What else?!” you asked and Connor gave a lopsided smile, standing up.

“I need a bit more room for this one. Okay. So-- first you flip.” he said and did so, flipping the coin up once in the air, “And then--”

He flicked it so fast from one hand directly into the other that you almost missed it. Your entire face broke open, “Ooooohh my god! Do that again!”

He was more than happy to oblige, this time flicking the coin back rapidly and then ending by catching it between two fingers.

“Okay you have got to teach that one to me.”

“I’m not sure if you’d be able to get it without a lot of practice, but-- here.” he took your hand in his, carefully directing you to hold your fingers in a scissor shape the way he had. His eyes were intensely focused as he moved you exactly where he needed, carefully stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips.

“Stand a bit more grounded.”

He nudged your shoe with his and you complied, hoping he wasn’t registering the heat rising up in your face. Was he holding on just a bit longer than was really even needed? A bit tighter? You could just barely feel the brush of his shirt at your back, leaning towards it.

“Don’t move.” he said, a soft command. You stood back up straight.

He came around to stand at your side, not even noticing the small gathering of people who were now watching the pair of you.

“Alright. Ready?”

You nodded.

“Just... hold… still.”

He paused, LED whirling for a moment before he flicked the coin and it found itself, trapped perfectly between your index and middle finger. You all but squealed, laughing with unbridled delight.

“That was so freakin’ cool! Can we do it again?”

But before Connor could take the coin from you, a man pushed over to the sitting area and scowled.

“Hey. No fuckin’ tin-can’s. Did you not see the sign lady?”

You were caught off guard, but Connor immediately straightened.

“Sign? There aren’t anymore signs.” you said, remembering that there was no tell tale red sign with a blue triangle issuing that androids were not allowed when you entered.

“There should be. There was. Now we gotta deal with these plastic freaks acting like they own the damn city.”

He looked Connor up and down with measured disgust, eyes lingering on the LED that was quickly flashing yellow.

“You should keep your pet at home.” the man continued, “You don’t see people bringing their dogs where others eat.”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to please return to your table.” Connor’s voice was more mechanical than you had heard it before, measured and even, despite the yellow light flickering.

“I detect levels of ethanol on your breath. A bit early for a nightcap, isn’t it?” Connor continued and the man’s expression switched quickly to shocked and then pissed.

“Keep your fuckin’ eyes off me, freak.” he said, shoving Connor, who did not even move a fraction. “Public intoxication is a misdemeanor under Section 750.168 of the Michigan penal code. I advise you take your coffee home, sir, and sober up .” Connor said, standing up way too far into this guy’s space to be mistaken for anything but an invitation that said, Hit me, do it. I dare you.

You moved forward, quickly slipping your arm between the two men, curling it around Connor’s abdomen. You slid your entire body between them, the asshole guy stepping back.

“Hey, he’s a cop . See?” you pushed aside Connor’s jacket, displaying the DPD badge on his hip.

“You wanna add assaulting an officer to that rap sheet he’s already typing up from his head?”

The guy noted the badge and despite his initial aggression, he took a step back.

“Whatever, bitch.”

You sighed, relieved he was backing off, until Connor lurched forward from behind you. You spun around, pushing your palms flat against his chest. He didn’t resist you, but he didn’t take his eyes off the guy either.

“Apologize to her.” he said, each word punctuated with rigid coldness, LED flashing red.

“Fuck you and your plastic-fuckin’ girlfriend.”

“Hey!” a voice drew all three of your attention up to a barista wearing a different uniform than the others, designating her a manager, “How about you all take a breather somewhere else before I call the real cops?”

“Fine.” you said, pushing back at Connor who had stepped forward again trying to outmaneuver you.

“It’s a nice sunny day and I’m not a fan of the smell of shit and espresso.” you said, giving the guy a glare of your own. You took Connor’s hand, ignoring any comments from anyone else as you headed out the door. Connor didn’t fight you, but walked briskly away from the coffee shop to the point it was now like he was leading you.

His grip was tight, unrelenting. His LED was still a vivid circle of red. Once you were far enough away, you dug your heels in and released his hand. He stopped, but still held on. He snapped his eyes to yours, looking confused and just so-- lost. Like he wasn’t even sure where he was or where he was going.

You didn’t even know where to start.

“… Connor, I am so sorry.”

What else could you say? You were the stupid one who invited him there. His brows furrowed tightly, anger still twitching in his lips as he shook his head.

“Don’t.” he said, voice strained, “Don’t apologize for them .”

His jaw was tight, working and unclenching. He was rubbing your hand in his own, a tick similar to his coin. People walked around you as you both were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, giving Connor nervous glances as they passed. He noticed finally and stepped to the side, filing into an empty alley facing the street.

“I need a minute.” he said, his pulmonary functions attempting to slow. You stepped closer, reaching up to gently touch his back. You stroked up once.

“Of course, just… take all the time you need.”

He was tense, every carbon fiber cord in his body ready to respond, to act. His LED began flickering, slowly turning yellow and holding.

“It’s becoming more common.” he said, disappointment evident in his voice.

“I’d say it was always common, people feeling safe to express their stupidity has just gotten worse.”

“Not that.” he said, sighing, “My… temper. Hank says I have a temper .”

A deviant android with a quick fuse, that wasn’t entirely unheard of, but yet Connor seemed disturbed more so by his own behavior than the other guys.

“I detected a significant jump in your pulse and breathing rate. You were upset. I upset you.” Connor said, going to release your hand. You snapped it back up before he could, squeezing tight.

“Connor. Look at me.”

He did.

“I wasn’t upset because of you, I was upset for you.” you said, searching his eyes, making sure you confirmed his understanding before you continued, “That guy was being a grade A dickhead and I… I made you show me those tricks and it just drew all that attention to you. It’s dumb and it’s unfair , but I should have known better.”

“I wanted to show you.” Connor said, insistent, “I knew it would make you smile. I… like that. When you were asking what I like. I like receiving positive feedback from you. It’s very informative.”

That got a laugh from you, quiet and resigned.

“Like that. I don’t know how I got you to do that, but I’m attempting to work it out. So far the data has been inconsistent.”

“Really?” you said, “How so?”

“You laugh even when I am actually not trying to be humorous.” Connor said, as if you were a bit silly for not knowing.

“You’re a funny guy.”

“Hank would say otherwise.”

Connor’s LED had returned to blue, holding steady.

“Your temperature is dropping. You should be getting home so you can warm up.”

“No.” you said, grinning. This time when he furrowed his brow it was not as sharp.

“Your current core temperature is not a debatable subject, ---. You are at 97.9 degrees.”

You hummed, “So question. When you do that, are you scanning my entire body or just the surface temperature?”

Connor opened his mouth, thought better, and then it closed it. You swore if he could blush he would be. You inclined your head expectantly.

“What else does the scan pick up?” you asked, both curious and enjoying the look of semi-panic rushing over Connor’s features. The blue LED flickered just for a moment.

“I know that you have not eaten in the last four hours and will begin to feel hunger pains in approximately the next twenty to thirty minutes.” he stated matter-of-factly, “You have a healed fracture on your left ankle, most likely from rolling it sometime within the last two years. Also, your pupils dilate when you look at me, indicating that you find me aesthetically pleasing.”

“Ho-kay.” you said, interrupting him and snatching your hand back, “You had me at the beginning there, I’ll admit.”

“Did I successfully embarrass you, ---?” Connor said, putting his hands into his pockets and following after you with a renewed smugness.

“Um. That’s such cheating. I can’t control my pupils!”

“Of course. I understand it is not conscious. Besides. I was designed to be pleasing .”

“Yeah? Then I’m gonna need you to tell me where to file a product complaint.”

Connor laughed and it sounded so human it infected your own smile.

“”Hello, yes Cyberlife?”, you continued, using your hand to mimic a phone, “”Do you take constructive criticism? Because your RK800 model is becoming a royal pain in my ass.””

“I’ve never had a bad review in my life!” he asserted, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

“That’s because you’ve only been alive for seven months! God. You’re an infant. I am literally on a date with an infant.”

Your laughter subsided when you noted Connor was no longer part of the chorus, turning to look at him, you found his own eyes trailed on you with the barest of smiles.

“This has been… different. Good, but different.” he said, choosing the words carefully, “I’d like to do it again.”

“Yeah, yeah, you smug bastard. You probably already know I’m going to say “yes” by the micro expressions of my eyebrows or some crap.”

Your joke was cut short as Connor stepped forward, gingerly reaching up and letting his hand trace the side of your face, thumb rubbing in gentle circles for a moment over the spot right next to your brow. His eyes were hooded, intent.

“No. I don’t think I see anything.”

He was so close-- god damn him for being so close. You couldn’t read his face at all on whether he was being serious right now or was being a tease. The LED light on his temple gave nothing away in it’s blue aura.

“Wait...right there.”

You felt your breath catch.

“I detect the forming of premature wrinkles.”

“Oh, you asshole. ”

You swatted at him, but he was too fast, dodging out of range with a school boy grin.

“I’m freezing and I’m hungry and I think you need to go home and think about what you’ve done.” you said, crossing your arms against the frigid breeze.

“I told you all of those things a minute ago.” Connor said, returning to arms reach long enough to offer his hand in what you assumed was to be a handshake. You scoffed and submitted, letting him take your hand again lightly. He squeezed and let go.

“I’ll text you later.” he said, mirroring your own words. For a moment it almost felt so normal. Just a boy and a girl on a date. It hadn’t turned out to be what you expected, but that was something you were beginning to think you could live with.

“You better.”

When had it become so hard to concentrate? You rapt your stylus against your desk, oblivious to the crowd and the constant hum of conversation as people moved around the facility. You hadn’t heard back anything from Josh regarding the files you brought, in fact, you hadn’t seen an android inside the DCRU office in several days. You leaned back in your chair, hoping to catch a glimpse but instead found yourself looking right into the pencil skirt of London Fog-- aka your supervisor, Miranda.

“You interested in getting out of here?” she asked, curly brown hair tied back in a bun. You think she must been a librarian in a past life based on how she dressed. Nothing else would explain those cat eye glasses.

“Depends.” you said, voice wary. She laughed, because honestly you didn’t have too much choice in it.

“We’re doing a quick run through. We’ve gotten reports that there have been some break ins through the fence perimeter around the--” she stopped, trying to avoid the word “camp” like most people in charge. It was not a good connection to form.

“-- housing facilities. Just need to assess the damage and estimate cost. The androids asked specifically for the director to come, but she is busy elsewhere.” Miranda shrugged, “If I have an intern following me, I look more important!”

Ah, the director. Cinnamon dolce.

Knowing that there was not much more discussion to be had, you picked up your tablet and your coat.

“Where’s the damage?” you asked, voice weary.

“We’ve got a ride to the other side of the facility all lined up for us.” Miranda said, flicking through some documents and sending them to your tablet.

“It’ll be a good learning opportunity!”

Sure. Yay. Fence maintenance.

By the time you arrived it became very obvious that this was not some accidental damage or wear-and-tear, this was a full on someone-took-pliers-to-the-fence-and-cut-a-hole damage. You recognized Josh out of the crowd of humans and androids. He gave you a faint smile and then turned his attention to Miranda.

“Was it a break out?” she asked, earning a narrow look from Josh.

“We’re not prisoners here. Everyone knows they can come and go as they please.” Josh said, voice edged with warning.

“So break in?” Miranda said, confirming to herself. You flipped to the incident report she sent to your tablet and began to jot down notes.

“It would appear so. But nothing was taken. No one has seen anyone strange around the homes either.”

The “homes” for lack of a better word, were simple modular buildings, stacked in sets of three with outside stair railings. A few androids stood on said stairs, peering over the side down at them. The entire facility sat in an old parking lot formerly used by GM back in the late 2000s. It had been sitting vacant for years now and taken by the government for use in the re-homing process.

The modular homes were efficient, if not always “cozy”. The androids were able to file comfort requests, but you’d seen the stacks. It was hard to imagine it was easy to get much of anything, but it was safe . Safer than outside, where humans might attack an android on the street. Here there were soldiers and fences that were meant to keep the outside world out, not them in.

Markus would have not accepted anything less.

“I don’t like that. Have the military units informed to be looking for someone who doesn’t belong and pull any CCTV footage from this area.” Miranda said, stepping forward and examining the fence more closely.

“Tracks say three people!” a voice yelled from above. There was a young looking blond man, standing at the very top of the modular complex. He quickly made his way down, easily constructing a safe path to the ground.

Josh smiled with familiarity, taking the hand offered to him by the man warmly.

“When did you get back into the city?”

“A few days ago. Glad to be back though. D.C. is somehow even colder.”

Miranda turned her attention back towards the two men, greeting the newcomer with nothing more than a faint nod.

“Simon. You said three people?”

Simon nodded, pointing to a variety of spots that now showed traces of mud and slush disturbance.

“Three. They circled in, came this way…”

He moved ahead, heading behind the modular unit. There was a good fifteen feet between it’s back and the fence.

“Then this way. Stopped here, but then one set of tracks keeps going while the other two circle back.” Simon’s eyes narrowed, giving Josh a strange look.

“Something isn’t right. I smell--”

A flash. Blinding and loud. So loud that suddenly your ears were filled with unbearable ringing. You felt your feet lift from the ground, heat bursting across your skin. There were quick flicks of pain, as if a hail storm had pelted you. And then you found the ground again, hitting hard to the concrete as the ringing just kept on. Something heavy fell on your chest, knocking the wind from you.

Your vision blurred, arms shaking as you tried to find something, anything to hold onto to make the world stop spinning. Someone was ontop of you, arms curled around your frame. The smell of thirium and smoke was thick in your nostrils and when your vision came to, there was blue andJosh.

All cradled in a backdrop of red flames.

#dbh connor #dbh fanfiction #dbh fanfic #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor x f!reader #detroit become human #detroit become human fanfiction #detroit become human fanfic #the ostensive fumblings of being human

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matildsdsnook-blog · 4 years

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Don't turn to wrinkle reduction surgery until you try some

The new wrinkle correction creams on the market. Botox and collagen injections re painful, to say the least, but they also cause some negative side effects.

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Sweating is a part of a person's natural body mechanisms and is a way for the body to regulate its internal temperature. There are many ways to control sweating and we discuss only a few methods in this article. The nerves that control sweating depend upon a chemical transmitter called acetylcholine which is a molecule produced at the very ends of the nerve fibers. Individuals troubled by excessive sweating often do not respond adequately to antiperspirants, and they may not respond to (or be willing to tolerate) systemic medications, electrical treatments on the areas of excessive sweating, permanent destruction of the nerves which control sweating, or surgery (in the armpits) to either scrape away the sweat glands or to cut out the areas of excessive sweating.

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Condition

It is a condition that affects both men and women and usually begins during childhood or at puberty, but improves spontaneously for many people in their mid-twenties or early thirties. Profuse sweating that occurs at times other than in hot conditions or after exercise is usually due to a rare disorder called hyperhidrosis, marked by perspiration produced in abundance by overactive sweat glands. In addition, it may be helpful for you to avoid conditions of excess heat, and stay clear of diets that are too high in sugar, caffeine and alcohol, because all of these may also contribute to your problem of sweating.

Control

The reason why some people sweat more is not yet known, but it is known that sweating is controlled by the Sympathetic Nervous System. Get your nerves under control and your sweating will diminish. Most of the times you don't want to stop you're sweating; you want to control it from getting out of hand. Excessive sweating can be controlled to some degree with commercial antiperspirants. It seems that gel deodorants (Mitchum/Soft & Dry) are the only products that will control sweating, the odor for more than one hour (not long enough). While a deodorant masks odors, antiperspirants actually reduce and control the perspiration and sweating. Conventional antiperspirants contain ingredients like aluminum chloride and aluminum chlorohydrate to control sweating by plugging up your sweat glands. Check the label; you'd be surprised at how many people think they're using an antiperspirant/deodorant, a product to help stop you from sweating, but are actually using only a deodorant, a product that only helps prevent odor--not control sweating.

Botox, the popular injectable wrinkle remedy, also can be used to control sweating; injected into the skin, it temporarily paralyzes the sweat glands in the treated area. If drugs are not effective, a more drastic measure to control severe sweating is surgical cutting of the nerves leading to the sweat glands. These nerves respond to different kinds of stress: emotional stress like intimate social situations or public speaking, or physical stress like the increased body temperature that comes with exercise or hot and humid weather. Inspirational books, soothing music, scented candles or bubble baths; anything that helps you to relieve stress is ideal for you to control sweating. Proper hygiene plays an important role in helping you control excessive sweating.

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While only a doctor can prescribe or perform certain hyperhidrosis treatments, there are things you can do to help make excessive sweating less of a burden on your everyday life: bathe daily to keep the amount of bacteria on your skin in check. Stress is known to enhance sweating and it would help you if you take regular distressing treatments. Once you have received your treatments from the dermatologist you can purchase the equipment to give yourself treatments at home from that point on. To me it makes sense to start with the easiest thing and work your way up to the harder, more intensive treatments if you don't get results. Frequent treatments are usually necessary to control sweating. Bring the questions and your answers to your next doctor's appointment, or use them as evidence of the seriousness of your condition if you need to convince your health insurance plan to cover your treatments.

Excessive sweating can be treated by: simple treatments, such as roll-on antiperspirants (e.g. driclor); a type of electrolysis (called iontophoresis); medication, e.g. beta blockers or probanthine; injection of botulinum toxin; surgery (sympathectomy). Simple or medical treatments of excessive sweating might not control the symptoms, or they might induce intolerable side effects. Consult a neurosurgeon if sympathectomy is necessary in severe cases of hyperhidrosis that are refractory to all other treatments. The treatments available are still far from perfect but do give hyperhidrosis sufferers an alternative to just putting up with the condition. Non-surgical treatments include medications, Botox for palm sweating, anti-perspirant, and iontophoresis. A number of different treatments and products are available to help people with severe underarm sweating. If you are suffering from excessive sweating problem, then make sure that you bathe daily and couple this habit with any other method you'll use to control sweating.

Antiperspirants are known to control sweating to an extent and its effect depends on how bad your case of excessive sweating is. A fan or an air conditioner will definitely help you to control sweating. In some patients, these symptoms require therapeutic intervention such as dose reduction, antidepressant substitution, antidepressant discontinuation, or addition of an agent to control sweating. The researchers in this study think that sage may work to control sweating because it has astringent properties. Could an anti-perspirant (such as Drysol) be used on the forehead to control sweating. Destroying the nerves that control sweating in the feet also affects sexual responses, a price that many would think too high to pay. For the feet, aluminum chlorohydrate-containing antiperspirant sprayed onto the skin can help to control sweating. However, there are a number of different things that you can do in order to naturally reduce or control sweating. There are many natural ways and also many counter products that claim and do help to control sweating.

Information

Information and interactions contained in this Web site are for information purposes only and are not intended to be used to diagnose, treat, cure or prevent any disease. Statements made regarding the products, ingredients and general information have not been evaluated by the FDA, or any other health authority, and should not be seen as health claims. Consult your doctor and get some information on what type of counter products will help you to control excessive sweating. There is also plenty of information about different topics that pertain to control your sweating.

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faean · 5 years

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Adamance of a Dragon

Collaborator: @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

Rating: T+; Mild(ish) Language and Mentions of Blood (one)

Word Length: 2,293

Chapter 3- Lessons Learnt ... learned?

“All right, now try to form a proper blade. Let us start small, with a knife or dagger. Begin with your average needle, focus on shifting its size into an appropriate length. Long enough to wield, dense enough to not break, but light enough so you do not deplete your iron levels.” I instructed Aaron, attempting to start his path on to creating more substantial weapons.

Aaron was panting heavily as we did not rest from our physical exercises before moving on to training with our quirks. He focused intensely on the task I gave him, his arms outstretched as the iron from his body pierced through his palms, a sizeable needle between both hands. Widening his stance, he began to pour more iron into the weapon, swaying slightly from the sudden onset of anemia.

I walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. Urging him on, I offered some encouragement and advice. “You know the structure of iron, its density, its rigidity, its composition.” The needle began to shift into the outline of a small combat knife, iron slowly filling it in. “Much like the earth, iron is natural, yet not; it is a balance. Conventionally, you cannot wield a blade without a handle, and there is little point in having a handle without a blade.”

He was struggling towards the end, but Aaron was able to craft his weapon before falling to his knees, clutching the handle of the knife. “Iron, being a product of the earth, is meant to protect. Its power lies not in dealing damage, but in blocking and absorbing it.” I knelt down in front of him, holding his hands in mine, the 8” knife resting across his palms. “Now, try to absorb it. Reclaim the iron that once was yours.”

Tensing his body, Aaron began the process of absorbing the iron. It wasn’t something he had practiced before, but it would be immensely useful for when he takes the entrance exam. With a strained groan, his grip on the handle turning his knuckles white, Aaron began to absorb the iron of his knife. Slowly but surely, it slipped back into his system, a small whimper escaping his lips from straining his quirk so much.

“I know it hurts. That it is difficult, but that is what it means to move forward. To grow as a person. One must struggle before experiencing ease.”

It took nearly a minute, but Aaron was able to fully absorb the knife, evident by the color returning to his face and several ragged breaths as he fell back onto the floor, spread eagle.

“Let us take a break, little flame. Then you can watch me suffer for some time.”

Sitting back up, Aaron gave me a thumbs-up. “Yeah… I brought some dark chocolate.”

Smiling, I brought our packs over to Aaron. “You know me too well, little flame.” I eagerly accept the chocolate before sitting across from him, pulling my lunch out of my pack as he did the same with his.

“So, what did you get up to after I went home?” he inquired, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“Ah, well, Todoroki was kind enough to invite me over for some soba. Admittedly, he was rather aloof until his elder sister arrived, then he seemed to relax. From what I gathered, his father is the Pro Hero Endeavor, and it was not difficult to conclude that he is terrible at his responsibilities of being a parent.” I downed a bottle of sparkling water before taking a deep breath, finishing with, “And you are aware of my views on family.”

Finishing off his sandwich, and taking some iron supplements, Aaron nodded at my statement. “I’m surprised you didn’t wait until he got home so you could fight him. It’s horrible that a parent would leave lasting psychological scars on their child.” Stopping to take a drink from his water bottle, Aaron continued. “I’m going to have to ask mom about that; what do you think?” He stood as he asked me, stretching slightly.

With a small sigh, I said, “Let us leave it be; I do not wish to pry into his private life. Besides, it is time for me to get in some practice.” Standing, I take a few steps away from Aaron and stretch a bit. “Do you think I should practice my stances, or just magic?”

“Yeah, you’re right… Well, you haven’t used your sword styles since we moved. Maybe you should start with that if you’re waiting to undo your seals?”

I nodded in agreement, summoning my first weapon construct in preparation for my training. Getting into my ‘Sky’ stance, I readied my rapier, which was composed of lightning and wind, in my left hand. Taking a deep breath, I began my routine, practicing thrusts and slashes, pirouettes and leaps. I then launched my blade into the air, channeling lightning through it. Six blades now stood embedded into the ground from where the bolts struck. My weapon returned to my hand, the new blades now floating behind me, and I went through my routine again, the floating blades following my movements and adding to my strikes.

Finishing my ‘Sky’ stance, I moved onto my ‘Ground’ stance, wielding a massive Zweihänder in my right hand, my strength allowing me to easily one-hand it. Steadying myself, I began an alternate routine suited for the blade. I had to do this with four more stances for a total of six stances. ‘Heaven. ‘Hell’. ‘Sun’. ‘Ocean’. I went through every stance before collapsing, exhausted from the physical strain and from the cracks emanating from my seals.

“42 minutes. That’s a new record. And more footage for me to use against you.”

I gave a thumbs up, my breathing gradually steadying. I sat up, massaging my wrists and ankles before standing with Aaron’s help. He dusted off my back as I fixed my jacket and dusted off my pants.

“Also, mom wanted me to let you know that you’re invited for dinner. She made spaghetti.”

Out of sheer impulse, I shouted “WhO TOucHa mY SPaghEtT???” which earned me a playful punch from Aaron and a fit of giggles. “Let us head back to rest before dinner. With our exam looming, you need to be fully rested.”

Shouldering his pack, Aaron gave me a pointed look. Speaking with a slight edge in his tone, “I’m not going to let you skip out on sleep this close to the exam. And, no, you cannot make up for it with coffee. Hell, you don’t even feel the effects of it anymore!”

I shrug, a lazy grin on my face. “One, I can still enjoy the taste. Two, at least I do not add blasphemous amounts of sugar like you. Three, I am fairly proud of the amount of caffeine I can tolerate.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s an innuendo in you liking bitter tastes. Also, you drink enough coffee to kill a normal person. Whether you should be proud, I don’t know.”

“Fair points all around.” I followed Aaron back to the station, leaving the empty lot we trained in behind. Despite having arrived a week earlier in Japan, I had yet to finish setting up my training simulator so we may make some proper progress. Honestly, I was stuck doing paperwork for most of the week.

When we finally arrived at the station, it was rather packed, and Aaron offered to stand so I could rest. Thanking him, I took the last seat, sitting next to an ashy blond… Oh, it was the same guy who I saw when I first took the train with Aaron the other day. Well, yesterday, actually. I had entertained the idea of starting a conversation with him, but he seemed a tad surly, and I did not want to aggravate someone in a crowded train.

Unfortunately, as the train neared our stop, Aaron had spotted a man that appeared suspicious. I could not see what he was doing, but it certainly sparked a fire in Aaron for he punched him off the train when the doors opened. He leapt out after him, startling a number of people. With a sigh, I followed him, noting the phone on the ground with photos of… oh.

The pervert quickly dashed for his phone, his fists doubling in size with what appeared to be a coating of metal, striking at Aaron. He clipped his jaw, and my brother spun with it, minimizing the damage and landing against a railing some feet away. Panting, he released a groan of pain, his fists tightening in anticipation. Knowing he could take a hit far stronger and be fine, I stood back, shepherding the civilians away from the fight.

Then, I heard the pervert cry out in pain as Aaron landed a solid hit on his shoulder, launching him back. I saw a few drops of blood on the pervert, Aaron having created several spikes on his knuckles. It was a creative solution, and the man looked defeated; however, the blond boy appeared from the crowd and charged the man, too, his open hands sparking. Aaron was also making his way over, his eyes burning with rage, figure physically trembling.

Fortunately, the authorities arrived in time and the sparking boy stopped. Unfortunately, Aaron was still fuming, and had to be restrained. It was by a skeleton of a man with striking blond hair, resembling that of a lion’s mane with two large bangs framing his scraggly face. He actually resembled Aaron back when he had the… same… hairstyle…

“Young man, please calm down! The situation has been taken care of!” the older man shouted, Aaron continuing to struggle against him.

Venom lacing his voice, Aaron roared “THAT FUCKING PERVERT DESERVES A LOT MORE PAIN! HE NEEDS TO BE PUNISHED HARSHER, DAMMIT!”

Sighing, I walked over and placed a kiss on his forehead, lulling him into a short sleep. It took a moment, but he stopped fighting and I picked him up, a small hum coming from his sleeping form. I thanked the blond skeleton, and flashed my license to the officers, making it quick so they wouldn’t question it being from the States. Or my age. Or its legitimacy.

“I shall take responsibility for these young men, sir. I apologize for the commotion caused.” The officers nodded, thankful for my understanding, they let Aaron and the other boy off with a warning.

The ashy blond just ‘tsked’ and left. With everything calming down, I carried Aaron outside the station, setting him on a bench before waking him. I was tempted to carry him all the way to his home, but with training and having to put him to sleep, I would not have been able to make the trip in my current state.

He awoke and looked down sheepishly when I told him what happened. “Aaron, I understand your anger, but that was not the place for a scuffle. Many innocent people could have been harmed in the pursuit of a single guilty person.”

Leaning back against the bench, he crossed his arms and huffed in frustration, mumbling, “I hate perverts, especially when they abuse their quirk…”

“Little flame, there exists a field of battle for every fight, and this was not it. Although, I do commend you on your quick thinking.”

Aaron refused to look me in the eyes, and I could smell the adrenaline in his system, which aided in him being able to ignore the bruise on the side of his jaw. “There are cameras on the train, the police won’t be able to ignore the evidence provided. Not just that, we saw the pictures on the pervert’s phone…” It was with this realization that Aaron buried his face in his hands, the guilt setting in. “I couldn’t stop myself…”

In his sulking, he did not notice when a group of three (two boys and a girl, about our age) walked over. They were the same people the pervert was stalking, and they thanked Aaron for confronting him. Of course, Aaron just blushed and rubbed the nape of his neck, somewhat embarrassed.

“You don’t have to thank me when I only made things worse. Are you all okay?” The three nodded, almost in unison, to reassure Aaron.

One of the boys, having dog ears, replied. “We know that man won’t be able to bother anyone else anymore, and it’s thanks to you.”

The girl chimed in, saying “Yeah, who knows how many times that asshole did something like this. But you should be more careful, okay? It was a brave thing you did, so let me heal your bruise.”

Aaron tried to back away, likely due to him believing he should suffer the pain for acting so rashly. It did not stop the girl, though, as her hand lit up with a faint aura upon her placing them on his shoulders, his bruise glowing with the same light until it healed. When she stepped back, he rubbed where the bruise had been.

“Thank you. I’ll be better at controlling my anger if something like this happens again.” Aaron said with a smile, a smile that the three returned. Bowing and apologizing for taking up their time, Aaron and I made our leave, after the second boy, who had not said a word, gave Aaron a quick peck on the cheek before he dashed off with his friends.

Any rage Aaron still harbored immediately left him, his face flushing as he simply turned away and started home. I teased him a bit, stating he had gained a few fans. With a pout, he asked me not tell Aria when we arrived, especially about the kiss.

I told her the moment we walked through the door.

Beta Reader, Collaborator, Owner of Aria and Aaron Granchester, and Creator of the Illegitimate Son storyline- @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

PS- Finals are killing me, but I would rather be damned than not use my only two days of break to write.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #original characters #Male oc #my astigmatism is acting up and now im having trouble typing #I cant see anything #bnha toshinori #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #@i-am-here-with-fanfic #help me #bnha todoroki #enjoy you heathens

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hibernianbok · 7 years

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Papa Nordics hcs? Individually, not together!

I’ve been waiting for this

Denmark:

He is child in an adults body. Raising his own children would be a walk in the park! He’s always up for playing pretend or dress up with them and you better believe he will get them a mountain of Lego to play with!

Protect of his child, very. He’s one of those dads that will give his children alot of freedom but as soon as they’re going out with someone he wants to know who they are with and where. No harm shall come to them.

Dad jokes are extremely common, in fact he probably tells his child to call him ‘dadmark’! Every time he makes his child sigh or ugh he laughs and gives them a hair ruffle.

Sometimes it will feel like his child is looking after him, especially when he take them to the toy shop. On many occasions he will be the one buying the toys for his own entertainment.

Pushes his children to their absolute limits and cheering them on every step of the way. If he knows that his child can do something he will bribe them, cheer them and whatever else to help them achieve their goals!

To annoy his child he does many things. His personal favorite being to tickling their hips till they’re crying with laughter and putting them on his shoulders (Still laughing) and running around the house!

He adores it when his child lets him do their hair, no matter the length or texture. If it’s short he gives them a quiff, if it’s long he’ll give them a danish braid! if it’s mid-way he’ll do plaited pigtails!

Sometimes when he’s bored and his child is nearby, he’ll make a game out of trying to put his tiny hat on their head without them noticing. If he achieves it he’ll take a picture and posted it on Snap chat.

Trips to the shops to get ingredients is pretty common, he loves to bake with his child! Only the best danish pastries recipes will be taught and anyone who even smells them will being to drool!

When nobody is around or is coming over he will turn the living room into a giant pillow fort! He loves to see the look on his child’s face as they dive into the fort of pillows and blankets he’s made.

Dad rating: Everything is awesome

Finland:

He is a very caring and fathering man, he is always doing everything he can for his children; the cooking, cleaning, general family bonding, anything to keep them happy!

Strictness wise he is rather flexible. MOST of the time he will brush of misbehavior and give his child a quick scold. Just, don’t make him angry. For the love of everything holy and your safety don’t!

The amount of worrying he does over his children is almost enough to worry about him. He is always on edge when his child is staying at a friends, you better believe he has the friends parents phone number!

You know when your mum/dad/guardian see a friend outside the shop and starts to talk for them for about fifty years? Yeah… he’s that dad. Best bring something to entertain yourself with!

He is very relaxed when it comes to emotional issues, if his children have any problems at all he’ll talk them through it and then give them words of encouragement and enthusiasm!

Also that dad that takes his children to the park and has a flock of mothers surrounding him. All of them are very kind and such, but can he please watch his baby whilst they’re swinging on the monkey bars?

One of the Parent Council dads, he is very involved in his children’s education. Plus he can prove that he’s the best at making cookies! No one can beat Santa’s cookies after all~

Speaking of being Santa, he’s children always get the best presents! But they do have to stay over at uncle Estonia’s house for Christmas eve. Only because he needs to do his job though.

Sauna days with his kids! He loves to just sit back and let the steam engulf him. If the steam is too intense for his child, they can always go for a nice swim in the pool!

He is always giving his children hugs. He will find any excuse to give his kiddo a tight snuggle, good moments and bad! Unless of course they don’t like hugs in which case, hair ruffles are good too!

Dad rating: Baby in a box (If you don’t get that click: here)

Iceland:

At first, he has no idea what on earth he is doing. For those who are friends/family of Iceland will likely receive 3am phone calls with the topic; ‘What do I do when my child cries?’

He is probably that dad that is completely awkward dad that makes jokes at the wrong time, Denmark does that right? Denmark raised him so jokes are a thing that good dads do right? (Send the lad some help please)

Mr.Puffin is the official “HELP ME PARENT PLEASE!” bird, as much as it may annoy the poor puffin it will keep him busy. Family chill time is probably everyone’s favorite time.

Saying all of this, he does try his best. He tries to show his children the wonders of his land and others, as odd as it may seem he knows that the world is very large and he hopes they will see it all!

He enjoys telling them old folktales for bedtime stories! Sometimes he’ll go on for long after his child has fell asleep, so many tales that have been passed on to tell from the people lost in time.

They’re raised to be able to speak more than one language, He can get pretty embarrassed speaking his own language (Source: X (Trivia point!)). He wants his children to be able to wonder the world understand others!

School wise is eeh… He believes that education is the way too success but coming to him with homework or school drama is not the best idea. He either doesn’t know or doesn’t really care.

Discipline wise, he’s got it down to a T, he knows that as soon as the Wifi password is changed and the remotes have been hidden his child is all of a sudden going to be rather nice to him~

To add to the point above, he cannot stand bratty children. From day one he will tell them “You respect me, I respect you” and if they follow that rule then they will be very close!

He can be pretty clingy to his child, he doesn’t like to be surround by people but he’s not a big fan of being all by himself. His child will probably be around him alot to stop him from being too lonely.

Dad rating: How to be a good papa?

Norway:

The chill parent™ literally. He is very tolerant and patient with his children. He will let them do as they please as long as they stay within their boundaries. So long as they do it’s chill™

He will probably put his children on a pedestal like he does Iceland. He’s always going on about how his children are amazing and how cute they look in that outfit he bought them(like Maes from FMA? please tell me if i’m wrong)

To any out lookers, they would say that he’s got a good hand on raising his children. They would be right! Besides the mental screaming and the worrying coffee intake from lack of sleep due to worrying about them, he’s fine!

Dad jokes are a thing, but in a weird way. His child can say anything and he would pause, stare and murmur a really bad pun under his breath. I.e. ‘Whoa, papa! Look at this!’ ‘……I can’t believe it’s not butter...’

He spoils his children more than he is willing to admit, they could see something on TV and he would surprise them with it the next day. He can’t really help it, he doesn’t want them to live like he used to.

Emotional stuff he’s pretty good at! He is able to sit there and listen to any problems his children are facing for hours if he must. He is also willing to hug them and sooth their worries with comforting songs!

Adores telling his children myths and folklore! Sometimes he’ll even take them on drives to the places and introduce them to the creatures that the stories are based around!

Whenever the midnight sun or the Nordic lights are on show he’ll let his children stay up to see them. Joined with the forces of caffeine and warm blankets he’ll sit outside with them all night if they want.

To him, his children are a blessing and something to live for. If he is ever lacking motivation or inspiration he’ll think about his children and BAM! You’ve got one very determined Norwegian.

He takes alot of time off work to spend with his children. He wants to be apart of their lives and for them to always know that he loves them, for him nothing is more important than his family.

Dad rating: Butter hurry up with that homework

Sweden:

This man is a papa and a half! He is already raising two kids (Sealand & Ladonia!) so the man knows what he’s doing. He is always alot more relaxed when with kids and is happy to care for them!

He is very good at keeping his children in line, how exactly? Star charts. He knows that losing a gold star is everyone’s worse nightmare and he will use this to his advantage. Gold stars are given to good kiddos only!

Want a tree house? Because his children are getting a tree mansion! Nearly all of their room’s furniture and toys are made by him, but don’t worry they’re made entirely out of love!

Super protective of his little ones! He would never let any harm come to them whether it be physically, mentally or emotionally. If anyone dares to hurt them he will be knocking on the culprits door at 3am!

Sometimes he’ll take his kids with him for a small fishing trip if the weather is right. Sure camping may be a little boring but it’s the bonding that counts! Plus fishing can be rather relaxing~

He is always willing to participate in games with his little ones, even pretend and sports! If it means that they’re gaining an interest in a possible future career or dream then he will do his best to guide them.

To his children he can seem like a rag doll at certain times, he doesn’t mind them climbing onto his shoulders or letting them borrow his glasses. If it keeps them happy and they’re safe then it’s fine.

Education wise he is the man when his children need help with homework. He will talk them through the problem and give them as much motivation as they need, sometimes in the form of pastries!

All drawings and school achievements will have a special spot on the fridge for all to see. Any of his little ones achievements will be rewarded with a meal out wherever they want!

His absolute favorite thing in the world is to wake up with his little family all fallen asleep on the sofa with him, he thinks it’s so cute seeing them all snuggled up on top of him with a blanket covering them all~

Dad rating: Swedad

#hetalia #hetalia aph #aph #aph hetalia #hetalia scenarios #hetalia imagines #hetalia headcanons #aph scenarios #aph imagines #aph headcanons #aph nordics #Nordic 5 #aph denmark #aph sweden #aph norway #aph iceland #aph finland #papa headcanons

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just-come-baek · 7 years

Text

Love Game 1

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader (Hanbyeol) ft. mentions of Sehun x Irene

Genre: romcom | fluff | enemies to lovers!au | cheating!au | smut (later on)

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: Byun Baekhyun founded a company that aids people cheat on their partners, while Park Hanbyeol runs a firm that helps find evidence of infidelity. However, they both face real difficulties when they help their common friends. Regardless of the effort, they are bound to fail. Miserably, I may add.

Masterlist | 01 | 02 | ...

It was a beautiful evening; the sky in its unique shade of orange, the air unusually clean, the street musicians playing smooth jazz. The scenery was breathtaking, most certainly postcard-worthy, yet the man clothed in a fine, navy blue suit, sitting in a local cafe, a cup of espresso and a piece of cheesecake on the table in front of him did not appreciate the view, as he stared at his phone, waiting for a message from his secretary.

Ultimately, his phone rang. It wasn't the long-awaited call from his secretary, though. Rather confused, Baekhyun looked at the name flashed up on the screen; Oh Sehun—his friend, freshly married at that. Scratching his temple, Baekhyun answered the call, having no clue why Sehun wanted to reach him.

"Baekhyun, I need your help," the voice on the other side of the line quickly spoke, not even bothering to greet his friend; he just went straight to business.

"Hello to you too, Sehun," Baekhyun casually replied, heaving a deep sigh, knowing that Sehun would start his rant as soon as he made sure the other one was listening. "What's the matter?" Baekhyun encouraged, being generous enough to donate his friend a little bit of his time. Even if he managed to get another client, he'd not schedule the meeting earlier than tomorrow's morning.

"Baekhyun, you have to help me," Sehun started, and Baekhyun sat back in his chair, comfortably resting his back, throwing one leg over the other. "I told Irene I'm going on a business seminar, but the thing is, I am not alone," Sehun trailed off, hoping that Baekhyun would get the hint. Actually, he had to; infidelity was the source of his income, after all.

"Okay, it seems you have everything under control," Baekhyun commented, reaching for his coffee, taking a small sip of a hot beverage, the caffeine almost had no effect on him given how much he drinks it daily. "What's the real problem?"

"The problem is..." Sehun made a dramatic pause, almost as if he wasn't already terribly stressed, "Irene's friend's here. I saw her when I went for more ice. My marriage will be over if she sees me, Baekhyun. You have to come here, and help me out man, for the old times' sake!"

"I'm kind of busy at the moment," Baekhyun mentioned nonchalantly, enjoying the way Sehun's voice stuttered and wavered, and just reeked of desperation.

"Baekhyun, please, treat me like one of your clients," Sehun urged, balancing on the verge of begging. His marriage to Irene was too important, he just couldn't lose her for one of his meaningless mistresses. Although he didn't love Irene, his family business benefited from the merger tremendously.

"Okay, let's say that I agree, which Irene's friend? Was it Wendy? Jiwoo?" Baekhyun asked, as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to remember how they looked like. At the wedding, he had seen the bridesmaids, yet given the amount of alcohol he had had, the image was quite blurry.

"Neither, it's Hanbyeol." Sehun stated truthfully, and Baekhyun almost hung up. No matter how much he wanted to aid Sehun, he just wouldn't willingly go to another battle with the she-devil, the antichrist, the Satan in the flesh.

"No, you're on your own, Sehun." Baekhyun announced the second he heard her name. Sinister flashbacks projected into his mind, a shiver ran down his spine, his hands shaking. He had met Hanbyeol once, and it was enough for Baekhyun to run away from any girl who was named the same; regardless of how beautiful the women were, Baekhyun would still pale at the echo of her name.

"I'll pay double," Sehun offered, hoping that Baekhyun would reconsider his abrupt decision. He hated Hanbyeol, and she hated him, but Sehun's proposition was quite tempting—it was a shit ton of money! However, was it really worth it? He'd have to cover up for Sehun, and quite possibly come face to face with the only person he detests with every fiber of his body.

"Tempting, but no, sorry, I am busy, actually, I'm meeting my client right now," Baekhyun lied, his cheek stinging at the reminiscence of the slap he had received from Hanbyeol at the wedding. "I can send one of my employees over to handle the situation, I think Lay should be available tonight," he spoke like a mindless machine, wondering if Lay really had a clear schedule right now.

"I thought you knew me, Baekhyun. I always want what is best, and there's no better than you at this," Sehun started, buttering up Baekhyun, expecting his boastful words to convince the latter. "I'll pay triple, Baekhyun, just come here and help me, will you?"

Sehun had to be joking; the second Baekhyun heard the word 'triple' he clenched his fist and bit on it, a distinctive ka-ching! rang in his ears.

"Ugh, fine. Text me the address, and I'll be there asap." Baekhyun spoke quickly, and ended the call, not even waiting for Sehun's reply. Leaving his untouched cheesecake and a half full cup of coffee on the table, he wiped his mouth with a napkin, and quickly got into his car, the location already in his GPS.

***

"Hi, Irene, what's up?" Hanbyeol answered the call, wiping her hands in the napkin, pushing a plate with fries away from her.

"Have you seen him yet?" Irene asked, impatient to know the details of the mission. Sehun was her husband, and even if they didn't love each other yet, she hoped the feelings would stem anyway. It hadn't been even two months since the wedding, and he treated her with the same exact indifference. She could handle the snail-like pace, yet there was something she couldn't tolerate—infidelity. If she was able to stay faithful to him, he could, too.

"No, I have not," she quickly replied, before she took a huge gulp of lime coke, "that's really strange, though. I'm at that meeting with all these businessmen and Sehun is no where to be found," she started to explain, looking over her shoulder wondering if her friend's husband finally showed up. "At first, I thought he bailed because this place is incredibly boring, since everyone seems to have a stick up their ass, but then I asked the guy who distributes the name tags, and apparently Sehun never showed up."

"Oh," Irene murmured, sounding obviously disappointed.

"It doesn't mean he's cheating," Hanbyeol instantly added, defending the guy. It was strange for her to protect her target, but she really didn't want to upset Irene. There was no proof that he cheated on her, she didn't catch him red-handed, perhaps, Sehun had a valid explanation on why he hadn't showed up yet.

"It doesn't mean he's not," Irene spoke, her voice quiet and cold, disappointment lingering in her tone. She could sense that Sehun hadn't been telling her everything, her suspicion backed with many unanswered texts, ignored calls, and a sweet scent of perfume which definitely didn't belong to Irene. They didn't love each other, but they could, and Irene was willing to try.

"Don't worry, I'll stick around for the weekend, and if anything fishy happens, I'll report it straight back to you," she reassured her, and licked her lips, "according to his payment history, he's here. If there's a woman with him, I'll find her and skin her alive for you."

"Thanks, Byeol. I can always count on you," said Irene, her voice again cheerful. Sehun might be distant to her, but she and Irene, they're fucking tight, although she wasn't always faithful to the only rule their friendship venerated—chicks before dicks, obviously.

"Yeah, anyway, I'll mingle with the other entrepreneurs, and don't forget that we're having brunch on Monday with Jiwoo and Wendy." Hanbyeol reminded her before she hung up, and hid her phone in her purse.

God, she hated these parties. Snob businessmen were gathering, drinking expensive champagne, and discussing their corporations. Normally, she'd not attend, but for Irene's sake, she did, and if it wasn't for free alcohol and appetizers, she'd already go crazy.

"Where are you, Sehun?" Hanbyeol whispered to herself, as she looked around, no familiar face ever flashed before her eyes; only men in their late fifties.

This party sucks.

***

"I'm here, where the hell are you?" Baekhyun yelled into his phone, as he walked into the hotel, his steps leisure, his elbow high. "What room as you in?" He questioned further, as he passed the bellhop, examining the exquisite decor; the place just screamed splendor.

"Room 304," Sehun replied quickly, putting on a bathrobe with his free hand, "I'll meet you outside, I don't really want to trouble her," he added, as he tied the velvet strip around his waist, his phone tightly squeezed between his ear and his shoulder.

"See you in a minute," Baekhyun mechanically spoke, ending the call, his head high, the gaze fixated on the elevator in front of him. Casually, he pressed the button, and the doors immediately opened, his reflection looking back at him in the mirrors in golden frames. The ride was short, yet it was long enough for Baekhyun to fix his tie and comb his hair with his long, slender fingers.

"Thank God," said Sehun, relief written all over his face. "I owe you so much for this," he sighed, the stress slowly leaving his tensed figure, as he knew that Baekhyun wouldn't let him down. Baekhyun was a professional, and it was certain that Sehun's secret was safe; Baekhyun was his warranty that Hanbyeol wouldn't catch him with another woman.

"Of course, you owe me a shit load of money," Baekhyun stated, as he looked at his friend, his stance nonchalant yet authoritative. "I'll be expecting a transfer from you on Monday, better don't be late."

"Yeah, whatever," Sehun answered with a shrug, the triple amount of money that Baekhyun had demanded for his service meant very little to nothing to him, given how rich his family is, "better tell me what's your plan, Baek."

"Since it's an emergency, the procedure is quite different," Baekhyun started, taking a sigh, as he stood on his heels, his fingers entwined behind his back, "send your lady to the hotel spa, you have to go to that business party, so Hanbyeol..." Baekhyun cleared his throat, which was bone dry, as her name barely left his mouth without vomiting, "so Hanbyeol would see you. When you're sure she saw you, I'll approach her and keep her busy, and you're free for tonight," he explained slowly, making sure that Sehun understood every detail of their plan; they only had one chance, and even the tiniest mistake could mean 'divorce' which was definitely the last thing Sehun wanted.

"You're a genius, Baekhyun. Thank you!" Sehun said, knowing that his secret was in good hands—Baekhyun's hands. "I'll get dressed and see you downstairs in a bit?"

"Sure," replied Baekhyun with utter nonchalance before he sent him a lopsided smirk, and turned on his heel, waiting for the lift to take him downstairs. "Good luck, and let's hope she won't suspect anything."

***

Baekhyun was standing in front of the entrance; one pair of doors separating him from the one and only nemesis of his. Moreover, not only he was going to see her, but what was beyond his comprehension, he had to approach her and maintain a conversation with the spawn of the devil itself. Surprisingly how eventful his evening has become; he surely wasn't mentally prepared for this meeting. As a matter of fact, he wasn't certain he'd be ever ready to face her.

With a deep sigh and short pep talk, he pushed the doors opened, his eyes roaming around the crowd seeking her.

"Okay, it shouldn't be that bad," Baekhyun spoke to himself, as he strolled inside, wide forced smile decorating his visage, as he bowed to some random businessmen and adjusted his elegant tie.

Much to his dismay, he spotted her in an instant; she was wearing a navy dress which terribly matched his suit. If he had to be objective, he'd even dare to say that she looked hot, yet given their brief history, he had to refrain himself from turning around and leaving Sehun on his own. Regardless of how pretty she looked, Baekhyun's judgment was clouded by the lousy memory.

The moment the waiter approached Baekhyun, he gladly took a glass of champagne, and gulped it down in one go. He needed it, he just wouldn't approach her without any preparation. Perhaps, she'd be a little bit more bearable if he fueled himself with alcohol. Normally, he was confident and brave, yet right now, he had to drink some more to boost his courage.

"Fancy seeing you here," Baekhyun spoke as he approached her and obtained her attention. She recognized his voice immediately; her figure slowly spinning around, a dreadful expression written all over her face. If Baekhyun hated her with pure passion, the animosity she felt toward him was twice as strong.

"I wish I could say the same," she muttered, as she eyed him from head to toe, not caring if he could hear her.

"Ouch!" Baekhyun pressed his hand against his chest, faking the pain that she caused with her harsh words. "Actually, I can't say I expected a warmer reception," Baekhyun commented, looking away, almost as if one look into her eyes would turn him into stone. "So... what brings you here?"

"It's a CEO gathering, and I am a CEO." Hanbyeol answered vaguely, not sparing him a glance either; his presence was repellent enough to handle. "What about you?" She asked, although she couldn't care any less about his reason; she only wished he'd go away after the small talk.

"Pretty much the same," Baekhyun replied, snatching another glass of champagne. "It's a perfect place to hand out business cards, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," she agreed with a nonchalant shrug, finishing her alcohol.

"Though, it'd be way more pleasurable if Sehun didn't force me to go to that boring seminar in the afternoon. I thought I was going to die out boredom. At least, they provide food and alcohol." Baekhyun spoke casually, as he stared at her profile, examining her reaction when he mentioned Sehun's name. Just as he expected—she turned her head, their eyes locking for a brief moment.

"Sehun's here? I had no idea," Hanbyeol effortlessly lied, trying her best to look surprised, yet calm, so Baekhyun wouldn't figure out that she knew. So Baekhyun wouldn't fathom the reason behind her presence. She was going to bust Sehun with another woman, not get caught spying on him. "Well, it's a small world, isn't it?" She added, looking at Baekhyun, checking him out, approving his clothes and styled hair.

No matter how much she despised him, she couldn't deny that he was quite handsome.

"Yeah, it is," Baekhyun agreed, as he readjusted his tie, and put his hands into the pockets of his expensive suit. "Anyway... would you like to have a drink? I could use some," Baekhyun proposed, as he noticed Sehun in the crowd. Unlike Baekhyun, Sehun wasn't accustomed to this kind of stress, and it could be pretty risky for them if Hanbyeol approached him and started talking. Right now, it was Baekhyun's duty to keep her away from Sehun.

"I don't think so," Hanbyeol casually rejected his offer and turned around to leave him alone, yet if only he didn't grab her shoulder, she would be out of his side. "I said that I didn't want to, Baekhyun." She spoke, abruptly yanking her arm out of his grip.

"Come on, it's one drink, I'm not asking you to have sex with me," Baekhyun explained, trying to signalize that he didn't have wrong intentions. If she really thought that he was flirting with her, she was terribly mistaken, probably as wrong as it was possible. "For the old times' sake?" He smiled at her, almost as if he tried to seduce her.

"For the old times' sake all you can get is a kick in the nuts," Hanbyeol retorted, smirking when she saw Baekhyun's pain expression, as he was perfectly aware that she was capable of fulfilling her threat.

"Pass," Baekhyun replied with a sheepish smile upon his face, and took a step back, his hands immediately hovering above his crotch.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," she spoke, and turned around to leave. Baekhyun couldn't let that happen, especially when she was about to head toward Sehun.

"Are you still dwelling on the past?" Baekhyun asked, following behind her. "Whatever happened, happened; let's just forget about it." He proposed, but Hanbyeol only scoffed, as she continued to walk away from him.

Baekhyun couldn't be serious. Why did he urge her so desperately to talk to him? She was perfectly aware how little she meant to him, if anything, Baekhyun was supposed to avoid her like the plague. It was the only logical development of their relationship; they ought to restrain their contact to the very minimum. The most adequate behavior should be leaving one room when the presence of the other party spotted, and what Baekhyun tried to propose was the exact opposite.

What was his hidden agenda?

"I already did," Hanbyeol stated casually, not even sparing him a glance, "though, I still don't want to hang out with you."

"It's just one drink, relax." Baekhyun carried on, as they approached the bar, and raised his hand to obtain the bartender's attention. "My treat."

"Drinks are free," Hanbyeol said matter-of-factly, as she sat down on the stool, and Baekhyun immediately occupied the seat beside her. "Okay, cut the chase. What do you want from me?" She asked, being fed up with Baekhyun's insistent attitude. She didn't want to be anywhere near around him, and he must've felt the same; why did he bother?

"I don't know anyone here—"

"You know Sehun," Hanbyeol interjected, trying to prove him that he had better options than pestering her.

"Yeah, but I spent the whole day with him, I want to throw up when his face flashes in front of my eyes. He's my friend, but there are limits." Baekhyun explained with a cheeky smile, hoping that she understood him. Sighing, Hanbyeol looked at him, as he ordered drinks for them. He was irritating, but she realised that he wasn't going anywhere; if she could get rid of him, he'd already be out of her sight.

"Okay, whatever," she spoke, as she sipped on her sweet drink, her eyes seeking Sehun in the crowd. In her opinion, he didn't act like a person in the affair; he was somewhat relaxed, making casual conversations with businessmen in their fifties, not even sparing a single glance at the beautiful women who accompanied them.

"Hi, there," said a man who just approached the bar, one hand laid on the counter, the one one gently pressed against the small of her back, "can I get you a drink?" He asked, giving Hanbyeol a wide smile.

"She already has one," Baekhyun interjected, immediately jumping off his stool, "and she's with me," he added, as she swiped the man's hand away. "You're welcome, I protected you. He won't bother you anymore."

"You're the one bothering me, Baekhyun." She retorted, shaking her head in disbelief, as she sighed and bit her straw. "Besides, he was kind of cute, if anything, you just cockblocked me."

"I'm trying here," Baekhyun defended himself, returning to his seat. "It'd be much easier if you told me why you hate me so much."

"You really don't know?" Hanbyeol asked, looking him in the eyes, trying to determine whether he was seriously this shameless or simply ignorant. "Okay, fine. Let me enlighten you," she started, and Baekhyun gingerly nodded his head, waiting for the explanation. As far as he remembered, it had to have something to do with Sehun's and Irene's wedding.

"Please, do. I really want to know."

"At the wedding, we flirted with each other and it was really nice," she started, and Baekhyun responded with a gentle bow, taking in the information, "but later, I saw you making out with someone, and I was seriously pissed when after the toast you came back to me as if you just didn't shove your tongue down other woman's throat. All the attraction disappeared like a snap of fingers."

"Really, that's it?" Baekhyun asked with his eyebrow raised upwards. "Aren't you a bit melodramatic? It's not like we were in a relationship."

"It doesn't matter, Baekhyun." Hanbyeol answered calmly, a polite smile upon her face. "Don't get me wrong, but I know a little something about players, and I can tell when I see one."

"Well... I know a little something about relationships," Baekhyun started, making Hanbyeol interested in whatever he had to say, "why even bother to be with someone when eventually it's going to fall apart?"

"Relationships don't fall apart without a reason; people just stop trying. It's not going to last if you don't care to maintain it," Hanbyeol fought back, even if she didn't want to discuss that matter with him.

"Yeah, I agree, and that's why I don't do relationships."

"Good for you."

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